Fall



  Fall

  Danielle Broussard

  Published by Danielle Broussard

  Copyright 2014 Danielle Broussard

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 1

  “How is she doing?”

  “She seems to be alright, she’s not crying herself to sleep anymore.”

  “Good. Has he found her yet?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He was absolutely gorgeous. She wasn’t the only one who noticed the handsome stranger. She could hear a few of the older women sitting around her whispering about him. His blond hair was stunning and his icy blue eyes were heavenly. He sat only two pews in front of her. He exuded confidence and either didn’t notice the attention he was drawing or didn’t care; it was impossible to tell.

  “Please stand.”

  The pews creaked when the congregation did as the priest asked. She attended church every weekend, although more out of habit now. Her parents were devout Catholics and forced her to go to mass every weekend growing up. It was so engrained in her now that it felt wrong to miss.

  “Amen.”

  “And now we recite the Lord’s Prayer.”

  “Our Father…”

  She didn’t grow up in this small town. On the contrary, she moved frequently as a child. Her father was constantly being transferred and relocated for his job, so she had gotten used to being uprooted and having to make new friends. She’d been living there for several years now and had settled into a complacent rhythm. This was the town her father had grown up in. Most of the residents there knew her and her family a little too well.

  The pews creaked and groaned again when the congregation knelt in unison. The kneelers were horribly uncomfortable. They had padding on them but they were old, so it felt like kneeling on wood. Shifting, she rested her elbows on the top of the pew in front of her. Picking at her cuticles, she listened intently to the music as it started playing.

  The musicians were two young high school girls. She had that very job growing up. It was easy and paid well. She used to joke with her friends that if she had to attend mass every weekend she might as well get paid for it. That probably wasn’t the right attitude, in hindsight.

  Biting at her fingernails, she chewed off a small cuticle. Keeping the finger against her mouth, she sucked on the bit of blood at the base of her nail. Singing softly to the music, she stood and picked the kneeler up with her foot. Following the parishioners sitting in the pew next to her, she trudged towards the front of the church. The line moved slowly in rhythm to the music, grinding to a halt only when a small child or elderly person reached the Eucharistic ministers.

  Bowing slightly, she took another step, and then raised her hands, one on top of the other.

  “The body of Christ.”

  “Amen.”

  Side stepping, she placed the small wafer in her mouth and made the sign of the cross. No need to get the wine. There were too many people drinking from the same cup. She had no problem with sharing, just not germs.

  Turning the corner she rejoined the line to head back to her pew. Glancing at the musicians, her eyes caught his gaze when she looked back in front of her. They were so light in color, the palest blue she’d ever seen. They were heavenly yet eerily cold and foreboding. Her breath stood still and her heart raced. Her cheeks grew hotter with every step she took towards him. Finally breaking away, she stared at the linoleum floors. Trying to slow her breathing, she prayed that he didn’t see her blush.

  Once mass ended, the congregation progressed slowly outside. It was hard not feeling like cattle being herded while everyone trudged in a large group towards the covered area beyond the main doors. There the congregation lingered to say their ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes,’ and to do the polite small talk that takes place in all small towns. This was the part she hated the most and tried to avoid at all costs. Unfortunately, the slow moving crowd stalled by the doors, trapping her in the cluster.

  “Elizabeth! Elizabeth! Over here!”

  Looking between the shoulders and heads in front of her, she finally saw who was calling. The woman was waving wildly at her. It looked like she was trying to land a plane more than anything. Her arms swayed rigidly over her head, the underside swinging more than the rest. Pushing her way through the crowd, Elizabeth had to slide between several people to reach the older woman.

  Like most of the women here her age, she had short hair that was permed on top. She was dressed nicely. Bright colors in a bold print decorated her shirt, washing out her pale skin. A simple cross necklace hung around her neck and a gold watch was wrapped around her wrist, pinching the area between her hand and forearm.

  “Mrs. Trahan, how are you doing?”

  Grabbing Elizabeth, the old woman pulled her in for a long hug. Taking a breath, a flowery perfume invaded Elizabeth’s nostrils. Breathing out, she held her breath until the hug was over and she could take a few steps back.

  “I’m just fine, dear. How are you holding up? In that big house all by yourself it’s just awful, isn’t it, Darrel?”

  Darrel was looking around absently, staring at the trees, the sky anything except his wife. He was a small man in both frame and stature, and taking a hand out of his pocket, he scratched his balding head gently. He was careful not to disturb the hair he had meticulously combed over. He didn’t have much hair left, but what he did have, he took great pride in, including the pristinely manicured mustache that sat beneath his broad nose.

  “The yard is too big,” Mrs. Trahan said. “How do you find time to do everything? I can hardly imagine. Then Doreen told me she saw the electricians there during the week. Are you having major problems?”

  Shaking her head, Elizabeth stopped watching Darrel. “No, ma’am. Everything’s fine. I’m just having the wiring updated.”

  “Oh my, that sounds so expensive. How will you afford something like that?”

  “It’s fine,” Elizabeth said. “My parents left me more than enough, and I plan on doing most of the other work myself.”

  “Well, God bless them. If you need anything, anything at all, you just come to us, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

  Looking around, Mrs. Trahan finally noticed that her husband was no longer there. He had walked off, wandering slowly towards their car in the parking lot. Thinking she had seen her chance to escape, Elizabeth took a step towards the cars, but didn’t make it in time. A wrinkled hand grabbed her arm, pulling her close to the old woman’s face again. Instantly the offensive, flowery-sweet perfume swarmed her nostrils. Flinching unintentionally, Elizabeth held her breath to prevent the onslaught.

  Noticing her reaction, the old woman released her arm, assuming that was the source of her discomfort. “Who do you think that young man over there is?”
>
  Scanning the remaining parishioners, Elizabeth tried to see who she was pointing at. She should have known without looking. There was only one unfamiliar face at mass today. Sure enough, standing next to the priest was the handsome stranger. He was smiling at something, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. He looked like he belonged on a teeth whitening ad or on the cover of a magazine, not here in this podunk town.

  Sensing someone watching him, the man glanced over at Elizabeth, locking eyes with her again. Looking away quickly, she turned her attention back to the woman standing next to her.

  “I’m not sure,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Me neither,” Mrs. Trahan said, pulling at the bottom of her shirt. Running her hands over the front of her blouse, she tried to iron out the wrinkles. “He’s so handsome, like one of those actors on the TV or on the movies.”

  Nodding, Elizabeth agreed. “Yes, ma’am. I suppose he could be.”

  “Now what do you suppose a man like that is doing down here?”

  Shrugging her shoulders, Elizabeth said, “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him?”

  Beaming, her posture instantly straightened, “I think I will.”

  Without hesitation, the woman left Elizabeth’s side and sauntered up to the man and the priest. Smiling, Elizabeth had to hold back her laughter. Mrs. Trahan was so confident and sure of herself, yet completely unaware of how tactless she really was. Elizabeth usually tried to make a point of leaving the church quickly to avoid such conversations. It was always the same thing:

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “How will a girl like you manage?”

  She was tired of the empathy and of people tip-toeing around her.

  Meandering over to her car, she took her time going home. It wasn’t a long drive, only ten minutes at most. The old, rutted highway was lined with cane fields that made her car vibrate, which made singing in the car a bit of a challenge. That didn’t stop her, though, and she sang the whole way home, belting the words at the top of her lungs. Pulling off the highway, she turned onto a secluded country road. Ancient oak trees loomed over the dark pavement, shading the street from the sun. The houses there were far and few between. Several acres separated the structures from each other, which was just the way she liked it.

  Turning onto a gravel driveway, she pulled up to a large house. The paint was peeling off the old siding and the roof needed replacing, but it was home. Her parents had bought the house and had it moved onto the property roughly a year earlier. They had planned on renovating the old structure, but were never able to start.

  It sat on roughly nine acres and was surrounded by an assortment of large trees. The yard alone was a pain to keep up, especially in the summer months, and the house took up any free time she had. It was a complete fixer-upper, but she was up for the challenge.

  Unlocking the door, she had to push on it to get it to open. It had started sticking only recently. She was pretty sure it was due to the heat. That was just one more thing she’d have to fix. The electricians were gone for the day but they left a mess in their wake. Dust, dirt, and bits of wire and rubber littered the floors. The worn hardwood was barely visible under the mess. Taking a step into the house she let out a long sigh. With every step a small cloud of dust plumed up from the floor, coving her shoes in a light coating of gray. It was like living in a construction zone. All of the walls had been ripped down so the plumbing and wiring could be updated. The bare studs were cold and uninviting, but it needed to be done.

  Trudging up the stairs, she dropped her purse on a small table. She had every intention of going to bed early, but she paused when she saw the red light blinking on the answering machine. Pushing play, she listened to the message.

  “Hey Liz, we’re all goin’ out tonight. That new band is playin’ at the club and we’re all gonna go see. You should come. See you at nine.”

  Claire never left her name, but she didn’t need to. Elizabeth always knew when it was her. Deleting the message, she contemplated her options. She had wiggled out of Claire’s last two invites, so she was kind of obligated to go this time.

  Walking into her make-shift kitchen, she pulled a few pieces of left-over pizza out of a small refrigerator. The room was intended to be a bedroom, but to save money she opted to live upstairs while the downstairs was being renovated. For now, one of the bedrooms acted as a kitchen, while another she had set up as a living room. She was occupying the largest room upstairs and there was one more room that was currently empty. It worked well enough, especially since she lived alone.

  She didn’t particularly enjoy going out. It was more trouble than it was worth. Rummaging through her closet, she changed into a tank top and a pair of jeans. Taking a quick peek in the bathroom mirror, she ran the straightener through her hair one more time, flattening any stray hairs. The humidity in Louisiana could be killer, and she unfortunately had curly hair. It took an ungodly amount of products to keep her hair straight, but it was worth the effort.

  Slipping on a pair of heels, she walked back to her purse and grabbed a few twenties out of it. Stuffing the money into a spare wallet, she slid it into a back pocket and grabbed her keys. Jogging down the stairs, she stopped when she saw the bottom storey. She had a lot of work to do tomorrow. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she thought about calling Claire and asking for a rain check. She was already dressed, though, and it had been a while since she’d been out, so going against her better judgment, she walked out the door and headed for the club.

  Chapter 2