Page 9 of The Way We Fell

“What the hell are you doing here?” My sister yanks the door open, a tea towel slung over her shoulder, and pulls me into a hug. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.”

“Yeah, just… thought I’d stop in and say hi.” Like I wasn’t here for dinner last night.

Familiar eyes search my face, her expression telling me quite plainly that she’s not convinced by my story. I don’t blame her. It’s a shitty lie, and she’s always been able to see right through me. Thankfully, she doesn’t press any further. She takes my arm and pulls me into her home, shoving me out of the hallway toward the open-plan living space. I peek through the door and see the backs of two heads on the sofa, one blonde, one dark. A loud, girlish giggle rings through the room, and a blue stuffed dinosaur appears over the top of the furniture before falling out of view.

“Look who’s here,” Ruth sings. “Jay, this is my goddaughter, Maisy. Amie’s daughter.”

“She’s my goddaughter too,” Katy protests with a grin, reaching out for the little girl.

“Who’s here, Aunty Roo?” A small voice—the same one responsible for the squeals of laughter—comes from under the coffee table. A little head full of curly hair pops up as I approach the back of the sofa. She has bright, leaf-green eyes and a mischievous smile; she looks a lot like Cam.

“Come here, Maisy Mouse.” I recognise that voice. The two heads on the sofa turn to me at the same time. Amie and Katy offer matching smiles as Amie straightens the floppy yellow bow in Maisy’s hair. “Mae, this is Aunty Roo’s big brother. Can you say hello?”

“Hello! You play dinosaurs?”

Katy chuckles, and Ruth nudges me with an elbow, urging me further into the room.

“I can play dinosaurs,” I agree with a nod. Gingerly, I lower myself to the edge of the sofa, stretching out my right leg in front of me with a heavy exhale. “How do we play?”

Maisy squeaks with excitement, clutching the stuffed toy before opening her mouth and roaring. She’s remarkably loud for someone so small, and I try not to grimace as the sound quickly becomes shrill and rings in my ears.

“Okay, Maisy Pop, why don’t we play quiet dinosaurs?” Katy grabs the small girl around the waist and pulls her into her lap. She tickles her belly lightly and kisses her hair. It’s sweet, the way my sister and her friends are so close, the way they all love Amie’s daughter so much. It’s the kind of chosen family I had once. The kind I’d do anything for, who’d do anything for me. The kind I miss so fiercely when I sit at home alone. The kind I’m afraid I might never find anywhere again.

It frightens me, the thought of getting close to someone again, knowing how easy it would be to lose them in an instant. But the sliver of warmth that blooms in my chest when Amie grins at me, and the electricity that zaps across my skin when Katy’s bare arm makes incidental contact with mine have me wondering if letting myselffeelsomething again might not be so bad.

“Planes? Aunty K, you play planes with me?”

“I’ll play planes with you,” I offer. The girl cheers and wriggles out of Katy’s grasp, slapping her socked feet down onto the laminate flooring and padding over to me. She drags a yellow backpack out from under the coffee table and dumps its contents on the floor at my feet. I’m surrounded by diecast models of planes, dinosaur figurines, and a couple of cars and trucks. One or two of them look familiar, like they might have come from mine or Ruth’s childhood toy collections at some point.

I pick up an old, paint-chipped car and turn it over in my hands.There it is.A small, almost completely worn splodge of silver nail polish marks the plastic underbody. Mum’s way of distinguishing between my toys and Ruth’s when I was a territorial pre-teen too attached to let go, and Ruth was a needy, jealous toddler. Katy looks at me, lips pressed into a curious half-smile.

“These are my planes,” Maisy announces with a somber expression, distracting me from my thoughts. “Daddy make real planes fly!”

“Oh, he does? That’s pretty cool.” I remember chatting with Cam about his job, among other things. He seems pretty cool, too. We like the same music, and we definitely bonded over our love of classic American muscle cars. I think we’ll get along just fine. I even found myself looking forward to hanging out with him again—a foreign feeling, something I haven’t felt for a while. It’s been a long time since I’ve had friends—at least, ones who weren’t at immediate risk of losing an arm or a leg or a life.

Maisy nods seriously. “He not here. He flying.”

I glance up at Katy, who is resting a hand on Amie’s arm. Amie’s eyes are glossy as she watches her daughter with a soft, sad smile.

“He flies out of San Francisco for now but he’s moving bases soon,” Katy explains quietly. “He’s manipulated his schedule pretty well, he’s home for two weeks—but that means he’s away for two weeks at a time, too.”

“She misses him,” Amie murmurs. I see Katy’s fingers tighten on Amie’s arm as she presses herself closer to her friend. I pick up a plane and roll it along the floor towards Maisy, who giggles, her sadness all but forgotten already.

“S’hard being away so much,” I agree quietly, following it up with a sigh. “You miss a lot.”

Amie offers a tight smile. The tension is broken when Ruth whips the kitchen countertop with the tea towel from her shoulder and calls across to us.

“You staying for Fancy Nugs Night, Bro?”

“What the fu—” I glance at Maisy, and then at Amie and Katy. “What in the world areFancy Nugs?”

“Roo makes homemade nuggets,” Amie supplies, a dreamy, lovesick smile curling her lips, contrasting the wistful one from a moment earlier. “They’re the best. I keep asking for the recipe but she won’t give it up.”

“Selfish hoe,” Katy adds under her breath.

Oh, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what those homemade nuggets are, and they’re a childhood favourite—a staple in the Bevan household. I don’t think I’ve eaten them since the last time I returned from Afghanistan, and I’m practically salivating at the thought.

“Yeah, she’s not giving that one up. If you’re making Granny Bevan’s Friday Chicky Bits, Rooey, I’m in.”

---