Let Me: Let Me Fall Part 25

He was staring into his empty soup bowl then, deep in thought. After a minute he looked up and asked, "Would you...I mean if there was, like, a group of people going and it was, like, Andie and Tori...would you want to come up and ski with us...stay at my house?"

His foot started tapping, which forced his knee to b.u.mp the tabletop. He was still too big for his own good and, I realized suddenly, he was nervous. Was he worried that I wouldn't take him up on the invitation, or did he regret it now that the words were already out of his mouth? Was he thinking that getting close to me again may not be a good idea? The second possibility pained me. I stalled. "I didn't know you had a place up there."

"Just got it last year. Me and my dad own it. It's not exactly a palace now, but our aim is to fix it up, little by little."

"That's great."

He cleared his throat, "So Andie and her boyfriend, Mateo, are coming up the weekend after next. I could invite Tori up too...and Taylor. You interested?"

I looked down at the table. "Are you sure?"

He took my hand. "Are you asking me if I want you there? With me?"

I was certain he was going to tell me that I was being silly-that we were just friends. Way to go, Carolyn. I'd just made myself look presumptuous and foolish.

"Hey," he said, and then waited until I looked up. "I want you there. I...I want to get to know you again. But I'll never push you. I'm taking my cues from you. I mean," he smiled and started laughing, "for all I know you want nothing to do with me."

Screw looking too eager. I couldn't help the smile that spread wide across my face. "I'd really like to go skiing with you next weekend, Jeremy."

This was the slowest night I'd ever worked at La Viola and I was grateful for it. My mind had been elsewhere and my heart had been doing happy backflips since my lunch date with Jeremy on Wednesday.

Thanksgiving Day I woke up to a text from Jeremy. It was just an emoji of a turkey but it may as well have been a declaration of his love and devotion. I sent him back a picture of me and my dad at the starting line of the Turkey Trot run and he texted: show off :) Friday I braved the Black Friday crowds at the mall and got myself some new skiwear. I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard, but h.e.l.l, I was. I needed to look good-so good that Jeremy would never ever even think about Big b.o.o.bs again.

So as I worked the few tables that came in on that Sat.u.r.day after Thanksgiving, my mind was elsewhere. "Carolyn, dear," a familiar voice called to me from over by the ladies' room.

"Mrs. Cole! How are you?"

Margot Cole was another person who had come out of the woodwork after the tragedy. One of several people who showed me that true kindness and selflessness did exist in this world.

When I was at my very lowest, she made a point of regularly coming over and visiting with my mother. Being that my family had become the town pariahs, friends.h.i.+p from one of the most powerful and influential women in our community meant a great deal. No one dared dismiss my mother when Margot Cole was making it a point to include her in every prominent social function there was.

For the past three years, Mrs. Cole had made it her mission to also help me out in whatever way she could. The fact that Will Clarke was her beloved nephew made the kindness she directed towards me and my family something that I would never, ever forget.

"I'm well," she replied, taking me in from head to toe. "But you, my lovely, look positively radiant."

I giggled. "Thank you."

"So is everyone treating you well here?"

"Yes. I love working here. Thank you again for putting in a good word for me."

"Pshaw, they're lucky to have you. And giving an overly qualified, stunningly beautiful girl a job is the least they could do for one of their best customers."

I took in her effusive compliments with raised eyebrows and a smile. "Who are you here with, Dylan?"

"No, in fact, I'm here with my niece, Anna."

"Will's little sister," I said, my voice trailing off. I collected myself again. "How is she doing?"

"Pop over and ask her yourself," she said, smiling over her shoulder with a rea.s.suring nod and a wink.

Not only did I approach Anna, but I went ahead and asked if she would meet me for coffee the next morning. And I'm so very glad that I did.

In her own way, Anna was more enlightened than most people twice her age. Listening to her talk about the past few years-everything she'd gone through and how she felt now that she'd had time to process everything-well, she inspired me. More importantly, she lifted a burden off of me when she forgave me and rea.s.sured me that I was, in no way, to blame.

After all this time, had I entertained the idea that it wasn't my fault? Of course. But there was always a lingering sadness, a niggling doubt. If only I had reached out to Drew again. Those awful, prophetic words he'd said in the parking lot haunted me. If only I had reached out to his parents or someone in school who could have helped him...

If only...

Anna got up to leave, hugging me tight before she turned to go. I flopped back down into the plush chair in the corner of the coffee house and let out a deep breath as a few tears escaped.

"You okay?" Tori asked, a deflated look on her face.

"Yeah. What about you? Seeing her has to rough."

Tori settled into the chair opposite me. "Not in the way you'd think."

"How so?"

"It makes me feel...invisible. Like, Anna doesn't really even know who I am. She'll never know who Will was to me or who I was to him. And then I question if I really meant anything to him at all, you know?"

Shaking my head and holding her hand, I tried to rea.s.sure her. "Everyone knew he was crazy about you, Tori." I smiled then. "Lord, I had to listen to Samantha whine about it incessantly. It burned her...the fact that Will was into you and wouldn't give her the time of day."

"As far as most people are concerned, though, he and I were no more than friends. And that was on me. After he died, I resented everyone and everything...just the cards I'd been dealt. I was furious with my father for just sitting back and allowing me to take on all that responsibility, mad at my brothers for needing me so much...h.e.l.l, I was mad at my poor mom for dying." She looked away for a moment, collecting herself. "If I'd had a normal life, like every other girl he knew, things might have been different."

"I always felt bad that you had to take care of your brothers but I also admired you for it. I'm sure Will did too."

She smiled. "He did. And he'd always try and help me out. He was there whenever I needed him. But I blame myself sometimes, like, was I there for him?"

"What do you mean?"

She looked out the window. It had started to rain, hard. "I can still barely think back to that day without wanting to cry and punch a wall," she said, shaking her head. "He'd betrayed me and I wanted to hate him but I couldn't...I blamed myself for it."

"Kerri?"

"Yeah. I mean, if I had ever allowed myself to go to a party, then it might never have happened. It wasn't exactly an ideal situation for him, to be with me, someone who barely ever socialized.

"Will came over right after he dropped her off that morning. He was so sick that he threw up in my backyard. Then I remember him crying. It scared me to death. The only man I'd ever witnessed crying was my father, so I thought something tragic had happened. I guess it had, you know?"

I squeezed her hand. "I can't imagine how that felt, Tori. But I was still friends with Kerri at that point and I can tell you, she had no idea what had happened. It was like they were drugged or something."

"Or just really drunk," she added, looking doubtful and disgusted. "I'd just lost my virginity to Will the month before so I took it pretty hard."

"Really?" I blurted out.

She nodded with raised eyebrows. "See, you never would have guessed that. No one knew. It was Will's first time too."

"Wow," I added absently, lost in thought.

"So after he came clean, groveled and whatever, I took the high road and all that, but it just gutted me. And I did hate her. I never thought she'd orchestrated it or anything, but I just hated the idea that Kerri had gotten a part of him. And how she looked at him after the fact, all smitten and infatuated? And Will," she shook her head, fighting back tears, "with his inability to be mean to anyone, it's like he still needed to rea.s.sure her and make sure she was all right. I hated that he was concerned about her, you know? I was so d.a.m.n jealous that sometimes I couldn't see straight. I could still scream just thinking about it."

"G.o.d, who could blame you?"

"But I was mad at myself-mad at my circ.u.mstances. Sometimes I still just want a do-over, you know? I want to go back and have the chance to really be his girlfriend."

The rain had tapered off and a few more customers had now joined the line. Tori wiped her eye with the corner of her ap.r.o.n and then forced a smile. "Seeing Anna just dredged that all up."

I was going to mention Jeremy's invitation to the ski house but figured that could wait. I squeezed her hand as she stood. "Thanks for sharing all that with me, Tori."

"Love you, Carolyn."

"Love you, too."

It was another one of those moments when you realize that everyone has their own s.h.i.+t to deal with, their own long-buried stories. Everyone, not just me, had reasons to wish for a do-over.

Things weren't going exactly as planned. I'd been staying overnight in New Haven, close to this disastrous job site, since Thanksgiving night. I'd gotten a call from the local fire department, alerting me that a small fire had been put out. The police had a suspect in custody, a squatter with a history of arson. The fire was contained but a whole lot of damage had been done. My crew had to come in to re-do already completed work. This was setting us back big time, and being that I had other jobs lined up, I needed to be as close to on-schedule as possible.

Owning your own business had its perks...and its drawbacks.

Even with all this going on, Carolyn and our upcoming ski weekend was still front and center in my mind. We had texted back and forth a few times, one-liners, nothing big, but she let me know that Taylor and Tori were in. That was good because in all this mess, I'd forgotten to invite them. I did ask Andie and Mateo and let out a relieved breath when they said yes. Andie and her kookiness would reduce the chance of any awkward silences and she was guaranteed for a constant stream of laughter. Frank had angled for an invite but I put him off. I liked Sadie, she made Frank happy, but I wasn't taking any chances. I needed to get myself on solid ground with Carolyn before I had her around anyone who was linked to Kenzie.

Everyone was coming up Friday night except for Carolyn. She had swapped Sat.u.r.day for Friday night at La Viola. She said she'd leave early enough so that she could hit the slopes with us on Sat.u.r.day.

I left New Haven early on Friday, before lunch, so that I'd have some time to set up. They were all working Friday so I wasn't expecting them until late, but when the clock read seven, then eight and then nine o'clock, I turned on the radio to listen to the news. The snow had been falling all day, but it didn't seem like anything too out of the ordinary. A little to the south, though, a band of heavy snow had pa.s.sed through, dumping over two feet and closing some stretches of highway. I called Tori and it went straight to voicemail-same with Andie. It was midnight before I'd gotten texts back from them both, letting me know they'd turned back.

I cracked a beer in front of the fireplace, disappointed, and resigned myself to a weekend of skiing solo.

I was up at six, planning to hit the slopes early. I liked being one of the first out there to take advantage of the powdery snow and empty trails. There was a quiet heaven in that solitude. I could eat later in the morning, when all the sleepyheads finally dragged themselves out of bed and crowded the chairlift lines.

When I was dressed and ready, though, I encountered a minor obstacle. I couldn't open my front door. I looked out the window to see what looked like a four-foot drift wedged up against it. From the sliding gla.s.s doors on the deck I looked out onto a winter wonderland. It was serene and quiet. The snow was coming down heavy but without the biting wind that I could hear howling during the night.

I trudged across the back deck, around to the front of house and surveyed my truck, as well as the road that led from my house to the main street. No, I'm not going anywhere just yet.

I busied myself shoveling the deck and clearing out the front steps and porch. d.a.m.n, the snow was heavy. It took me a full hour just to clear that small area. I was about to head back in and peel off my soaking wet clothes when I heard a far-off voice call out my name like a question. I turned and saw a girl half-way down my long driveway, whose lower half was enveloped by a snow drift.

It was Carolyn.

Holy s.h.i.+t, it was her.

I started running towards her but I wasn't really running-more like taking slow, awkward steps through what felt like a stone wall. When I got closer, I could see that she had all but stopped trying to walk, a large aluminum tray resting next to her on the snow, which was up to her thighs.

"How the h.e.l.l did you get here?"

"It was fine when I left at four in the morning." She looked past me. "Oh my G.o.d, what's with the long-a.s.s driveway, J. R. Ewing?"

"Who?"

"That's right, I forgot you don't do television re-runs or cla.s.sic eighties movies."

"I think your brain's frostbitten," I said as I was finally next to her, grabbing her backpack. "How bad was the ride?"

"Actually, not that bad on the highways, they were plowed. But once I got to the base of the mountain, I chickened out after I felt my car swerve once or twice."

"Jesus, you should have called me."

"I did try. No reception. Anyway, I hitched a ride with a couple driving a gigantic SUV. But even that was nail-biting, coming up the mountain with all those turns. The guy took one look at your driveway and asked, 'You good from here?'"

The wind was picking up again; you could barely make out ten feet in front of you. We trudged through the snow slowly, Carolyn carrying the large tray, while I had her huge knapsack. We laughed at our awkward steps and how long it was taking us to make it such a short distance. But it was taking long. As we got to my porch, Carolyn all but collapsed on the stairs, s.h.i.+vering.

"I didn't realize you had jeans on. s.h.i.+t, Carolyn, let's get you inside and out of those. I threw her bags inside, abandoned the tray on the porch, and then I reached down and carried her inside and sat her in front of the fire. She s.h.i.+mmied out of her jacket and peeled off her thin gloves to reveal stiff, pink fingers. She couldn't undo the b.u.t.ton on her jeans, her hands were trembling so bad. I looked to her for consent and then did my best to peel the wet denim down her legs without looking directly at her. Holy awkwardness. My hands were shaking by then, too, as I grabbed an afghan off the couch and wrapped her up in it.

"Sit tight. I'm gonna make you some tea."

"I'm f-f-fine, Jeremy."

"Sure you are," I called back over my shoulder, smiling. Couldn't help it. I liked taking care of her.

The radio was still on in the kitchen. "Looks like another two feet or so will be dumped on us before this is all said and done. Sorry, folks," the weatherman joked, "I hate getting it wrong as much as you hate me when I get it wrong. Smuggler's Notch and Stowe have lots of freshly dumped powder. Trails are open. Killington and Bromley, though, total white-out. No lifts running at this time."

Handing her the steaming mug, I couldn't help but think to myself that she was beautiful. I took in the wet strands clinging to her face, cheeks pink from the frosty snow pelting her, and the purple-painted toes peeking out from beneath the blanket.

"I'm afraid to ask, but where is everyone?" She looked around, uneasy.

"They all turned back last night...bad driving conditions. You're stuck with me."

"I suppose I am," she said, cracking a shy smile. Her eyes widened. "I'd better call my parents. My father's probably watching the weather channel, thinking I'm in a ditch somewhere." She threw her head back. "Oh, c.r.a.p! I left my phone on the charger in my car. It's probably a little block of ice by now."

I tossed her my phone and then gathered up her jacket, gloves and jeans. "I'm gonna throw these in the dryer, all right?"

She smiled and nodded at me as she waited for her call to connect. As I made my way downstairs to the laundry room, I felt a sense of panic gripping me. The panic was fleeting, though, and soon replaced by antic.i.p.ation. We were stuck here together, me and Carolyn. Snowed in, just the two of us.

This should be interesting.

"Hey, you should still be by the fire. What are you doing?"

Carolyn was crouched by the open front door, reaching over and sliding in the giant tray that we'd left on the porch. "I'm not letting some racc.o.o.ns get at this. I spent most of yesterday morning slaving over a hot stove."

She lifted the tray off the floor once she'd gotten it inside. As she stood, the afghan slid off one shoulder. "Whoops! Grab this for me Jeremy," she said, gesturing to the tray. She readjusted the small blanket, pulling it higher, so now it revealed every inch of her long legs, the skin still pink from the cold. She looked up at me and I realized I was standing there holding the tray while, like an a.s.shole, ogling her legs. She cleared her throat. "You wanna stick that in the fridge? Um...I'm going to hop in the shower quick and then change into some dry clothes, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, recovering. "Take the first room off the hallway. It has a bathroom. I'll run you a bath if you want." I'll run you a bath? Holy s.h.i.+t, Rivers, you sound like a d.a.m.n pervert.

"Um...I'm good with a shower. But thanks," she added awkwardly.

Carolyn wet. Carolyn naked and wet. This was going to be torture. No, a.s.shole, it's going to be good. You're going to make this a good weekend for her. Get your s.h.i.+t together and stop acting like a h.o.r.n.y teenager.

"Wow, this is huge, Jeremy. I hope you're not giving up your room for me," she called out from the bedroom.

"Nah, no a.s.signed rooms," I answered as I came in with her bags. "You like it, though? I did decorate it myself."