Page 10 of Fall Wherever They May

The rest of my day is spent working up an appetite as I attempt to unpack my clothes and organize my room, and most importantly right now my closet. Tomorrow is my first day of a new career, and I have so damn much to prove. Although my outfit alone can't prove anything, I do understand the importance of making a good impression. Finding something unwrinkled to wear with clothes still packed in boxes is futile, and I don’t have time to dry clean anything. With my legs crossed, I sit on the floor of my closet, nibbling on my lip, as I try to come up with a plan.

There’s shuffling in my room, then River’s smiling face appears in the doorway to my closet with a glass of wine in each hand. “What are you doing sitting on the floor all alone? Did you put yourself in timeout again?”

I huff a laugh. “While I wish I could say that’s the case, it’s not. No, I can’t find anything to wear tomorrow that’s not wrinkled, so I thought I’d just sit here until something suitable to wear tomorrow magically appeared before my eyes. Think a fairy godmother might rescue me?”

River saunters into the closet, passing a glass to me. “Well, I’m no fairy godmother, but I do have wine, and . . . remember that black dress you let me borrow for my interview last week?”

“Don’t tell me . . .”

“I picked it up from the cleaners on Saturday, and it’s hanging in my closet. You’re welcome.” She giggles. “Now, move your ass. I’m hungry, and the pizzas aren’t going to make themselves.”

Ingredients rest on the center island in our kitchen; a mess of flour covers every inch of the surface. The windows are open, and the fresh night breeze flows through the house, cooling down the rising temperature from the preheating oven. Long gray curtains in the living room ripple and whip from thewind, creating a bit of nostalgia of my childhood back when the nights were cool, and Mom would open up all the windows. Music streams through the surround sound, enveloping the kitchen with our favorite songs from the playlist set on random shuffle.

“Am I doing it right, Mama?” Tucker kneads the dough, his head bobbing to Tommy Richman’s “Million Dollar Baby.”

“That’s exactly right, buddy. Except you’re missing something.” I chuckle.

Tucker’s brows furrow as he looks around trying to figure out what he missed. “Did I forget to mix something in?” He asks in confusion. I take a finger and run it down the length of the island.

“Nope . . . Boop.” I dot flour on his freckled nose. “That’s what’s missing.” A burst of laughter flies from my mouth.

“Oh, I know she didn’t!” River laughs as she reaches a hand into the bag of flour.

One after the other, they grab a handful of flour out of the sack, and I already know I have started an all-out war. I run around the counter, first turning one way, then the other, trying to evade them. Flour is being thrown in all directions, and it’s no use; I already resemble the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

“Why must you both always team up on me?” I chuckle, finding myself in a pickle between the two.

“Because he’s my favorite nephew. Don’t start no shit; there won’t be no shit.” She calls out with both hands full of flour.

“That’s five dollars in the swear jar, Aunt River.” Tucker laughs.

“Add it to my tab. Now, let's get her!”

River comes at me from the right and Tucker from the left. As soon as they both raise their arms to throw, I jump back out of the line of fire, leaving them to hit each other withthe flour. I’m bent over laughing so hard that I don’t realize someone is behind me until I feel something wet hit the top of my head. Red tomato sauce drips down, painting my hair, clothes, and the laminate wood floor. I hear the slaps of River’s and Tucker’s hands as they high-five.

“Okay! Okay! You win! I’m going to jump in the shower.” Laughing, I point at River. “You are so lucky I’m wearing ratty clothes right now.”

“We’ll clean this mess up and finish the pizzas,” she says as I make an awkward shuffle up to my room.

After I’m showered and changed, I make my way downstairs with a laundry basket. Through the expansive living room, you can see the dining room to the right of the front door. A large oak table with seating for twelve is centered in the middle. There’s a sideboard that rests along the wall opposite the bay window, which overlooks the neighborhood. Tucker sets out plates and napkins as River takes the pizzas out of the oven. The aroma of garlic wafts in the air as River walks past with our dinner. She sets the pizzas down at the end of the table. After I’m finished in the laundry room, I grab drinks for us and join them with the dog trailing at my heels; he lays down at my feet. Dinner with my family every night is one of the things I’m going to miss when I start my new job.

I turn to address Tucker, “Tomorrow, Aunt River has a job interview, so you’ll be going to work with me.”

Tucker thrusts his fist in the air. “YES! Do you think I’ll get to meet any of the players?”

“We have a team meeting, and the entire team will be there.” I shrug, then nod. “So yes, I’m sure you will run into one of them at some point. But I need you to remember this is their job, as well as mine. I will be working, and so will they, so you need to be on your best behavior.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes.

River turns to face me. “I’m so sorry, Aspen. I know it’s your first day, and it probably looks bad on you to bring your son with you to work, especially when you have a meeting.”

“No worries. Hannah and I were going over things this past week, and she told me that sometimes staff and players bring their kids with them to the facility during the offseason. Actually, with it being summer break and school being out, everyone expects to see kids there.” I smile reassuringly and continue. “River, you came to New York to restart your life, not be my live-in babysitter. I appreciate your help; I really do, but I can’t form a dependency on you. I need to learn to juggle this new life on my own.”

“Babysitter?” Tucker cuts in incredulously, then adds, “I’m not a baby. I’ll be in fifth grade; I’m practically grown.” Aspen and I both laugh in unison.

My eyes land on Tucker, and I pat his hand, placatingly. “Buddy, I know you’re not a baby anymore; in two more weeks you will have your last first day of elementary school. Before you know it, you’ll be an adult wishing to return to the carefree days of being a baby. So, enjoy it while it lasts.”

I take a bite of my pizza and chew carefully before I address River. “If you want, you can watch Tucker some when I travel with the team—at least until I can secure other arrangements—but other than that, maybe you could just keep an eye on him for a few minutes if I need to run somewhere close by. I’m serious, River, this is your chance to make your life whatever you want to make it. You have to stop feeling obligated to help me.”

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