The Fastest Way to Fall(14)

I was half-heartedly searching my calendar for times to plan the thirty minutes a day when the ping of a new message drew me back and a smile spread across my face.





10





I BRACED MYSELF as the call connected and Mom’s raspy voice came over the line. “I didn’t think you’d ever call me back.”

“Sorry. I was busy. How are you?” Turning my chair away from the desk, I looked out the window at nothing in particular. I struggled to connect the dissonance of it being sunny and bright outside. I wanted gray skies to match my mood.

“Oh, Chris.” Only my mom called me by my first name anymore. I’d been “Wes” to everyone else since college.

I tried to pull back my own memories and keep the conversation moving. I didn’t want to wallow with her. “What did you take today?”

“You’re always in my business.”

“You wanted me to call you back, remember?”

“Oh.” She sounded far away, her voice quiet.

“Mom?”

“Have you heard from Libby?” She sounded so hopeful, her voice brightening.

“Not in a while.” I never knew what had happened between the two of them, but it had been bad enough for Libby to bolt at seventeen. Sometimes taking care of Mom, as much as she would let me, felt like a betrayal to my sister.

“Oh.” She sighed, and I pictured her slumping down. “She might come back, Chris. Be patient with Libby. She takes her time.”

“Sure, Mom.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to remind her. “It’s her birthday today. She’s twenty-three now.”

“God, I got old. I had two kids by that age. She’ll be fine.” Her words slurred and then halted, like she’d dropped the phone. “You should find a nice girl. A pretty one who doesn’t run.”

I didn’t have heart-to-heart conversations with my mom. I didn’t know what she thought about Libby leaving, but every time she said She’ll be fine and told me not to worry, I tensed. “Do you need money? Is that why you called?”

“A little wouldn’t hurt.”

I nodded and told her I’d get it to her. Disconnecting the call, I checked for a reply from Libby for no real reason, and then tossed my phone aside, pushing my palms against my eyes again, the silence of my office overtaking me. I hated that I felt so raw after talking to her. I should have been used to it after so many years.

What a damned mess. My sister’s gone, Mom’s barely functioning, and the person I thought I’d spend my life with is trying to destroy my company.

My desktop notification for the coaching portal pinged. B. I still didn’t know what to make of her. She was funny. I bet she had a nice smile. As I read her reply, I imagined what it would be like to be with someone who smiled easily. I remembered her question about stress relief. Dancing is good cardio. I could use some loud music and a warm body against me.

C’mon, Wes. Get it fucking together. I’d never send something like that to a client. There were a few types of men I swore I’d never be. I’d never abandon my kids like my own father had; I’d never use women to meet my own needs. I’d never take advantage of someone who trusted me. I tapped out a real response following a deep breath.



From: FitMiCoachWes1

To: Bmoney34

Sent: February 8, 10:50 a.m.


B,


Rough day here, too. I like to run when I’m stressed, but take a hot bath? Go for a walk? Go punch an inanimate object? The ice cream is tasty, so if you want some, check out the serving size information for reference. As for rom-coms, I got nothing. Trust your gut! Here’s an article on our site about stress.


Do you want to talk about it?


T.S.



Pearl’s voice made me look up from my phone. “Mason said he has options for you and Cord when you’re ready. I figured you might want some time after your phone call, so I told him you weren’t free until one.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Pearl. I appreciate everything. You’re . . .” I was going to say something overly emotional that she would wave off. Instead, I corrected and just repeated, “Thank you.”

“Need anything else?”

I shook my head. “Thanks.”

“You can stop thanking me.”

“Never.”

“Can you say it with bonus checks, then?”

“That, I can do.” She held up a hand when I opened my mouth to thank her and then closed my door.

A notification sounded, and I glanced at the screen.



From: Bmoney34

To: FitMiCoachWes1

Sent: February 8, 11:05 a.m.


“T.S.” makes you sound like a very classy author of obscure and unreadable books. I like it. I want a cool nickname, too. Get on that, will you, Coach?


I’ll walk home and then take a hot bath. Is wine allowed? Please say yes. Your method of running it out sounds awful, but I guess that’s why you’re the coach and I need one. Hope your day gets better.


No need to bore you with details. I suspect I’m already taking up more of your time than you planned. You can tell me if I am emailing too much. I’m in unfamiliar territory here, but you’re the pro. How long have you worked for the company?