falling together_chapter one

8/4/2019 Falling Together_Chapter One

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Excerpt from Falling Together by Marisa de los Santos

Pen would not use the word summonedwhen she told Jamie about the emaillater that night. Additionally, she would not say that the email dropped like abowling ball into the pit of her stomach, and at the same time fell over herlike a shining wave, sending arcs of sea spray up to flash in the sun, even

though that is precisely how it felt.

Across from Jamie at dinner, forkful of rabbit halfway to her mouth, Pen wouldcock an eyebrow, cop a dry tone, and say, Leave it to me to get the email ofmy life while wedged between Self-Help and True Crime, listening to EleanorRex, M.D. recount her career as a paid dominatrix.

The truth is that Pen was not giving Dr. Rex her full attention, even thoughshe should have been. She liked Eleanor. She liked her Louise Brooks bob,her large, smoky laugh, and her impeccable manners. In the nine hours shehad spent driving Eleanor around to radio interviews, stock signings, and anappearance at an upscale but vampire-den-looking private club calledMarquis, Pen had come to view the dominatrix gig--no sex but a lot of meantalk and costumes--as an utterly valid and even sort of nifty way to putoneself through medical school. Even if she hadnt, she should have beenlistening. As a general rule, she listened to all of her authors. It was part ofthe job.

But this evening, Pen was unusually tired. She stood with her head tilted backagainst the bookstore wall, her ears only half hearing a description of how tosingle-handedly lace oneself into a leather corset (Theres an implementinvolved, she told Jamie later. There always is, he said.), her eyes only halfseeing the otherwise lovely stores horrible ceiling, paste-gray and pocked asthe moon, while the weary rest of her began to fold itself up and give into itsown weight like a bat at dawn.

Yesterday, Pens daughter Augusta had come home from school with a latespring cold, and Pen had recognized, her heart sinking, that they were in for arocky ride. Augustas sleep, disordered in the best of circumstances, could betipped over the edge and into chaos by any little thing. To make mattersworse, it was her first illness since Pen had purged their apartment ofchildrens cold medicine following newly issued, scarily worded warnings thatit might be harmful to kids under the age of six. When Jamie got home at2:00 AM, he had found Augusta cocooned in a quilt on the sofa, wide awake,coughing noisily but decorously into the crook of her arm the way she hadbeen taught to do in school, and a pale, wild-haired Pen staring into themedicine cabinet like a woman staring into the abyss.

I hate the FDA, Pen had spat viciously. And dont tell me I dont.

I would never tell you that, said Jamie, backing up. Noooo way.

In the bookstore, Eleanors voice grew fainter and fainter, and Pen was socompletely on the verge of sliding down the wall and curling up on the


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hardwood floor that she was planning ithow she would tuck her kneesunder her skirt, rest her head on a very large paperback book, possibly somesort of manualwhen she felt her phone vibrate against her rib cage. Jamie,a sucker for gadgets, had given her the phone just a few days earlierasmartphone hed called itand he had since realized what Pen had knownthe second hed handed it to her; that it was far, far smarter than she

required or deserved.

A hummingbird, Pen marveled through her sleep fog, in my purse.

A second later, she thought,Augusta, and then, Oh no,and her heart beganto do a hummingbird thrum of its own.Generally, Pens girl was as healthy asa horse, and her cold had been of the messy but aimless variety. Butanything could happen. A couple of months ago, Pen had sent Augusta to herfathers house for the weekend and, apparently seconds after Augusta hadstepped over his threshold, her flimsy sore throat had flared like a brush fireinto a serious case of strep.

Pustules all over her tonsils, his wife, Tanya, had hissed. Pustules.Everywhere! And you never noticed? Ive got news for you, lady: strep canturn into rheumatic fever. Just. Like. That.

Anything could happen with children. No one had to tell Pen this. Anythingcould happen with anything. Pen didnt even bother to check the messagebefore she was punching in her home phone number and snaking her waythrough the small crowd of people who had gathered at the back of the storeto hear Eleanor. In every bookstore audience, there were those who stood onthe fringes instead of taking a seat, even when seats were plentiful, folks Pencalled lurkers. Usually, this label was both unkind and unjust, simplesnideness on her part, but in the case of Eleanors lurkers, perhaps not so

much.

One ring and Jamie picked up.

Jamie, Pen whispered frantically into the phone. What? Fever? Pustules?What? Just tell me.

You, Jamie told her calmly, are insane.

Pen breathed, and her eyes filled with tears of relief. She swiped at them withher finger.

Well, you called, she said, clearing her throat. Naturally, I was worried.

I called? There was a brief pause and then Jamie said, You didnt check thevoicemail, did you? You didnt even check the numberof the person calling,even though it was right there on the screen. Just hauled off and called me ina panic like a crazy person.

All true, but Pen was not going to say that to Jamie, so instead she said, Not


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that many people have this number, Jamie. Its new, remember? You andAmelie and Patrick and Mom and Augustas school. The school is closed;Moms in Tibet or wherever the hell; Patrick never calls in the evenings; and I

just talked to Amelie twenty minutes ago. That leaves you.

There was a small silence as Jamie considered this, then he said, a sly note

sliding into his voice, Let me ask you this.

No, Pen said. Whatever it is, no.

Did your phone even ring?

It didnt ring, Pen corrected. Im in a bookstore. It whirred.

Repeatedly? Or once? One long whir?

Who knows? Couldve been one whir. Maybe. So what? She gave her phonean accusatory look.

Jamie groaned. Email. He enunciated the word as though it were composedof three distinct syllables. Didnt we go over this? Check your email,Penelope. Were fine. Augustas fine. No fever and she ate like a champ. Wehad a long, and Im talking about crazy-long, dance contest, and then sheconked.

Pen swiped at her eyes again. Oh. Well, thanks. Sorry.

Quietly, Jamie said, The world doesnt spin out of control the second youturn your back, Pen.

Oh, yes it does. Thats exactly what it does. You know that as well as I do.Pen thought this, but she didnt say it.

Jamie sighed. Listen, if she busts out in pustules, I promise youll be the firstto know.

After she hung up, Pen almost didnt check her email. She glared at herphone and stuffed it into her handbag. Contrary to what Jamie probablythought, she knew how to check it, but anyone who needed urgently to reachher would call, and the mere thought of pecking out an answer on thephones microscopic keyboard made her fingers inflate to the size of baseballbats. Besides, she needed to get back to Eleanor.

Pen was walking toward the rows of chairs when she heard someone ask, SoI know youre, like, retired? But do you ever, you know, make an exception ifthe guys, like, really special? Like really cool or whatever? The personsvoice had an unfinished, squawking quality: a boy, about twelve years old,thirteen at the outside. He was talking to Eleanor. Pen winced, stopped in hertracks, and there, in the heart of the Animals and Pet Care section, shechecked her email. The new one was from Glad2behere, an unfamiliar


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moniker but one that struck Pen as cheerful. Good for you, she thought.

Dear Pen,I know its been forever, but I need you. Please come to the reunion. Illfind you there. Im sorry for everything.Love,

Cat

Pen did not draw a blank or have a moment of confusion or have to read themessage twice. She didnt think, Cat who? There was only one Cat. What shedid was sit down on the floor between the shelves of books, shut her eyes,and press the cell phone to her sternum, against her galloping heart. Out ofthe blue sky and after more than six years of waitingbecause no matterhow hard she had tried not to wait, that is exactly what shed been doingPen had been summoned. As soon as the merry-go-round inside her headslowed its whirling and jangling enough for her to think anything, shethought, Oh, Cat, followed by, Finally.

falling together_chapter one

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