The Fall Risk: A Short Story

Ground control to Tower,” Gabe said when I answered the phone. “I’ve got the thing.”

I came out to the landing. Izzy and Gabe were both down there. She was wearing his Level 7 Fireball shirt, knotted at the waist. Gabe had a hickey.

“I picked up some stuff to make mimosas,” Izzy said as I lowered the bucket. “She’ll like it.”

“Thanks.”

I brought up three buckets worth of precious cargo.

“Let us know if you need anything else,” Gabe said after the last bucket made it to the landing.

“Will do.”

He turned to Izzy. “Hey, you wanna go get boba?”

“I need two hundred dollars,” she said.

He pulled his face back. “For boba?”

“No. For me. For stuff.”

“Two hundred bucks?”

“Yes.”

He pulled out his phone. “Is Venmo okay—”

“What are you doing?” she said, incredulous.

He looked up at her, confused. “I’m sending you money—”

“Put that away.”

“Why? I thought—”

“Put it away, Gabe!”

She stomped off.

He blinked after her. “Is Zelle better?”

“No!” She spun on him. “You’re supposed to be turned off by that!”

“By what? You needing two hundred dollars?”

She threw up her hands. “By me needing anything! By me asking for help or wanting to rely on you. That’s what men do, they run when you need them.”

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna run. Why would I run? I like that you need something, it gives me something to do for you.” He looked at her earnestly. “I like doing things for you.”

She stared at him.

Then she marched back over, muttered, “Fuck patterns,” and threw her arms around him and kissed him. He looked stunned for a split second, then he kissed her back. Really kissed her back. They were full-on making out on the lawn.

They were a very, very odd couple.

It was Sunday. Valentine’s Day.

I’d never cared for this holiday. It always seemed like an excuse to spend money. Today it felt like an excuse to make Charlotte smile, which meant I was now a fan.

I got to setting everything up. Ordered breakfast for us, put the champagne and orange juice Izzy brought on ice. Then I texted Charlotte and told her to come out. I waited with a single carnation in my hand. The second the door opened and she saw what I’d done, she gasped. “You didn’t . . . ,” she breathed.

I’d set up a kiddie pool on the landing. Brought every plant I owned out to brighten the space. Turned on the string lights, draped the coffee table with a beachy pool towel, made a mimosa bar.

It came out great. Our own little oasis.

She put her hands over her mouth. The sparkle in her eyes made the throbbing in my ankle worth every painful step I’d taken that morning.

“I heated up water on the stove,” I said. “I didn’t want it to be too cold for you to get into.”

“Seth . . .”

I smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”