25. Jeb
Chapter twenty-five
Jeb
I make it to the corner of River Road and Heron Street before I spin a U-turn in the middle of the sidewalk. Walking away from Fallon made me feel sicker than I had felt in a while. Every step I took, the sicker I felt.
Knowing Fallon’s probably having words with her mom because of me has me sweating and my stomach churning. She’s been through so much, and I can’t help but feel that I’ve been responsible for basically all of it. The first was a terrible accident, but now, just my presence is causing chaos in her life.
That in itself should make me want to go and never bother her again. But instead, I want to be there for her. I’m drawn to her.
My body calms as I near the Chetta, cozying into the Adirondack, listening to the birds. Occasionally, I’ll hear Fallon or her mom talking loudly, but there isn’t any of the shouting Fallon warned me against. Eventually, I hear the screened door slam shut, then a car door slams, and an engine starts.
I text Fallon instead of walking to the house and possibly scaring her.
I stayed. I’m on the dock.
Fallon yells from the grassy patch sandwiched between the deck and the driveway, “Come up. I didn’t eat the casserole but I could go for some canned ravioli. Haven’t had that since I was a kid.”
I follow the sound of her voice, chuckling to myself. How did this become my life? Hanging out with Fallon and bringing cans of ravioli for dinner.
“I take it the rest of the time with your mom went all right? I didn’t hear any yelling.”
“Not exactly. She thinks it’s preposterous that we’re friends. I gave her a quick run-down of our friendship and told her to go. I think she needs a minute, but I wish she’d been nicer about it. Rhett was like a son to her, so she’s probably just caught off guard. Although now I’m making excuses for her because I was caught off guard when you came that first day, and I never treated you like shit.” Fallon holds the door to the deck open for me.
I walk through, finding all of the food I brought laid out on the kitchen island.
“The food is a random smorgasbord, but what really concerns me is the rats cake.” She smiles at me, her eyes shimmering.
“That’s what I came here to tell you about,” I tell her, offering no real explanation.
“About rats?”
“Short for congrats.”
“Ahh, a congrats cake. Well, that makes more sense. What are we celebrating?” She pauses. “Or, whose cake did you steal to bring me?”
“We’re celebrating me.”
“Okay, Jeb Baker. Will I have to ask a thousand questions, or will you finally get to the point?” She puts her hands on her hips. She looks cute.
“I rode the medic unit today. I was the paramedic.” Fallon jumps up and down, clapping like I just finished a marathon.
“Jeb!” she screams. “Sit. Tell me more!”
I sit on the stool on the opposite side of the island while Fallon listens intently to my recollection of today’s events, her elbows resting on the table and her head propped on her hands. Sometime during my story, she opens the crackers and cuts the cheese. We both munch intermittently. Fallon’s face lights up with every word.
“I’m so proud of you!” She waits until I’ve told the entire story to rush around the island and wrap me in her arms. “How wonderful, Jeb. Do you think you’ll do it again? This is a big step. You feel okay now?” The questions fly from her lips, unable to reel her excitement in.
“I told my lieutenant I’d like to ride more calls, but maybe not full-time, and definitely no car accidents yet. I have a feeling I’ll eventually be able to handle that, but not now. It felt good, though, like riding a bike. I got right back in there.”
“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll be back to work full-time eventually, but you have to remember the accident happened less than eight months ago. It’s all right to take your time adjusting. I still don’t drive past the accident scene, and I don’t think you do either. I haven’t been to Rhett’s favorite spots, like Watersburg Park, or any of our favorite restaurants. I haven’t seen any of Rhett’s high school friends, and we used to see them and their girlfriends once a month. I’m sure they’re still hanging out, without me. Maybe one day I’ll start going again, but who knows? Maybe I never will.”
“Things aren’t the same as they were before the accident, and they never will be. I hope eventually you can go to those places and think happily of Rhett and the times you had—but it’s easier said than done, isn’t it?”
God, I’ve done a lot of healing since meeting Fallon, but I still wish it would’ve been me instead. I used to think it was for Rhett’s sake, but now that I’ve met Fallon, it’s for her. I’d do anything to shelter her and prevent her from ever knowing such a heartbreak. She’d still be living with the love of her life at her old house, planning a wedding. Planning a future.
“Yeah, it is.” She spits out a little laugh. “God, how I could go for an Enzaboli.”
“What’s an Enzaboli?”
“It’s a stromboli at Enzo’s. But they call it an Enzaboli. I can taste the stringy melted cheese right now.”
“And all I brought was canned ravioli.”
Fallon laughs, a full belly laugh. Doubled over in the kitchen. “Oh, that’s funny. You bring ravioli, and I’m craving Enzabolis.”
“If you ever want an Enzaboli, I can get you one. Is it the restaurant that bothers you or the food itself?” I clarify.
“Probably the restaurant, but maybe the food. Rhett and I would each get one, then split it. I’d get a cheesesteak boli, and he’d get a veggie. He didn’t want the veggie one, but he knew those were my two favorites, and he didn’t want me to have to pick one.”
“Sounds like he knew how to be the perfect fiancé,” I say truthfully. From what I know about Rhett, he loved Fallon well and cared for her a lot.
“Yeah, well, he made me take the trash out every week because the smell would make him gag.” She smiles.
“Hey now, I don’t need to know his dark side.” I reach across the table to grab two crackers and make a sandwich with the cheese.
“He had his quirks, but all men do. He couldn’t find the keys in the junk drawer to save his life. And the ketchup. Always losing the ketchup to the door of the fridge.”
Once Fallon was on the subject of talking about Rhett, she couldn’t stop. I learned about his short-lived race-car pit crew job, how he was the Cardinal mascot his senior year in college, and how he couldn’t stand the thought of touching chalk. He loved to garden but would let the weeds take over mid-summer. His track and field teammates called him Rhett the Jet when he’d race. Eventually, the whole school thought his name was Jet.
Fallon told me how they met: a blind date set up by a friend named Hattie. She’d wanted Fallon to date a different guy, but he didn’t show up, so Fallon thought Rhett was her date. Rhett ditched his friends and sat down for another guy’s blind date. The rest was history.
“Had we known each other, Rhett and I would’ve been friends, I think,” I tell her when she finishes a story about Rhett trying to teach her how to waterski on the river.
“I think so, too.” She wipes her eyes, tears of laughter pouring from the corners.
“This night has been good for me. I think I forgot that I could talk about Rhett. No one seems to want to talk about him anymore. Maybe they do, but they’re afraid of how I’ll react.”
“I’d love to hear more stories anytime they come to your mind.” I reach my hand toward the center of the table to grab a piece of cheese when Fallon links her pinky with mine.
“Thanks, Jeb. And if talking about Rhett ever upsets you, just let me know, and I’ll stop.”
“Why would talking about him upset me?” The tingling sensation in my pinky finger makes me wonder if she feels it, too.
“Just if it brings up bad memories for you or if you think I’m bringing him up too much.”
“Fal. Every single day, I think about the accident. You talking about Rhett makes me happy. I like when you’re happy. As long as it’s good for you, it’s good for me.”
The light on the deck automatically flickers on when daylight turns dark, and I take that as my cue to head home. We never did get around to the ravioli, but I know today was good for her soul. Laughing and reminiscing about Rhett. It was long overdue for her.
Fallon hugs me when I get up to leave, thanking me for the company. It’s funny because it doesn’t seem right if we don’t hug goodbye. I’ve never been a hugger and probably never will be one. I don’t routinely hug my mom or my sister or my nieces. I’m just not that kind of guy.
But with Fallon? I’d feel sad if we didn’t hug.