Page 37 of Can't Help Falling

“But I thought you’d lived in the city for a while?”

“I did. My last two years down south, when I was technically under my mother’s care, we lived in New Orleans.”

Mary grimaced in understanding. “You say technically...”

“She wasn’t around much. I was mostly on my own. The best thing she ever did for me was sign me over to Aunt Jetty.”

“Her sister?”

“Yup. That’s when I moved up here to Brooklyn. A few months after that, Via moved in as Jetty’s last foster daughter.”

“Is that why you want to be a foster parent? Because of Jetty?”

Fin frowned. She wouldn’t have put it like that. Every other time she’d tried to explain it, she’d always talked about her own experiences, how she’d wanted to give back to a system that hadn’t let her drown when she was too young to stay afloat on her own.

But now that Mary put it like that, with such a simple question, the answer suddenly seemed obvious to her.

“Oh.” Fin laughed absently and fiddled for a moment with the amethyst necklace. “I...guess that’s a big part of it. I saw the way Jetty saved Via’s life as a foster parent. And Via is pretty much the most important person in my life. I’ve never really realized that I’ve had the privilege of seeing the system from both sides. Both as a foster kid and witnessing my aunt be a foster mother. Hmm.” She turned one raised eyebrow at her friend, her eyes narrowed. “Smart cookie.”

“Just something to think about,” Mary said, taking a comically large bite of her sandwich and making Fin laugh.

They let the conversation float away toward lighter topics and they found themselves clicking through the webpages of a few artists and furniture makers who hoped to sell their wares at Mary’s shop.

A half hour later Mary walked Fin to the door. Fin knew, without having to ask, that there was something dancing on the tip of Mary’s tongue. Words she wasn’t sure she should say or not.

Standing with the door to the shop wide-open, Fin leaned in the jamb. “Spit it out, Mare.”

“All right, all right, I’ll just say it then. I don’t want to be in your business, Fin. But after knowing you just a little bit, it occurs to me that you have a bit of a blind spot—Wait. Let me start over.”

Fin had rarely seen Mary as flustered as she was right now, tugging one hand through her fine blond hair and pinching the collar of her sweater closed against the chilly December air.

“I’ll just say this.” Mary swiped her hand definitively through the air. “Tyler is a good person.”

Fin’s brow furrowed again. Why were they back on the Tyler topic again?

“Okay... Sure.”

“No.” Mary vehemently shook her head. “When I say good person it’s not a meaningless platitude. I mean truly, truly good. I believe it to the soles of my feet.”

There was a beat of silence for a moment where Fin wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

“I could give you examples, if you wanted,” Mary prompted.

Fin burst out laughing. “I don’t need examples. I believe you. Really, I do. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re standing in the cold, determined to get me to understand this.”

Mary shrugged. “He’s my friend. And you are too, of course. But I know for sure that he’s going to treat you well, and I just want to make sure that...”

“That I do the same.”

“Bingo.” Mary looked a little sheepish.

Fin leaned in for a hug. Mary jolted a tiny bit, because touching was something that Fin rarely did. Touching was extremely meaningful to her, imbibed with power and intimacy, and she treated the act with care and reverence. But Mary was a natural hugger. After a stiff second of surprise, her arms were wrapped warmly around Fin. Fin could feel, pouring off of Mary and into the world, Mary’s good intention. She could feel Mary’s love for her. And Mary’s love for Tyler.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Fin took a few steps back. “See you soon?”

“I’ll give you and Via a call this weekend. Maybe we need a fancy dinner on the town or something.”

“Sounds great.”

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