The Falling of Love (21 page)

She tries to keep her mind off Ian, but it is hard not to think of him. In fact, she thinks of him several times a day. The song that plays on the radio about heartbreak, the shirt of his that she found in her laundry basket, the shampoo that still sat on the edge of the bathtub downstairs. Everywhere she turns, she finds Ian.

The first place she thought to check was with Brandon and Bailey. She attempted to contact them by telephone, but a message said the number she called was out of service. After being unsuccessful in reaching them by phone, she mailed a letter, which was returned to sender with no forwarding address. She searched for them on the internet, but found nothing to go on. They apparently never set up email addresses and she found no social media sites for them, which was her last hope. Grace concluded that Ian’s aunt probably moved again to protect Brandon and Bailey from their father.

Grace spends many nights lying in her bed envisioning that Ian is dead somewhere in a ditch or an alley in Hollywood. The thought of him being hurt or dead terrifies her. Although she knows in her heart that anything her and Ian ever had is over, she is still concerned for him.

It has taken a lot of strength and tears for her to pick up the pieces of her life and get to where she is now. At the very least, she is proud that she has done that.

James offered her a chance to go back to college, but Grace believes that working will keep her mind more occupied, and off Ian and all that her life with him could have been. Just living under James’ roof again is enough, and she hates to ask him for anything more. Therefore, every day she puts on her blue server’s uniform and heads out to work.

Since she lost Ian, she has lost her motivation to work on her art. She has tried to pick up a pencil and draw, but Ian’s face plagues her mind and she cannot move forward with any new work. It has taken time, about three months of time and the unconditional love of her family to help put the pieces of her life back together.

She never thought it would happen, but she can now smile and laugh again. Her heart yearns for what was and what could have been, but Grace has decided that she can no longer live in the past. The future is all she can live for.

The Hathaways are all seated at their kitchen table on a sunny but cold morning. Grace is cooking breakfast for her family when the house telephone rings.

“Hello?”

“Grace? It’s Jaden.”

She finds herself speechless. “Ah, hi,” she says, warily, after a long pause. “How did you get my number?”

“I have my ways.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I, I’m fine Jaden,” she says, her tone serious. “I’m more than that. I’m great!” she exaggerates.

“Good. That’s cool. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Jaden, I’m cooking breakfast, so I really need to go,” she says, suddenly.

Grace turns and sees James and Michelle watching to her and listening to her conversation. She turns her back to them and faces the wall, lowering her voice.

“Okay, well it’s good to know that you’re doing
good
,” Jaden says, full of hesitation.

“Yep!”

“Okay well, maybe I can call you later?”

The tone of his voice makes her question why she is being so abrupt with him. Grace thinks about it for a moment. She was so fond of Jaden, and he never did anything to hurt her. They just made a horrible mistake by sleeping together.

“Sure,” she says, in a kinder voice.

“Cool! I will call you later. Talk to you soon!”

Before he can hang up Grace suddenly asks, “Have you heard from him?”

Jaden pauses for a moment before answering. “No. I’m sorry. No one has.”

She hears the sorrow in his voice and relates to it.

“Okay, I was just curious,” she says, quickly attempting to cover up her sadness. “Take care, Jaden, talk to you soon.”

Grace hangs up the telephone and holds onto the receiver for a moment before she turns around to find James and Michelle still staring at her.

“What?” she
asks,
then clenches her jaw.

James and Michelle start to fidget with their silverware and do not say a word.

Jaden’s call sparks a whole mess of emotions Grace has been trying to suppress for months. She lies in her bed and tears silently fall. She does not know why, but something possesses her to go out to the garage. She has not been out to the garage since the first week she got home. It holds too many memories of Ian. Memories she tries to block out. As she walks outside snow drifts onto her eyelashes causing her to blink rapidly. Standing in the falling snow, she remembers the Christmas morning when her and her family presented Ian with the gift of his studio and piano and a smile forms on her cold face.

Those were such glorious times, cherished times that have melted away like the snow that falls and melts on her cheeks. She opens the garage door and it creaks loudly, disturbing the silence of winter. The moonlight that shines through the garage windows is glowing off the barely touched, shiny, baby grand piano. Grace pulls the bench out and sits. She lifts the key cover and delicately slides her fingers against the black and white keys. Her heart aches for Ian.
Where is he?

Hard, cold concrete cuts through Ian’s jeans. The deafening sound of a big rig truck and other vehicles rumble in his clouded head.
Where the fuck
am
I?
He pushes his body to a sitting position. He studies his surroundings while rubbing the back of his head. It hurts, in fact, his entire body throbs with pain. He attempts to stand up, but his head is too fuzzy and his arms collapse on him. Vomit rises in his throat.

A truck zooms by and the beaming headlights cause him to cover his eyes with his arm. He tries with no success to remember the events that led to him sleeping under a freeway overpass. He is freezing, his clothes are tattered, and his shoes are soaked. When he is finally able to bring himself off the ground, he searches through his pockets. They are empty. His cell phone is gone, along with his wallet. He has nothing but the clothes on his back. This is not the first time he has woken up in a strange place and could not remember why he is there or how he got there. Ian sniffs the air and the smell of vomit and urine are overpowering. His hands rush to his crotch area and the wetness between his legs disgusts him.

Looking around he spots a giant pile of vomit, right where he was just lying. This is all it takes for him to begin puking again.

He walks until he finds a gas station. After obtaining the key from the cashier, he uses the disgusting bathroom to try to clean up. Looking around the defiled restroom, he realizes he does not even know if he is still in Los Angeles. He recalls that on his walk to find this gas station, he was not walking through a city, he was walking through the desert.

“Where the fuck
am
I?” he asks himself, as he takes a rest on the toilet. His life has no meaning after losing Grace. Stalking Jaden’s driveway for two weeks and never seeing her, alerted him to the fact that she was no longer living there. He spends time reflecting on what his life has become and decides that it no longer holds meaning. He needs Grace in his life, and he is nothing without her.

Ian looks himself over in the hazy restroom mirror and realizes he has lost a considerable amount of weight. He runs his fingers over his clammy skin and defined cheekbones, the skin seeming like a frail barrier between his bones and his fingertips.

He runs his finger under his sunken in eyes, “I look like hell.” He finishes drying his jeans in the hand dryer and pulls them on. They are stiff from being washed in the sink and are uncomfortable against his skin. He combs his fingers through his greasy hair, but it is no use. He looks as horrible as he feels.

The gas station attendant looks at him when he reenters the store. “
Feelin
’ better, dude?”

“Yeah, thank you,” he says, lying. He has never felt worse in his entire life.

“Well, happy Christmas Eve, dude.”

Ian had not realized it was Christmas Eve, let alone December. He hands the gas station clerk the key to the restroom and his eyes fall on a postcard that reads
Welcome to Las Vegas.

Michelle’s voice echoes through the Hathaway home. “Wake up, wake up,
it's
Christmas morning!” she yells, as she thuds down the stairs.

As tradition goes, James has cinnamon and sugar spice candles lit, filling the home with the most delicious aroma. Christmas music joyfully plays in the living room. Michelle stands in front of the tree with only the gifts from her to her siblings and Grace to her siblings under it. Her head is cocked to the side in confusion as James casually enters the living room. Grace takes a seat on the couch, puzzled as well. The girls are used to a living room full of gifts on Christmas day. They look forward to it all year long. Grace wonders quickly if James is still angry with them and then shakes that idea from her head. They have all made amends, so that cannot be the reason why there are no gifts from him. Michelle looks at Grace and points to the lack of gifts under the tree, then looks at James, returning her hands to her hips.

“Okay, joke's up, where’s the gifts?”

James sits in his easy chair slowly sipping on his coffee. “No joke,” he says, expressionless.

Even Grace cannot believe her ears.

“No gifts! On Christmas!” Michelle shrieks.

“I didn’t say
no
gifts, I just said no joke,” James says, with a deep laugh. He scoots to the edge of his easy chair and points to the stockings hanging from the fireplace mantel. “Your gifts are in there.”

Michelle looks at Grace and Grace at Michelle, and they leap for their stockings. Inside the stockings they find the usual chocolates, candy canes, and girly items and then they each pull out large rectangular envelopes with their names written on them. The girls look at James with sheer confusion written all over their faces.

“Well, open them and I’ll explain,” James says, with a laugh.

“Paris!” Michelle shouts. “Are you freaking kidding me right now? Paris!”

Grace is stunned,
mouth open
from sheer astonishment. “James,” she says, quietly.

“Shh,” he says, with his finger over his lips as Michelle leaps into his lap and pummels him with hugs and kisses.

“It’s a one way ticket,” Grace says, in shock.

James crawls to the floor and Michelle joins him as they sit next to Grace under the Christmas tree. “I know you girls have always dreamed of living in Paris. I did some research on fantastic art schools. Guess where one is located?” he asks, beaming, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

Grace just keeps shaking her head in shock, mouth still open, but wordless.

“So I figured that instead of piling a bunch of meaningless gifts on you girls, this year I would get you tickets, tuition, and an apartment close to the school in Paris.”

“It’s too much,” Grace says, with a heavy sigh. “It’s just too much!”

James puts his arms around the girls and pulls them to him. “Life has been hard on both of you for too long. It’s time you both got to live your dreams. Michelle, you can study photography once you graduate high school and maybe even try modeling. Grace, your credits from UCLA can be transferred, and you can finish your degree and maybe even do some modeling as well. It could help you pay your other expenses while I front the bill for your apartment.” He smiles.

Grace is speechless. Unbelievable as it may be, Michelle is speechless also.

“We have a million dollars in a savings account,” James says, confidently. Both of the girls’ mouths fall open at James’ words. “It’s from the life insurance policy that Mom and Dad left for us,” he says, sadly. “I’ve been saving it for when you two were old enough to go to college.”

Grace is overwhelmed at the thoughtfulness and love that he has for her and Michelle. To save that money for all these years just for them, to work long days as a trucker to provide meals, clothes, and whatever they asked him for, when all the while he had one million dollars he could have used. Tears, which are a more familiar thing to her lately, pour out of her eyes. Michelle is hysterically crying and apologizing to James for stealing the money from him.

“Girls, you’re my life. I love you both so much, and I’m extremely proud of both of you. I think I did a great job raising you and that you will flourish in Paris. I know I just got you back home, but it would be selfish of me to keep you here and keep you from doing what you want to do with your lives. I know you both want this. It’s all you ever talk about. I have confidence in you two. So please, accept my gift graciously.” James pulls the girls tighter into a bear hug, and as a family, they cry.

Ian climbs the steps of Jaden’s house with his stomach twisting into knots.
What if he hates me? What if he tells me to leave? What if Grace is here?
Shoving
his what
ifs to the back of his mind he knocks on the front door. Impatiently he taps his foot on the porch and waits. It takes sometime before he can hear footsteps inside, coming his way.

Jaden opens the door and stands there looking shocked for a moment. “Ian?” he asks, sounding as though he does not believe his own words.

“Hey, man.”

“Where the
hell
have you been?” Jaden asks, after he throws his arms around him.

“You name it, I’ve probably been there,” Ian jokes.

“Come on in. Dude, I thought you were dead. What the hell happened to you?”

“That’s a long story that I really don’t feel like telling right now.”

Once they’re inside the house and Jaden has closed the door behind them, he stands staring at Ian with disbelief covering his expression. “Ian, I…I thought.”

Ian cannot escape the feelings of awkwardness.

“I’m sorry. I just had to stay away for a while and get my shit together.”

Jaden throws his arms around Ian again. This time Ian swears he has tears in his eyes.

“You’re my brother, man,” Jaden says. “You can’t do that shit to a person. I know I fucked up, but—”

“I don’t want to talk about all that.”

“I’m sorry, Ian. It just happened. I fell for her, man. I couldn’t resist her and it just happened.”

Ian walks to the living room and takes a seat on the couch. “Really, you don’t have to apologize. I get it. She’s…Grace is…she’s amazing. How can I blame you for falling for her?”

Jaden stands above Ian, fidgeting.

“I’m not going to kick your ass, if that’s what you’re so nervous about.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Do you want a beer?”

“How’d you get beer?”

“Micah’s twenty-one, remember? He buys it for me all the time.”

“Sure, I guess we could probably use it to ease some of this tension.” Even though he knew the answer to his question, Ian had to ask. “She moved out, didn’t she?

Jaden appears to be processing Ian’s question and stands there mute. Ian holds his breath the entire time waiting for Jaden to answer.

“Yeah, she did. A couple months ago. Let me go grab those beers.”

Finally he lets out the air he was holding in, while he waited for Jaden to answer his question. A rush of sadness falls over Ian as he leans back onto the couch. He puts his hands on his face and rubs it. Jaden comes back in the room with two cans of ice, cold beer, and hands one to Ian. Putting it to the back of his neck, Ian lets the can cool him down.

“Do you wanna go drink these on the porch?”

“Sure.”

They take their old familiar seats on the wicker furniture and remain silent for a long time.

“I’m a shitty friend,” Jaden says, breaking the silence.

“I’m not the best friend either. And I’m the worst boyfriend there ever was. The past is in the past. Let’s not rehash it. I didn’t come here for that.”

“What did you come for?”

“Grace,” Ian says, as if Jaden should know.

“Oh.”

“Where is she, Jaden?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know.”

A wave of disappointment crashes over him. He thought that Jaden would know where Grace was. He counted on it.

“Do you mind if I go check out our old room?”

“No, of course not. All of your stuff is still in there. It’s just the way she—”

Ian places his can of beer down on the porch and stands. “Thanks, man.”

Jaden does not answer him with words. He only raises his beer and nods.

It has been months since Ian has set foot in their room in the old Victorian. He has struggled through his addiction, awoke in Las Vegas without any idea how he got there, and now he has finally found his way back home.

The door creaks loudly as he opens it. He steps into the room. His heart sinking at the smell of her. He takes a deep breath as if to savor it. His boots sound loud against the timeworn hardwood floors as he walks to the bed. The portrait that Grace drew of him sleeping, lying on his pillow. He picks up the drawing and stares at it for a long while.
She is an amazing artist.
Such an incredible girl.
How could I treat her so badly?
Lying on the bed, he places the portrait of himself on his chest, closes his eyes, and allows himself to cry. When he opens his eyes, to his shock, hanging on the back of the closet door is Grace’s wedding dress. Ian rises from the bed and walks over to where it hangs. Wondering when she got it, he runs his hand over the lace and pictures what she would have looked like in it.
It’s just her style. A little old fashioned, but with a hint of sexiness.
His heart breaks a little more.

He slowly looks around the room. It looks exactly the same as it did the last time he saw it. His shirt is still hanging from the old chair in the corner of the room.

He is sober now, so reality is a bit harder for him to deal with. He has lost his Gracie, an exceptionally hard truth for him to swallow when he had no opiate substance to help him deal with the pain. The disappointment of finding out that she really did leave several months ago weighs down on his already broken heart.

“Did I happen to mention to you today how rad this loft is,” says Michelle as she sits at her computer.

Grace laughs. “Maybe about one hundred times, Michelle.”

The loft that James leases for the girls is a gigantic open space in a century’s old beautiful building, in Paris. There are only six floors and each apartment takes up a complete floor. One entire side of the loft is floor to ceiling windows, making it a large, bright space during the day. The girls have used Parisian style partitions to separate their rooms from the rest of the loft. The kitchen is separated from the living room only by a bar with three stools placed in front of it. In the furthest corner, they have set up an office area with a beautiful white, distressed desk and a matching armoire that they have converted into a bookshelf. On top of the desk sits a rather large flat-screened all-in-one computer, a black keyboard, a photo printer and two silver speakers. The loft is decorated in French Country style with flowers and distressed furniture throughout.

Grace and Michelle both attend
Ecole
De Beaux Arts in the heart of Paris. Michelle finished her high school degree online before leaving for Paris. Michelle is obtaining her Bachelor’s degree of Science in Photography and Grace is pursuing her Bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts.

“Sometimes don’t you just sit here in disbelief?” Grace asks

“Sometimes!” Michelle squeals. “Try like every day! We’re so lucky!”

“We are, but I do miss James.”

“Me too. I’m looking forward to going home for Christmas, but that is so far away,” Michelle says, as she continues to type on her keyboard.

“What do you think of his new girlfriend, Sara?” Grace asks, as she sets her gaze on the photograph of James who has his arm wrapped around a young woman with pale skin, large brown eyes, and dark brown hair. Grace smiles when her eyes focus on James’ smile. He looks completely in love, and this fills her with such happiness.

“She’s okay, I guess. A little over eager to be nice to me.”

“She just wants you to like her, Missy. Besides, you’ve only talked to her on the phone. I’m sure you’ll love her when we finally meet her in person.”

The girls go back to their studies until Michelle breaks the silence in the room. “Did you get that job you went to the casting for yesterday?”

Grace peers up from her textbook and gives her a huge grin.

“You bitch!” Michelle crosses her arms. “They didn’t hire me! That runway job will pay the bills for two months!”

Grace only looks at her and smiles, then turns her gaze to the windows. As she looks out onto the sparkling city lights, her thoughts turn to Ian.

Many nights Grace finds herself lying in her bed as her mind wanders to thoughts of Ian. She wonders if Ian is even still alive and the thought that he is not is almost too much for her to bear. Several months have passed since the last time she laid eyes on him, but her heart still has a hole in it, an empty space that Ian’s love used to fill.

Michelle tried setting Grace up with their neighbor who lives two lofts down, but Grace just could not get her mind off Ian their entire date. She knows that she needs to move on, but she does not know how. There are a few boys that she finds attractive at school. There is also one extremely hot model that barely speaks a word of English, who whistles at her every time she passes by him at the modeling agency. Nothing ever comes of her attractions to these boys. Her heart is still lost to Ian, and she does not know if he is alive or dead.

Grace has settled in for the evening.

“Are you going to go to sleep?” asks Michelle,
peering
her head around Grace’s partition.

“Oh, yeah,” Grace says, sitting up in her bed.

She tries to wipe the tears away before Michelle can see, but she is too late.

“Ian?” Michelle asks, as she sits on the edge of Grace’s bed.

“Who else?” Grace asks, partially crying and partially laughing, but feeling completely embarrassed for still shedding tears over him.

“One day you’re going to fall in love like that again.” Michelle crawls into bed with her and wraps her arms around her.

“I don’t want to,” Grace says, swiftly. “I never want to get hurt like this again.”

“One day you will find a man that won’t ever hurt you the way Ian did,” Michelle says, as she squeezes Grace tightly. “I promise.”

“Jaden.” He is in the kitchen grabbing another beer when he hears his name.

“Ah yeah, man, what’s up?” Jaden says
,
turning to find Ian leaning against the door frame with his head bent down.

“Is it cool with you if I crash here for a while until I get my own place?”

Jaden blinks his eyes with doubt. “Yeah, man, you know mi casa
es
su
casa,” Jaden mutters, and grabs another beer from the refrigerator and hands it to Ian.

“Thanks, bro. I really appreciate it,” Ian says, as he turns to walk away.

“Ian,” Jaden asks, stopping him just before he reaches the door. “You’re clean, right?”

Ian looks serious when he turns to face him. “Yes. Absolutely. I’m never going back to that hell, man. You don’t have to worry. I’ll never betray your trust like that again.”

“I can’t totally trust you, but something inside is telling me that you’re being truthful. Don’t fuck it up. You seem like the friend I’ve always known again, instead of the prick you turned into.” Jaden searches Ian’s face. “You do seem a little broken though.”

“I guess that’s a good way to describe me,” Ian says, obviously forcing a smile onto his face. “I’m sorry, Jaden. I’m sorry about all the chaos. The lying. Everything, man. I’m sorry about everything. I really fucked it all up.”

Jaden walks to Ian and pats his shoulder. “I’m sorry, too. Come on. Let’s go sit on the porch and enjoy this bitchin’ California morning and then how about you tell me what happened to you.”

Ian nods his head. “Are you sure you wanna hear it?”

“Yeah. I am.”

They take their seats on the porch and Ian begins his story.

The moon’s rays shine through Jaden’s bedroom window. He sits on his bed and looks through his recent mail for the letter he saw in the stack earlier that week, from Grace. At the time, he was not ready to read it so he put it aside. Jaden was having a hard time grasping the fact that Grace had moved out of the country and he knew that opening the letter would only aggravate his emotions.

Picking it up, he notices that it smells like her perfume. He opens the letter to find a photograph of Grace and Michelle with the Eiffel Tower in the background. They are smiling with wide, radiant grins. In Grace’s eyes he can still see a hint of sadness, even though the smile she wears expresses something different.

In the letter, Grace tells Jaden all about their loft, school, modeling, and the great new friends they have made in Paris. She also includes a whole paragraph about all of the superb French pastries they have been enjoying, which makes him laugh.

Jaden puts the letter down with a heavy heart. He decides that not telling Grace about Ian is the best course of action for now.
She is so happy, she is moving on with her life.
To bring Ian up to her now when she is so far away doesn’t make any sense.
He hides the letter in a box in his closet, where he has also hidden the song that he wrote for Grace and a few photographs that he took of her when they lived together. Shame devours him as he sits back on his bed and listens to Ian pacing the floor above him.

Ian sits on the edge of the bed, breathing deeply to inhale Grace’s scent. He hopes that it will never fade. That the day will never come when he walks into their room and it smells like the rest of the house. He racks his brain trying to figure out what he should do to find her.

He tried to call her cell phone, only to discover that she had disconnected it. He has written her a couple of letters and sent them to her old address in Ocean View, but never received a letter back. He knows in his heart that chasing her is not what she wants. He has attempted too many times to reach her with no response. He has even called and left messages on James’s voicemail.
She wants nothing to do with me
.

He lies on the bed and rubs his face against Grace’s pillow. He knows he has destroyed everything he ever loved. His heart is broken into a million pieces, and he knows he is the only one to blame for it.

As he lies there he thinks of all his failures and recalls his multiple suicide attempts. The first was in a hotel in Inglewood, California shortly after he walked in on Grace having sex with Jaden. He knew he drew too much heroin into the needle, but injected it into his vein despite knowing it could kill him. In fact, he was hoping it would end his life, the new life of sorrow he began only a few short hours before finding her with Jaden.