Five Ways to Fall
Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths #4)(37)
Author: K.A. Tucker
And glancing at her husband’s face, I believe he heard it too. I watch as whatever little spark of fury sat burning in him dies. He hangs his head and shuffles quietly past us and out the door.
Walking slowly forward to Ben and me, she reaches up to lay a hand on his cheek. “It was an accident, Benjamin. We all know that. Even he knows that, whether he wants to admit it or not.” Fresh tears find their way down Wilma’s cheek. “But everything after is all my fault.”
Ben releases me to pull Wilma’s tiny frame into his arms. “None of this was ever your fault.”
She steps away, guiding him back to me with a sad smile. “I’m just so happy to have you both here. You go enjoy yourselves. Benjamin, I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make it right.” With that, she turns and steps away, a fierce smile of determination painting her face.
And I’m left standing in the middle of this vast open space, watching a very quiet Ben stare at that old unfinished coffee table with a lost look on his face, battling something privately.
“Ben?” I call out, fighting against the shiver as I hear his name bounce off the high walls.
It seems to break him free of his trance because he turns to me and cracks a grin. “Come on. Let’s go.” The strain in his voice is unmistakable, though, and there’s certainly no twinkle in his eye.
“What happened in here?”
“Ahh . . .” His gaze drops to the ground, his lips tucking into his mouth in a tight purse. “The worst day of my life. That’s what.” He tries to cast it off with a lazy shrug.
My sneakers scrape against the concrete as I do a circle around the table, running my finger along the deeply defined grain of the wood. “It’s beautiful wood. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Reese, don’t . . .” he starts when my fingers run over a giant splotch, as if someone spilled something on the untreated wood and stained it. I look up to see the pained expression on Ben’s face.
“Come on. You’re my obnoxious, loud, insensitive Ben! I’m the melodramatic one.”
“I’m yours?” he repeats with an arched brow, though that teasing lilt is missing.
I gulp. “What’s wrong with this table?”
He strolls over, making a point of sidestepping an area on the floor instead of walking straight to me. “You remember what I told you about my dad and the things he did behind my mom’s back, right?”
I nod quietly.
Licking his lips, he studies the wood for another long moment. “Normally he’d stay away from the local bars. It’s a small town and people talk. Everyone’s up in everyone’s business. Well, one night he decided the local bar was good enough. The next morning, Mama started getting calls from friends. So-and-so’s brother-in-law or something saw him stumbling out with my football coach’s wife. I guess Coach was out of town.” Ben snorts as he shakes his hung head. “Mama was mortified. And not even for herself. She knew Coach would hear about it and she was afraid he’d take it out on me.
“When my dad pulled into the driveway that day, I guess she laid into him. Slapped him across the face. Well,” Ben grits his teeth, “he swung back. I came home a few hours later to find her hiding in her room with a broken nose and an ice pack. And when I found out what happened . . .” His mouth twists up. “I charged in here, ready to beat the hell out of him. He was already hitting the bottle again, working on that table. I was so angry, I ran at him. I shoved him. Hard.” Ben pauses to swallow, a hand running through his hair. “And then, I don’t really know how everything else happened. One second he was tumbling back, the next his arm was lying on the ground and there was blood everywhere. Jesus, Reese! The whiskey made it worse. It was pumping out of him like we were in a Quentin Tarantino movie.”
My stomach tightens with the visual he’s painting. I look at this table under a new light, seeing that stain for what it truly is.
“The idiot had removed the safety mechanisms off all the saws. Said they were a pain in the ass while he worked. He somehow hit the power switch when he fell.” Ben’s head is shaking. “I was pissed off but I never meant for that to happen, I swear. I called nine-one-one right away. He almost bled out on the way to the hospital. They weren’t able to reattach the arm.” He sighs heavily. “The one and only thing my dad was ever passionate about was carpentry. And with only one arm, he can’t do much. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything but sit in this barn and hate life.”
Ben’s hand lifts to run along a particularly dangerous-looking saw.
“Is that the one?”
His nod answers me. “He was always a cynical man. Never happy. Not one to spend much time with his kids. After the accident, he hit the bottle even harder and went into a deep depression. He hasn’t come out of it yet and he refuses to get help. He blames me for everything. For the accident, for my brothers and Elsie not coming around. But the reason none of my brothers and sister come here is because they hate his f**king guts for cheating on my mom and then hitting her. And for being a drunk. They’ve already said that they won’t step foot on this property while he’s here. And they’re angry with my mother for standing by him because she’s got it in her thick skull that this is the ‘for worse’ part of her marriage vows. Well, if you ask me, ‘worse’ is pretty damn bad.”
“Is she happy?”
“How can she be?” Bright blue eyes pierce me, his arms thrown up as if in surrender. “They sleep in separate rooms; he’s in here all day. He helps her with nothing. They live completely separately and because of him, she doesn’t get to see her kids or her grandkids. Is that what a marriage is?” He shakes his head. “And she wonders why I want nothing to do with it.”
I hazard a step forward to put a hand on his forearm. For reassurance, for comfort. For friendship.
“God.” Ben shakes his head, his nostrils flaring. “I still can’t stand the smell of cut wood. It makes me want to puke. And the sound of a saw cutting . . .” He squeezes his eyes shut as he shudders.
“Well then, come on.” I hook my arm through his and wait for those eyes to open and focus on me. I take slow steps backward, pulling him away from the dank barn and the sharp saws, the lingering memories. He lets me lead him out. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Chapter 28
BEN
“I thought she was die-hard Christian,” Reese whispers as I lead her into Elsie’s old room. The walls and curtains are still the same color—white and yellow—but all the boy band posters and cheerleading stuff that made it feel like my older sister’s room have long since been packed away.
“She is, but she’s also die-hard get-Ben-married,” I say with a chuckle, adding, “and you don’t have to whisper. Mama’s room is on the other side of the house, and a f**king jumbo jet crashing into the house wouldn’t wake my dad up once he’s out.”
I feel her come up behind me, wrapping her arms around my sides to clasp her hands on my chest. “So do you want a church wedding? Because I’m partial to eloping.”
“Uh . . .”
She snorts against my back. “Your heart is racing.”
Lifting an arm up and over, I pull her around and to my chest, just so I can make her tip her head back and look at me. I love her face angled up like this. “Funny.”
“I thought so.” Lifting onto her tiptoes, she lays a soft kiss on my lips. It catches me off guard, but not in a bad way. It’s just the first time she’s actually done that. I’m always the one stealing the kisses. It’s the second time today that she’s done it.
Peeling away from me, she slaps my ass. “Bathroom’s the third on the left?”
“Yeah.” I watch her sling her knapsack over her shoulder and step into the hall, smiling. When I hear the bathroom door click, I take the opportunity to make my way down the hall to Mama’s door to find her room empty. On a whim, I keep heading down the hall, rounding the corner quietly. I’ve snuck out of this place so many times, I still know how to avoid the loud creaks.
My father’s door sits open a crack, enough so that my mama’s voice carries out clearly.
“I’ve given you thirty-three years of my life, Joshua. I’ve hoped and prayed that you’d come back to me, that the young man I fell in love with, who gave me five beautiful children, was still somewhere in there. But . . .” I hear her ragged sob before she stifles it, pausing before speaking again. “But I know now that he’s gone for good, because the Joshua I fell in love with wouldn’t keep hurting his own child. Of all our children, Ben is the one who has reason not to come around again and yet he’s here.”
My dad’s rough voice pipes in then with, “Well, he feels guilty.”
“Maybe,” she admits through a sniff. “But it’s also because he loves fiercely. That boy has always had so much love to give and I’m afraid that after what he’s grown up with, he’s never going to give anyone a real chance. None of them will.”
“The others are fine.”
“The others are not fine, Joshua. Josh’s wife left him because he drinks too much and had an affair, and Elsie’s turned down that boy’s proposal twice because she doesn’t know how to trust a man. They just broke up for good this time. Jake doesn’t want to marry Rita, who’s carrying his child, because he’s afraid to jinx it.”
Shit, I didn’t know any of that.
Mama clears her throat. “I need to do what’s right for my children now. What I should have done years ago.” I hear the creak of my granddaddy’s rocking chair as Mama stands. “This ol’ house is falling apart, and it’s not because of loose shingles or leaking pipes or a crooked porch. It’s because it’s lost its family. It’s soul. And without it, there’s no point in any of it anymore.”
Not a word comes from my father. No argument, no pleading, no apologies. No excuses.
“The Cornells asked if we were interested in selling a while back. I’m going to see if they’re still interested.”
What? Sell? She just finished saying that she won’t sell!
Finally, my dad speaks up. “I thought you didn’t want to sell the grove, Wilma.”
“I don’t.” Her voice cracks. “But we can’t continue like this and I love my children too much not to make a change.” Much closer to the door, I hear her add, “You know, I learned to live with the whiskey, I even forgave you for all the women. I blamed myself for that, for not staying attractive enough to satisfy you.”
Hearing that, my teeth actually crack, they’re clenched so tight.
“But I can never forgive you for trying to kill that sparkle in my baby’s eyes. And I’ll never forgive myself for allowing this to go on for so long.”
The door opens and Mama steps out, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She sees me and immediately puts on a brave smile as she pulls the door behind her. It doesn’t hide her wobbling bottom lip.
“Mama, I’m fine. I can handle him. You’re not giving up your home—”
“Hush.” She reaches out and grabs my arms. She looks so damn small, but she has a fierce grip when she needs it. “I can do whatever I want. And you aren’t fine, Ben. When you trust yourself enough to let yourself experience the kind of joy that a good relationship can bring you, that’s when you’ll be fine.” With a pat on my shoulder, she turns and walks away.
I’m left standing outside of my father’s door.
And I hear the muffled sobs behind it.
“Your sister had a great view.” Reese’s back is to me, her silhouette—long, lean legs stretching out of little shorts and a plain T-shirt—as tempting as ever as she stands in front of the window. I smile to myself. This, here, is why I like her so much. She’s not trying too hard. Most girls would have packed some frilly black thing. Mercy would have been lying naked on the bed already. Not Reese, though. She doesn’t give a f**k. And the funny thing is, she’s even sexier because if it.
“She did,” I agree, coming behind her to rest my chin on her head as I look out over the darkness. It’s hard to see but with a full sky of stars, you can just make out the tops of the trees.
“There’s something really special about this place, isn’t there? I can feel it when I come here. It’s like all that shit out there isn’t happening. I can see why your mom doesn’t want to leave.”
“Yeah.” Except she does now. My wheels are churning, trying to figure out how she can stay while getting him away. Fuck.
Reese turns her body around until she’s facing me. “How’s Mama?”
Her calling my mother “Mama” makes me grin. “She thinks you’re a sweet girl.”