Angel Falls

She is in Hollywood now, in their home, waiting for Julian. She is staring out the window; all she can see is gray. Gray trees, gray flowers, gray sky; the only color is a black crow sitting on a branch, cawing down at her.

No, it isn’t a crow. It is her baby’s cry. She instinctively turns to go to her daughter, but she hears the nanny’s footsteps. She hesitates, afraid to intrude on the older, sour-faced woman who seems to know everything about taking care of baby girls.

She is tired of this life filled with laughter and drugs and sex that happens in other people’s beds. Tired of thin, beautiful women with vacant eyes who never carry photos of children in their wallets. She is lonely, more now than ever. Since Jacey’s birth, Julian is distant. He never holds his daughter or talks to her. Instead he hires other women to do the chores that Kayla longs to do herself.

How can it not have changed him, this bringing of a child into their lives? It has transformed her every cell.

She stands in the shadows of the living room, beside the ornate gas fireplace that holds the sounds and color of fire, but none of the heat.

When Julian gets home—late, as usual, and smelling of another woman’s perfume—she sees how old and tired he looks, and she wonders how long he has looked this way, how long she has overlooked his deterioration. The drugs and alcohol have left marks on his skin, on everything, even the way he moves, all slow motion.

“Jules?”

He turns to her, smiling before he even sees her. “Hey, baby. ”

As he gets closer, she can see the red cast to his eyes, the way his nose is running from too much cocaine. He moves unsteadily, a marionette with broken strings, and it breaks her heart, seeing this so clearly.

She takes his hands in hers, trying not to notice the way his fingers are shaking, the dampness in his palms. “We have to talk, Jules. ”

She sees the flash of irritation in his eyes. Even though he tries to hide it, she sees. “Not again, Kay. Jesus, not again … I know I missed the kid’s birthday party. Let’s not rehash it forever. ” He pulls free and goes to the bar, making himself a cocktail, drinking it too fast. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Baggie of cocaine.

She watches him snort the drug, and there is no word to describe the depth of her sadness. She turns away from him. “We have to change our lives, Julian. ”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, cupping her face in his hands. “And we will. ”

It is the answer he’s given her a dozen times, but it’s not good enough anymore.

“I can’t watch you kill yourself, Jules. I … love you too much for that. And I can’t let Juliana grow up in this world. I want her to know how it feels to be safe. ”

He frowns. “You mean it this time. ”

She turns away from him and goes back to the big picture window. It is funny, she thinks, how fast a life can change. One minute, one set of words that really say nothing at all, and you see what you hadn’t seen before.

She feels him come up behind her. The window reflects his faded image. “You meant what you said in Sunville,” she says dully. “You didn’t really want to marry me. ”

“I didn’t want to lose you. ”

She wonders if he sees the continent that separates her question from his answer.

She can’t raise Juliana in this world. No matter how much she loves Julian, she can’t do this to her daughter. If there’s one thing Kayla knows, it’s the pain of a father who can’t be bothered to spend time with his child. “I’m sorry, Julian,” she whispers, feeling the tears fall down her cheeks.

His arms circle her, holding tightly. “I love you, Kayla, but I can’t give all this up. It’s who I am. ”

She touches his face. “I love you, Julian, more than …” She can’t finish. There is nothing big enough to compare to her love for this man. “I wish we were old and gray and all of this was behind us,” she says at last. “I wish we were sixty years old and we could sit together by the fire with pictures of our grandchildren between us … and laugh about these times. I wish …” Her voice gets caught in the ache spreading through her insides, and she can’t say more.

It is too much for her, these memories. She closes her eyes and sinks again into the sweet, blessed darkness …

At dinner that night, Liam tried to smile and make conversation with his beloved children, but all he could really hear were the tinny silences that collected between his sentences. As he helped himself to another serving of rice, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the hollowed silver surface of an oversized spoon.

The fear hit him then; it was like plunging into Angel Lake on winter’s deepest night.

His hand started shaking. The silver spoon rattled against his pewter plate.

“Daddy?” Bret said, wide-eyed. “Are you okay?”

Liam dropped his spoon and held his hands out. If anyone was surprised by the suddenness of his action, there was no sign of it. “Let’s hold hands,” he said.

Around the table, they reached out for one another. Liam felt Bret’s small hand slip into his; then Jacey took hold of his other hand. Rosa reached out at the other end.