The Fall (17 page)

“I’ll try,” she whispered, looking up at me, shattered. “What else can I do? But, you have to go. It’s all you have ever wanted. I can’t be the reason for taking it away. I won’t.” She pulled away from me, slapping the moisture from her face in an attempt to be strong.

“I could stay. I’ll stay. I’ll be the reason, Dally. I’ll pick another fucking school. I’ll give it up.” She looked up at me with the most solemn face I’d ever seen on her. “I can’t live with that,” she said quietly.

I saw the possible scenarios running through her mind. She was failing miserably at hiding her unhappiness, her strength faltering as she looked up at me. “You say you’ll come back for me, Dean, then be here the day I graduate. Come back to me then, and I’ll marry you.”

For the first time since the conversation started, I felt a glimmer of hope. “Promise?”

“You have to keep yours first,” she said, her eyes tearful, her words sincere. “Go, Dean. Go be a doctor. I’m right behind you.”

I captured her mouth with mine then pulled away, tracing the outline of the necklace with my fingers while I looked down at her. “I’ll come back for you, Dally.”

"You cursed me, you said I would never love anyone else". – Laura (Room 212)

Dallas

• Now
  

I buried my head in my pillow the minute I got home, and by the time I woke up the following morning, I had missed two texts from Dean. I had barely made it out of bed before there was a knock on my door. I looked at the clock, noting it was six in the morning.

I stumbled blindly to the door and opened it quickly.

“You said nothing about 6:00 A.M.,” I grumbled, taking in Dean’s polished appearance. He was beautifully flawless in dark jeans and a loosely fitted black t-shirt.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s early. I’ll make coffee.” I pointed to the kitchen as I walked toward my bedroom. I undressed then jumped into the shower. I felt a million times better as I pulled a brush through my hair. A few brushes of makeup and lip gloss later, and I walked out of my bedroom, drifting toward the smell of coffee.

“Thank you,” I said as Dean handed me a cup then walked around my living room. I watched him take everything in and stop at some of the pictures on my mantle.

“I like your condo. It’s kind of how I pictured it would be, much like your old house,” he said, turning to smile at me.

“Well, my mother decorated most of it, so that’s a keen observation,” I said, giving him a half-smile. My curiosity was piqued as he quietly looked around.

“Dean, where are we going?”

“Home,” he said quickly, grabbing my cup and his and walking them to the sink.

“Home,” I parroted back as I grabbed my purse and locked my door.

He stayed quiet for a few minutes during the drive. I knew if I waited patiently, he would come out with it. Dean always got quiet when things became serious. I learned that about him over the years. I was just about to ruin my patient streak when he spoke up.

“My mother has Alzheimer’s,” he said quietly. “Her symptoms are advancing.” I sat, shocked at his admission. Of all the things he could have told me, I was not expecting that. I sat quiet while he continued. “It’s getting worse, and I’ve hired around the clock care. Today, there was an emergency with her nurse, and I have to cover for her. I couldn’t find anyone I trusted.”

“Dean, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine. Your father must be—”

“He died two years ago,” Dean said, taking his first look at me since we got into the car. I shook my head back and forth in a no, “Oh, God, Dean, I’m so sorry. How?”

“He was getting older, things started to happen, and then he was gone.”

“Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry,” I said, grabbing his hand. He squeezed mine, keeping his eyes on the road then pulled away.

“It’s life,” he said, dismissing what I was sure was a horrible memory of losing his father.

“I wish you would have called me,” I said, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice for both his withdrawal from my touch and the sting of being absent when his father passed. Dean idolized his father, Jeffrey, and though Dean had been born when Jeffrey was in his late forties, you would never know it to look at him. I remembered the way they had joked and carried on like they were the best of friends when we were teenagers. I couldn’t stop thinking about his mother and how beautiful and passionate she had been. She would constantly lecture Dean and I about the importance of living life. I would have a hard time keeping up with her broken English, but I never forgot the first time I met her.

“Ella tiene estrellas en sus ojos,” she murmured as she held my arms out to the side. “Dini, she’s a good one. Ju need to be a good boy.” She smacked him on the back of the head and then hugged me fiercely. I laughed nervously as she dragged me through her colorfully decorated living room into her kitchen.

“Ju sit right there. I’m going to teach you how to make Dini’s favorite food,” she cooed as she took out a huge bag of cornmeal.

“Mama, she didn’t come over for a cooking lesson,” Dean interjected, only to get a scowl from her.

“Calla hijo, deja le enseño como cocinar como a ti te gusta,” she snapped. “Ju don mine, right, honey?” I shook my head no as Dean sighed heavily and we spent the afternoon into the evening making homemade Tapas with sautéed shrimp.

“Dis so good. Ju like it?” She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but to giggle at her overly animated way of speaking. She was so passionate when she spoke about anything and everything. I was fascinated.

She let Dean and I have a glass of wine as she danced around her kitchen, laughing and poking at her son. It was unmistakable the way she loved him, and I found myself falling a little harder for him as he entertained his mother with a dance.

“Ojos estrellados,” she murmured to Dean. “And you?” She paused, seeming to ask her son a question.

“Si, Mama,” he said back, his olive skin turning a shade darker. I cursed myself for taking French at that moment. I had no clue what was going on.

“Ella es muy joven, eso no va ha durar,” she said, giving me a sweet look.

I was completely clueless as Dean turned to me with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Si, Mama.”

“Ojos estrellados,” I muttered under my breath. Dean’s eyes shot to mine as I said it. “What does it mean?”

“You never looked it up?” he said, watching me carefully as he clicked his signal.

“Would you believe I just remembered it?” I said, pressing him with my stare. “What does it mean?”

“Ask my mother.” His lips curled, revealing a small smile as he exited the highway.

“I will,” I said, softly tapping my fingers on the window.

“Dallas, I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing my attention with the weight of his voice. “I’ve acted like an ass. I had no right to do the things I’ve done.”

I turned in my seat to look at him, but he gave me nothing more.

“What the hell is going on with you, Dean? Why are you no longer engaged and sticking your tongue down my throat?” He pulled to a stop in his mother’s drive and I noticed it was the same dark blue two-story home I remembered from years ago, but was not as well kept. Dean exhaled roughly, seemingly lost in his thoughts, before turning to question me.

“Are you happy?”

“Whoa, that’s a little deep for seven in the morning.” He pulled my hand from my lap, gently grazing his finger over the top of the sensitive skin. Instantly aware of our connection, I cleared my throat and pulled my hand away.

“Answer the question,” he prompted, his paralyzing blue eyes on me. I tried to hide the heat in my face. I was undeniably attracted to him, but right now was not the time to let it come creeping in.

“Happy?” I hesitated. “I guess so.”

“I have this theory you aren’t. It’s not that hard to see. Besides, if you were, it wouldn’t have taken you so long to answer.”

“Well, you don’t—”

“I don’t know you anymore, right?” he interrupted in a mocking tone as he got out of the car.

“You’re an ass, you know that? You apologize and then insult me by telling me I’m not living the life I should be,” I huffed out, picking my purse off the floor and slamming his passenger side door.

“You said it, not me.” He opened the gate and held it open for me. My comeback was cut short when I got a good look at the house as we approached it. The landscape was suffering horribly and the house looked like it was hanging by a thread. I knew this because in the earlier years Dean’s mother had taken great care of her yard and home, much like my mother.

“I’ve been meaning to get a crew out here. I just haven’t had the time,” he said as I looked around us. “I come out here every chance I get, but it’s never enough.”

“It’s such a shame. It was so beautiful.” Dean plucked the right key off his chain and put it in the door.

“Yes, it was,” he murmured sweetly, his eyes on me. His face was so close to mine. All I had to do was lean in to taste his lips. The memory of his kiss from the break room damn near brought me to my knees.

“Dean,” I begged.

“I’ll leave it alone, Dallas,” he said reluctantly, pushing the door open.

“Mama,” he called as he walked across the entryway to the living room. I walked in, hesitant. I hadn’t spent a large amount of time studying Alzheimer’s and was unsure of exactly how I could help him today, but this wasn’t about me and my comfort. Dean had needed me and specifically asked for my help. It moved me that he still trusted me this much.

“How is she today?” he asked the nurse that was sitting in a recliner to the right of his mother who was in a similar chair of her own. I almost gasped when I saw her appearance. She was no longer the younger, beautiful, vibrant mother I’d met. Her hair was solid white and the sparkle in her eye was now dull. Her stare was distant and intent on the TV screen in front of her.

It had only been seven years!

“She had a rough morning,” the nurse replied, getting up to greet Dean. “Thanks so much for this. Sorry, Dean.”

“No problem, Rita. You have a life, too. If you need me to hire more help, I would—” She cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t you even think about it.” She gripped his shoulders then turned her head to me. “Who is this?” She smiled and held out her hand.

“Rita, this is Dallas, an old friend of mine.”

“Uh huh.” She raised an eyebrow as she looked me up and down. “Well, Dallas, nice to meet you,” she said with a smile. Rita was younger than his mother by what looked like only a few years. She was much shorter than Dean, which made their conversation seem comical. She started going into specifics about his mother’s routine when Dean’s mother spoke up.

“MOVE!” she grunted out as she swatted at both of them in front of her. Apparently, they were interrupting a very important part of her Spanish soap opera. I giggled as they hurried out of her way and saw the glass on her TV tray was empty. I grabbed it quickly, making my way to the kitchen and refilled it with water. Placing it on her tray filled with her medication, I looked around the house. Other than a few pieces of new furniture, it was very much like the home I had visited as a teenager. Dean ushered his mother’s nurse outside as she assured him she would be back as soon as possible. I sat next to Dayana and remained silent while she yelled at the TV.

“Bruja malvada, ese hombre no es tuyo!” She gripped the side of her chair as the credits rolled.

“Mama, you are being rude,” Dean scolded, leaning in to hug her.

She looked up at him and smiled as if seeing him for the first time. “Dini,” her smile deepened as she hugged her son with her whole heart. I felt the corners of my eyes going heavy with tears and looked upward to keep them away.

So much for not being a crier.

“Dini, who is here?” she questioned, getting a good look at me. “Aha!” she blurted suddenly, standing up quickly, with so much vehemence that I took a step back, my eyes wide.

“Ju are de woman who took my Dini?” She raised her brows at me in contempt as I stood there helpless.

“No, Mama,” Dean corrected.

She charged me, coming to stand right in front of me. “Ju have no respect for family? Ju not let him see his father!” she ranted as I stood there terrified.

This was not going well.

“No, Mama, wrong woman!” Dean promised, exasperated.

“Papa!” she called as I stood stunned. “Papa!”

Dean’s eyes found mine as he mouthed. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head quickly to try to comfort him.

“It’s me, Dayana!” I grabbed her into a big hug and held it as long as I could until she fought me and then pulled back. “No it’s me, ojos estrellados!”

“Ojos estrellados?” she said quietly, sizing me up. “Hmpf, I dunno...Dallas!” I nodded quickly and she embraced me with tears in her eyes. “My Dini no be the same boy since you be gone!”

“Mama,” Dean said sharply.

She turned away from him clearly ignoring his plea and studied me. “Ju still have stars in your eyes for my boy?”

“That’s what it means?!”I was sure the horrified look I gave her made no difference as she gave me an expectant glance. My eyes wandered over to Dean, and I saw he was just as uncomfortable as I was. Suddenly saddened, I recognized the strangeness of the situation. This had once been a second home to me and this woman and I were once close. We all stood guarded now. This is not how we all worked. My heart took a dive at the loss of the dynamic we once shared, before life got in the way. We were all younger, more carefree, more honest. While I couldn’t do a damn thing about the first two, I could, for the first time since this man showed up to my hospital, tell the truth.

“Always,” I said, keeping Dean’s gaze until I had no choice but to address her.

“So good you are here!” she said, clapping her hands together. “Dini, get Papa!” she ordered quickly.

“Mama, Papa is at work and Dallas is going to stay with you for a few hours while I work on the house, okay?” He seemed to be asking us both the question as I nodded a yes and she slowly did the same.

Dean addressed me next as his mother made herself comfortable back in her chair. “I have to do some stuff around here. I’ve really dropped the ball. It won’t take too long, okay?”

I nodded again as he made his way up the stairs.