Page 17 of Catch Me When I Fall

His smile faded. “Because a long time ago, I lost my dad, and I would’ve given anything to help my mother start over instead of being stuck in the same house, in the same town, for the rest of her days.”

My lips parted. “I-I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It was a long time ago.”

I looked back to the road and then down to the paper. There were two words scribbled on it.

“What’s this?” I questioned; my voice thick.

“All you have to do is give that to Sarah and tell her to call me, yeah?”

“Okay,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

He flashed me a handsome grin, one I knew had to drive his wife crazy. “I’ll be seeing you around, Carrie,” he said, turning to walk away.

I moved toward the car window. “Wait—what’s your name?” I called out to his back.

He turned around, lifting his chin. “Michael Humbly.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

He smiled. “Go see my wife, Carrie. Oh—and welcome to Astoria.” He left me with that, getting back into his squad car.

A small bell above the door jingled as I stepped into the quint bookstore, the smell of fresh coffee filling my nostrils, overwhelming my senses in the best way. My eyes adjusted to the light quickly as I took in the rows of bookcases that lined the walls of the space, leaving two smaller rows of bookcases in the middle. Towards the back, there was a spiral staircase, and as my eyes trailed its length, I was pleasantly surprised to find a small children’s section overlooking the rest of the bookstore.

I looked to the left and found the source of the amazing coffee scent. There was an espresso bar on the far wall, nestled into the other half of the space, with barstools and various small tables placed around it. The chairs were painted a wine red, matching the expensive-looking espresso machine behind the counter. There was a black-haired woman with tattoos making a latte behind the bar, chatting with the customer in front of her.

“Can I help you find something, dear?”

I turned my head to find a tall, slender gentleman dressed in khakis and a knitted sweater standing behind a smaller checkout counter, books stacked all around him. He was older, possibly in his late fifties, but there was a child-like sparkle in his eyes that I found precious.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to stand in the doorway,” I rushed out, stepping up to the counter.

He smiled at me, the lines around his eyes deepening. “That’s quite alright,” he said, and that’s when I noticed his British accent. “How can I help you?”

“I’m actually here to see Sarah,” I told him. “Is she here?”

He nodded. “She’s in the back. May I ask why you need her?”

I held up the note Michael had given me. “Her husband told me to come find her.”

The man’s eyes lit up. “Did he now?” he asked as his eyes assessed me.

Heat crawled into my cheeks. “After he pulled me over.”

The man blinked before he threw his head back, a loud, pleasant laugh escaping him. It echoed through the quiet store, and I swallowed the urge to yank my hoodie up as I looked around. The barista and customer were both looking in our direction now.

The heat in my cheeks grew.

As the man’s laughter died, he walked around the counter. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. Thank you for that, dear,” he said, beaming.

I gave him a fake smile. “Glad I could help.”

He chuckled again. “I’ll go get Sarah. Please,” he said, gesturing towards the books, “feel free to look around.” With that, he left me, disappearing into the stacks.

I looked down at my appearance, taking in my day-old leggings and Cardinal hoodie.

I needed a shower, food, and a day-long nap, but I came here first against my better judgment. Michael had been so kind to me and honestly, I wouldn’t mind some help—maybe even a friend or two?

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