#1 The Softest Fall

when worlds collide and two hearts fall simultaneously.

Fall

One more.

“Just one– more,” I grunted as my bottom lip curled between my teeth.

My hands were in flames. My back was preparing to lock. And, my limbs were near the point of total collapse.

Just one more.

“Ugh!”

I landed both feet on the top floor of my building. The dated wood announced my presence. So did the wheels of the suitcases in front of me.

“My God.”

I pushed the three sets of wheels toward one of the only two doors on the tenth floor. Upon reaching the chipping paint of the hunter green doorframe, I patted the pocket of my oversized denim jacket.

There.

The key’s retrieval led to my entry. My heart hammered against my hand as it rested on my chest. With shallow, unpredictable breaths sporadically piercing the air, I stood motionless in the five-hundred square foot studio apartment.

Both fear and pride raced to my head. The ultimate prize was my thoughts. I quickly chose a winner before the race ended.

I’m proud of you, kid.

My father’s voice echoed in every corner of the apartment. Even at thirty, I was considered a kid in his eyes. His kid, nonetheless.

My dreams of being a resident of Saint, Huffington had finally come to fruition. Small-town girls didn’t find their way up here often, but I wasn’t like the others. I had never been. Though it took me some time to make the move, I’d done it. And, I’d done it just how I wanted to.

Alone and just about empty-handed.

Almost everything I owned was donated back in Perry. They didn’t belong in this new chapter with me. Neither did the energy they carried. I wasn’t the same person I was when I purchased them. I was better.

Bolder.

Wiser.

More sure of myself than I’d ever been.

“So this is love?” I finally spoke, allowing my eyelids to join.

My cheeks hiked, revealing my smile from the inside out.

Bzzzt.

Bzzzt.

The skin peeled back, and my eyes widened. I shoved my right hand into my back pocket, retrieving my cellphone. I swiped to answer and pressed the phone against my ear.

“Hello?”

“Fall–”

My mother’s voice dangled over my heart as I turned toward my suitcases, still in the hallway.

“Yes, Mom?”

“I’ve checked your location. You’ve made it safely.”

“I have.”

Bending over, I laid my hands on the luggage and began pushing it forward.

“Good. That’s so exciting. I wish we were there to help.”

“You’ll come… You and Dad. I just nee–”

“I know, baby. There’s no need to explain. I’m just being a mother. When you’re ready– on your time– and you’re absolutely sure it’s fine–” she paused, “then we’ll come.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Um hm. Now, you sound exhausted. Have you eaten?”

It wasn’t until the words were spoken that I realized I hadn’t. Suddenly, I felt faint. My stomach ached with hunger.

“You haven’t, have you?”

“I haven’t, but as soon as I get unpac–”

“Now, Fall. You know how you are. Once you’re unpacked, you’ll say you can just wait until the morning. If you don’t do anything else before you unpack those suitcases, put something on your stomach.”

I nodded with a sigh, knowing she was right.

“I will.”

The suitcases joined me in the middle of the floor.

“And, now that I think about it,” I sniggered, “There’s nowhere to put the stuff anyway.”

“Exactly. You’re starting from ground zero, baby.”

“A blanket and a pillow.”

“Those are the best beginnings. The most memorable ones.”

“Yeah. I think so too.”

Silently, I admired the details of the studio apartment that I’d be calling home for the next fifteen months. The images online and the video tour did it very little justice. The complex was built over a hundred years ago, and the new owners preserved the vintage charm as much as possible.

There was a fireplace, built-in bookcases, a breakfast nook that overlooked the city, a balcony that ran the length of the rear of the apartment, a fire escape, and original wood flooring.

I’m in love. I squealed inside. I was far too tired to display my excitement or the utter intrigue I was experiencing.

“Food,” my mother reminded me, breaking the silence. “Something light. It’s nearing eight.”

“Yes. Food.”

“Now, Fall.”

“Yes. Now.”

“Alright. I’ll call you later this week unless you’d rather have me wait for your call.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay. I love you, honey.”

“I love you back, baby,” I responded, gnawing on my bottom lip.

The move was bittersweet. My mother was my best friend. My soft landing. My safe space.

The call ended, and so did my enthusiasm. The realization of my decision hit me like a ton of bricks.

I’m alone.

In a new city.

A thousand miles from my tribe.

“I’m going to need some wine to face this music.”

Silence was on shuffle and would be until I settled into the idea of being completely alone.

In a new city.

A thousand miles away from my tribe.

I turned around, faced the door of my new space, and placed one foot in front of the other. My load was lighter, making my descent easier. The logistics behind choosing a ten-story walk-up had everything to do with girl math. I imagined I’d have no other choice but to get my ten thousand daily steps in running up and down the stairs.

Food was my greatest escape most days, and if I didn’t stay active, it would be my gateway to genetic obesity and diabetes. I watched my grandmother, aunts, and uncles suffer enough to know that I didn’t want frequent visits to the doctor’s office and a lifelong supply of meds.

They weren’t properly educated on the effects of the conditions by the people before them. It left them with health issues and unhealthy eating habits that spiraled with age. My mother had broken the cycle. I’d be foolish to restart it.

Portion control.

No eating after eight.

De-center food.

Dinner isn’t the only date option.

Get ten thousand steps in.

Walk to escape the madness.

Stay active.

My mother’s approach was simple, and I had adopted it as a teen.

“Almost there.”

I’d conquered six flights and had four more to go.

But where will I go?

What do I have a taste for?

As the thoughts circulated, my phone vibrated in my hand. The preview from my mother’s text let me know that she heard them all the way in Perry.

Rest your bones. Have a seat somewhere.

I didn’t open the message. I knew exactly what she meant and why she’d said it. I’d been moving nonstop for seven days. I deserved a seat at a fine table with linen before me and appetizers in front of me. Red wine would ease my nerves. The new environment would give me inspiration for my next piece.

I strutted through the lobby with the double doors in my view. The doorman pushed them open as I whisked past.

“Have a good evening, ma’am.”

“So do you, Samuel.”

I’d remembered his name. It had only taken a single encounter. My complex had no elevator, but all the other luxuries were present.

Concierge. A doorman. Laundry services. Dog walkers. A gym. And, the list went on.

I dug into the pocket that held the key to my place and carefully removed the folded sheet of large paper. Red circles were scattered all over the city’s map. I’d carefully researched every restaurant within a fifteen-mile radius because that was how far I was willing to go for a bite of food on any given day. For special occasions, travel wouldn’t be a concern.

“Okay.”

I peered up at the street signs as I neared the corner.

Jackson and Unis.

I was on Jackson. It connected to Unis and led to Center Street. Center led to anywhere and everywhere, almost, including the train station where I was likely headed.

HONK.

HONK!

My nervous system shattered as the sound of loud horns pushed my hair back on my face. My eyes threatened to blossom beyond their sockets. And, my limbs all froze at once.

Just as my body stilled, it began moving again. The New Balances I wore kissed the evening air. The map crumbled between my body and another.

One that wasn’t mine.

One firmer.

Harder.

Bigger.

Faster.

Far more in control.

As I was planted on the concrete, I noticed just how far we’d traveled. My eyes darted from the middle of the street, where I’d wandered, to the sidewalk where I’d landed.

And then to him.

Him.

Oh him.

Long, thick limbs went on for lifetimes. It took me a decade to reach his handsome face. It was marked with a sign of birth. The slightly lighter, kale-shaped patch covered most of the left side. It was accompanied by big eyes etched with concern.

“You can’t get yourself killed before I get the chance to know you.”

Again, I peered at the street he’d just rescued me from and then at him. He was wearing chocolate from his head to his toes. A chain dangled from his neck. It was gold and shiny and full of the clearest diamonds. His teeth were white and pretty, just like his face. A gold bar rested beneath them, covering only a centimeter or two of his pearly whites.

My body’s temperature suffered a tremendous increase. Flashes of warmth trailed from my skull to my ankles.

“Thank you.”

“This is going to land you in a hospital, Momma.”

He removed the map from my hand.

“That’s what we have these for.”

He signaled toward the phone in my hand.

“Well, my intention is to never become too dependent on them.”

“Understood.”

I swallowed the nothingness in my throat. He smelled like silk and sage and citrus and sandalwood.

“So, yeah. I should be going.”

“Where?”

His intrusiveness felt more like a privilege than it should’ve.

“To find food.”

“Not without me–” he stated as a matter of fact, “To make sure you make it back to your block in one piece or whatever.”

I remained silent. His presence was mesmerizing.

Words were difficult.

Thoughts were delayed.

Time didn’t exist.

Everything around us stopped.

Everyone around us vanished.

“I’m Poetry,” he informed me, extending his hand.

Yes. Yes, you are poetry.

So beautiful. So rare. So thoughtful.

With my breath swelling my chest, I nodded. Physically unable to grab hold of his long fingers and massive palm.

“Fa– Fall.”

He dropped his hand and used the other to shove the map in the trash can next to us.

“You won’t be needing that, Fall, not as long as you have me.”

to be continued…