Page 6 of The Fall

It never failed. Whenever I was nervous about anything, I was instantly sarcastic about the situation. It had proved to be a nightmarish flaw over the years and was no less mortifying now. If all else failed, my brain was convinced sarcasm and denial were my best defense.

“When the hell did you or Rose ever do anything conventionally?” my dad pointed out as he picked the spatula up and walked to the sink to rinse it.

“So true,” my mom said, eyeing me with a smile. “As a matter of fact, your dad and I placed a bet a year ago on which one of you would get pregnant first.” My mom nodded at me, and my jaw dropped. “So you picked me, Mom?” I snapped, offended.

“And I was close, wasn’t I?” she said with a wink and smiled at my dad.

“You chose me, Daddy!” Rose shrieked, now equally as irritated.

“Girls, please, you’re both plenty old enough to have kids,” my mom piped happily.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” Rose said, eyeing us all. “That’s not the way of things. It goes love, marriage, children,” she huffed, scolding us all.

“Ah,” my mom said, eyeing my dad. “So, you’ll set the example for us all. Well, that’s a relief,” my mom added, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she added a few more casserole dishes to the table and gestured again for us to sit.

“Maybe I will,” Rose said smartly, refusing to meet my mom’s eyes. My mom was the complete definition of a liberal. She hated what the world considered ‘the norm’. She always encouraged us to live out loud and resist conformity when it was a bad idea. My dad, on the other hand, was a conservative man. They made for an interesting parenting combination, leaving Rose and I to muddle through their conflicting advice our entire lives. Still, somehow…it worked. I grinned between the two of them and could see the wheels turning at the idea of a grandchild. They would have been thrilled, both of them.

“Can we change the subject?” I begged, bored with the conversation. “Disaster averted.”

“Babies are not a disaster. They’re an absolute blessing,” my mom said, grabbing my hand. Lowering my head as my mom said grace, I ignored the tugging feeling threatening me.

You have come too far, Dallas.

My mom spoke her following words with one eye open. “And Lord, if possible, I would love to be a grandmother sometime this century. Amen.”

“I’m sure Dad will win the bet, Mom,” I added, circling my fork around my burnt fish. “I have no interest in any of that.”

“Don’t you dare put that burden on me,” Rose choked out through a sip of her water. “I don’t need that right now, either.”

“Lightning will strike for you one day, Dallas. You, too, Rose,” my dad assured us.

“Lord, Dad, what are you harping on about now?” my brother Paul said, waltzing into the kitchen, all smiles with his wife Hilary by his side as he took turns hugging each of us. We all stood to exchange greetings with a shy Hilary, who gave us all warm smiles. She was 5’1” and one hundred pounds soaking wet with hazel eyes and classic features. She had worked hard to chip away at Paul’s resolve to never settle down. But according to Paul, it took him ten minutes to fall in love with her.

“Your sisters just indirectly told us we would never be grandparents. For now, your bet is safe.”

Paul smirked as he looked straight at me.

“Great, you too? Who did you bet on, Paul?” I asked, knowing I was the one he had wagered on.

“I had to weigh in, Dallas. I practically raised you with them.” Paul was twelve years older than I was and fourteen older than Rose. He had done it all for us and with us. As far as big brothers went, Rose and I had been incredibly lucky. My brother was the spitting image of my dad with strawberry blond hair, striking jade green eyes, and fair skin. Their likeness was unmistakable.

“How’s business, son?” My dad addressed my brother as he sat, eyeing the fish with distaste before loading his plate with sides.

“Great, Dad, but could you please come back a day this week and stomp Jose’s ass? He won’t listen to me again.”

“It’s all yours, my boy. He is the best foreman in the state of Texas, but he’s a mean old bastard. You will just have to figure out a way.”

“Seriously, Dad. I will fire him before I deal with him much longer,” he said, forking some potatoes.

“No, you won’t. You’re too smart,” my dad mused.

They gave each other a grin. My dad was immensely proud of his son for taking over his construction company. My dad had been the best architect in Dallas and still dabbled in designing buildings but had given his son the other half of the business when he retired. He now used all his free time to drive my mom insane. I watched my dad take my mom’s hand, as he often did without noticing—but she did. She looked down at their hands and smiled at him while he surveyed the table.

“Why don’t you harp on Paul about having kids?” I nudged my brother next to me. “He is old as dirt, married, and hasn’t produced a Whitaker heir yet.”

Hilary instantly froze, a wave of unease crossing her features. Paul gave me a weary look before spurting out, “All good things,” and taking her hand to squeeze it tightly, then whispering softly into her ear. I seemed to be the only one to notice the exchange and made a point to ask him about it later.

“Mark my words. Lightning will strike you, dear daughters. There is no stopping it,” my dad said confidently, eliciting a round of groans from me and my siblings.

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