For All the Evers

  “Yeah, just making things clean.” Fallen shuffled her knees backward off the bed and dragged her skirt down.

  “You really love this room, huh?” Mr. Orbit ran a finger across the dresser.

  He was dressed down for once—jeans and a white sweater. He looked younger.

  Fallen straightened the comforter rather than answer.

  “No answer? That’s okay. Desta isn’t responding anymore, either. But before she stopped communicating, she asked to see you. I’m here to give you a ride.”

  Fallen nodded, gathering up her cleaning tools and looking over the room. As she tried to inch past him to put her tools on the cart, he captured her by the shoulders.

  “Can you look at me?”

  It took a minute to summon her courage and remember she needed to obey in this case. She preferred ignoring the connections he thought they had.

  “You’re very pretty. Did you know that?” His steely eyes combed her face like he owned the deed to it.

  “I don’t have a lot of time to think about that. I’m busy trying to survive.” She bit off her words.

  Orbit nodded as if he understood before lifting a knowing eyebrow. “I could make your life much easier.”

  “I’m not sure that’s how things work, Mr. Orbit. I may be struggling, but I’m in charge of my own life.”

  “Are you? You able to give that talented brother everything he needs to succeed?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Struggling and succeeding are two very different lifestyles, Fallen.”

  It was tight wire to walk. Was Mr. Orbit able to remember what happened in the dreams? He had to, didn’t he? Yet he never acknowledged a thing… What was he planning?

  “What time do visiting hours end?” Fallen stepped to her right until he let her shoulder go.

  He sighed. “We can get in at any time. This is goodbye now.”

  Fallen took the opportunity to prop open the room door with her cart before she straightened it. She wanted no opportunity for Mr. Orbit to take another picture while she bent over.

  “It’s so sudden.” Fallen took one last glance around the room and saw a few more things she would have liked to straighten, but she would have had to walk past Mr. Orbit to do it, so she decided to leave them be.

  “She’s been sick a long time—just good at denial. I’ll miss her terribly.”

  She waited for him to leave the room with her, but he turned and faced the view out of 514’s expansive windows.

  Fallen sorted her cart again. She didn’t want to close the door. She associated this room with Thomas, and having Orbit inside seemed like a desecration. He suddenly seemed to think there was time to waste, but Fallen was worried about getting to Desta before it was too late. She needed to tell her Burt loved her.

  “I hate this room,” Mr. Orbit said suddenly. “It’s come between me and everything I’ve ever loved.”

  Fallen cleared her throat.

  “I’ve often thought of burning it down. Wouldn’t that be the most freeing thing?” He peeked over his shoulder, but seemed to look right through her.

  “Love perseveres. Even if you burn it to the ground.” Fallen watched his eyes focus on her again like he’d just remembered she was there.

  “Yes. I’m sure it does.” He brushed off his jeans like he’d gotten them dirty. “Shall we go?”

  Fallen pushed the cart out of the room and felt relief when he stepped into the hall with her.

  Just then the birdcage stopped at her floor with 8 and 9 inside.

  Fallen pointed to the women and told Mr. Orbit. “I’ve already made plans to go to the hospital with these ladies. Are you going now? I’ll see you there.”

  She walked quickly toward the other maids and heard him huff behind her.

  “Yeah. I’ll see you there.”

  Fallen couldn’t believe her luck—until she saw him re-enter 514 as the door closed to the birdcage.

  The ride down the elevator with 8 and 9 was awkward, but at least neither of them would try for a kiss.

  “Are you with him or what?” 8 asked. She kept her eyes forward when Fallen looked over.

  “No. He just expects stuff from me, and tries to make it look that way sometimes. It’s very confusing. Not sure how it got to be this way.” Fallen grabbed her cart’s handle so hard she could see her white knuckles.

  9 nodded. “You’re not the first. You might not be the last. That man? He’s crazy. Like, he seems normal, and a little hot, right? At first. Then you realize his train doesn’t pull all the way in to the station.”

  Fallen bit back her smile.

  “I see you, girl. You’re laughing. It’s okay. We’ll keep an eye on you. Desta fancied you.”

  9 patted Fallen’s shoulder, and she let her smile come through.

  “Desta also fancied Orbit, so there’s that.” 8 gave Fallen a look that told her the jury was still out, as far as she was concerned.

  Downstairs they settled themselves into 8’s car, which she drove like a maniac. Fallen’s heart was racing by the time they parked in the parking lot at the hospital. Fallen thanked them for the ride but explained that she’d get home on her own. She encouraged them to go ahead to see Desta without her.

  Fallen wanted to say goodbye to Desta alone. She went to the gift shop and looked around. The flowers there were pretty but wildly expensive. It seemed pointless, too. Mr. Orbit had said Desta wasn’t communicating anymore.

  She’d read that hearing was the last sense to go. She hoped Desta would still hear her when she said goodbye.

  Fallen decided against a present and was headed out of the store when she ran into 8 and 9.

  “We’re all done. Be prepared, though. It’s sad.” 9 gave Fallen a tissue from the pack she’d been using.

  Fallen took it with thanks and used her time getting up to Desta’s hospital room to try to control her emotions. She’d never been at someone’s deathbed. Watching her own mother kill herself with alcohol didn’t count. That was a slow progression.

  But lung cancer was vicious. That a woman who’d had opinions and a sense of humor and a light in her eyes with love in her heart could be reduced to…

  Fallen opened the door, and there was a silence. A desperate wait. It was hard to find Desta through the tubes and various devices helping her. She was barely in this life anymore. A nurse sat in the armchair.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  Fallen felt like they should be whispering, as if they were in church or at a funeral.

  “Fallen.”

  “Thank goodness. She wanted to see you. I’m going to step out to give you privacy, but this button here?” She showed Fallen a red button on a clicker that Desta was clearly not pressing anymore. “It’ll alert me.”

  “Okay.”

  Fallen’s unease must have been visible because the nurse smiled. “Just talk for a little bit. Tell you’re here.”

  With that, the nurse left the room, leaving the door open.

  Desta was such a cougher; it was crazy to be in a silent room with her.

  Fallen sat in the chair.

  “I’m here, Desta. It’s me, Fallen.”

  She looked at the woman’s pale face. The connection that made falling in love with a dream guy seem sane was fading away. She chided herself for selfish thinking at Desta’s darkest hour.

  “Last night was Thursday. And it was a great dream,” Fallen told her. “I know Burt loves you.”

  Fallen wondered if she was laying it on too thick; her time with him had been so brief in past dreams.

  “I made sure to tell him how good you looked, and that you had saved a place for him in your life here. He said he loves you very much.”

  Fallen looked from her hand on top of Desta’s wrist to the woman’s face and saw her eyes fluttering open.

  “Hi. Yeah. It’s me. Burt loves you. And when you leave this life, I think you get to stay on the dream side. That’s what I think.”

  Desta’s eyes were bloods
hot, but Fallen could swore they focused on her. Fallen filled the moment with words.

  “And I think Lad’s going to be okay. You saved him too, Desta. You did good work. It’s all fixed.”

  Fallen patted her hand again and maintained the eye contact. She might have been imagining it, but she thought Desta had nodded a little bit.

  Desta exhaled loudly into the mask and closed her eyes, resuming her shallow breathing. Fallen wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry, but she worried Desta might open her eyes again. She stood to leave quickly, pressing the nurse’s button on her way out.

  When she stepped into the hallway, Mr. Orbit was leaning against the wall. He was easily within earshot of the whole one-sided conversation she’d just had with Desta.

  The nurse patted Fallen’s arm on her way back in to sit.

  Mr. Orbit looked devastated. Fallen didn’t know what to say—or if she should say anything.

  “She really loved me,” he mumbled.

  Fallen nodded as he shook his head. “You should get in there and sit with her.”

  His shoulders dropped as he did as he was told.

  Fallen hurried to the elevator. She had no idea what grief would do to him. Would his grip on reality slide even further when Desta passed away? Would he be more grounded or more obsessed?

  She waited outside for the next bus and was thankful when it arrived before Mr. Orbit came out to leave.

  ···

  When she got in on Friday night, she was by herself at home for a few hours before Fenn returned from his game. They’d traveled to Purdys, and she just didn’t have the energy to get there this time. White Plains had lost, and Fenn hadn’t loved how he played, he told her. After getting all the what-ifs out, he gave her an update on Adelaide.

  “There were a lot of cars in her driveway today after school,” he said. “I hope she’s okay.”

  Fallen quizzed him a little on exactly what he’d seen before he headed up to bed, and she decided to show up for her normal cleaning time after work on Saturday to see if she could catch anyone at the house who might be able to tell her what was happening.

  Fallen traced Thomas’ name on her arm, thinking about what she’d told Desta—wishing it was true. She wished she and Desta had an entire afterlife to devote to the men of their dreams, but there was no way of knowing whether that was true. Better to focus on this life anyway. She had to warn Thomas somehow. Change the course of his days. She traced the ink again. Maybe, just maybe she could still save him.

  ···

  Fallen left a sleeping Fenn behind as she headed to the hotel for work Saturday morning, and after a busy day—at least the time moved quickly on Saturday—she bundled up to stop by Adelaide’s house on the way home.

  When she got there, she recognized Marquette’s car. And her soft knock on the front door was answered by Adelaide herself. She seemed very excited to see Fallen, but kept referring to her as “sweetheart” instead of using her name as she took her jacket and hung it in the closet.

  Marquette was on her cell phone, rubbing her temple. “Well, until I find out what I’ve got going on here, I have no idea how long it will take me to get her set.”

  Adelaide went to the cabinet, but seemed confused when the stove wouldn’t turn on as she tried to heat the kettle.

  “It’s okay,” Fallen called. “I don’t need a drink. Did you want one?”

  “Oh no, sweetheart. I’m just happy to see you. I wasn’t sure what had changed. You were coming around a lot… Anyway, now it’s nice to see you.” Adelaide motioned to the kitchen table and paused to stare at her daughter for a moment before returning to the task of sitting and visiting with Fallen.

  While she made small talk with Adelaide, Fallen overheard Marquette talking about the things in the house and how they were going to have to get a junk man out to dispose of almost all of it.

  Adelaide winced when she heard the word junk again and dropped her voice to whisper her suspicions to Fallen. “I think they’re putting me in a home for old people. That’s what she’s going on about.”

  Fallen reached across the table and covered Adelaide’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

  Adelaide shrugged. “We all have our time. I’ll miss this place.” She looked around and teared up a little. When Marquette ended the call, Adelaide visibly stiffened.

  “Did you come to help?” Marquette spoke to Fallen as she entered the room. She didn’t sound aggressive, just interested.

  “It’s my usual day, and I like your mother. She’s good company.” Fallen smiled at her.

  Marquette looked back at Adelaide and her face softened. “Yes. That she is. Can I speak to you outside for a sec?”

  They left Adelaide sitting at her table and stepped onto the porch.

  “I’m sorry I accused you last time. And I’m sorry we disappeared. I needed some time with Mom to really assess what’s going to change in our lives. It’s hard to accept, for me as well as her, that the time has come to let go of her independence. But it has. And in light of that, I have a favor to ask.” Marquette shivered.

  They’d left the house without putting on their jackets.

  Fallen nodded, waiting. In the back of her mind, or maybe the front, all she wanted was more time with the picture of Thomas.

  And more information.

  Marquette offered a possibility with her suggestion. “Can you stay here with her for a little while? I have to call a few junk removal places and get her some good suitcases for the move to assisted living.

  Fallen agreed immediately, but felt bad that this step for Adelaide would be what gave her an opportunity to get back to the thing she desperately wanted. When they went inside, Adelaide had gotten up from the table and was standing in the living room.

  “Don’t worry about cleaning; just enjoy the time together.” Marquette seemed relieved to scurry out of the house as soon as she had her jacket on.

  Fallen pointed to the stack of photo albums that were now sitting off to the side of the couch.

  “How about we look at these?” Fallen grabbed the one she was desperate for.

  “Oh, sure, sweetheart. My second husband always told me to look at the pictures to help me with my memory.”

  She tapped her temple with a fragile finger and sat on the couch. Fallen sat down next to her, flipping through the pictures until she found Thomas’ again. Thankfully, the loose picture had stayed in the album.

  Adelaide took the picture from Fallen’s hands and smiled. “This was my first husband’s brother Thomas. They looked a lot alike.”

  Fallen held her breath. Information. It was a lifesaver to her drowning hope.

  She exhaled as she asked, “You know him?”

  “Oh, no. He was killed in action two years before I met my Eddie. He and Johnny were still so devastated. We lost many boys over there, though.”

  Fallen knew as much from the dates on the back of the picture. But hearing it confirmed, it felt like her heart had stopped beating.

  Fallen opened her eyes to see more Thomas—pages of pictures. Adelaide was explaining how the brothers grew up with their mom after the death of their father.

  Fallen nodded. She already knew. She’d heard it from the man himself while she was in his arms.

  Her eyes roamed the pages: Thomas with his brothers, all three in swimsuits. Thomas by himself, standing like Superman, looking into the distance. No tattoo on his arm. No sign that what she’d done in her dreams had occurred in his reality.

  Adelaide interrupted Fallen’s thoughts. “This was three years into their service. All three of them. Last time all three were together as well.”

  It was crushing to see that moment captured on film. She touched the picture through the crinkly, clear protector.

  Adelaide thought for a moment. “You know? Help me with this, will you? I’ve got a box Eddie kept over there in that wicker chest.”

  Fallen’s hands shook, but she set the photo album on the coffee table in front of her, despe
rate to see more.

  She helped Adelaide move two large afghans to the floor and watched as she opened the wicker chest. It had been in this house every time Fallen had been here, and she hadn’t known.

  Adelaide lifted out a photo box with Thomas written in all caps across the top. It wasn’t heavy, but Fallen carried it back to the couch for Adelaide.

  She wiggled the tight-fitting top off, and inside was a treasure trove: letters from Thomas to his mother, to his brothers. Right off the bat she saw the cartoons he’d drawn on the front—his way of making fun of his brothers from a distance. Yellowed papers, a few more pictures. Then something that made Fallen’s tears flow freely—a beautifully framed Purple Heart.

  She lifted it out of the box and wiped her hand over the glass.

  Thomas F. McHugh

  Killed in Action

  May 7, 1945

  Adelaide was still sifting through letters while Fallen’s world imploded. She’d wanted more details, yet having them felt awful. She would have just dissolved on the couch, but Adelaide said, “Your name is Fallen, isn’t it?”

  Fallen managed to nod.

  “It’s all over these letters. Of course! I’m sorry I had forgotten for a moment. Isn’t this the craziest thing? All these drawings Thomas sent to Eddie—they look just like you, the spitting image actually.”

  Fallen saw his handwriting, the signature she wore on her arm, at the bottom of two letters she could see, and an impeccable drawing of her face from two nights ago. There was even a movie screen behind her.

  “Oh my God. He’s real. He was here. It happened.”

  Adelaide touched her on the shoulder. “Are you okay, sweetheart? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Not a ghost... It’s just—I’m Fallen. I’m the girl from that picture.”

  Adelaide eyes went a little unfocused before she nodded. “Okay. You’re Fallen? And you’re dating Thomas? I’m so sorry he’s passed. Are you just finding out now?”

  And Fallen wondered if she had moved into some alternate dimension. That this woman could so clearly understand her dilemma was astounding. She should have really opened up to her weeks ago.

  But then Adelaide continued, and Fallen realized what had happened.