Page 19 of And They Had a Great Fall

“Phew,” he said with a smile in his voice. He turned the phone face down. He slid it back across the table without looking down. “I don’t want to see them. I don’t follow my own fans. Fame is destabilizing enough without seeing myself through other people’s eyes.” He paused and cocked his head. “Wait. Do you?”

She stilled and felt her cheeks flush. She followed about half a dozen fan accounts. She was busted. “Yes,” she said, hiding her face with her hands. “Does that weird you out?”

He let out a loud laugh, deep from his belly. “Seriously? I didn’t know you were a stan, deep down.”

She covered her eyes and hid her face as she started to giggle. “Actually, I’m your biggest stan,” she said. “You know that Instaaccount about your hair? I started one that’s even better!” she teased. “It’s about your third toe. I call it Jakey Toe. It’s very popular.”

He was shaking with laughter as he lifted his feet into her lap. “They’re all yours,” he said. “Worship away!”

She bent her head down to his feet and threw her head back. “Oh, your feet stink!” she yelped, pushing his feet away. As his feet hit the floor, he lurched forward. They were both laughing as their lips met. The laughter turned into the sound of their breath as their lips moved against each other. She ended the kiss, but Jake put his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her forehead against his and locking his eyes with hers. Kat could feel the emotion building. She pulled away and sat back in her chair. She saw a flicker of frustration on his face, but before he could say anything, Jake’s stomach audibly growled.

Jake suggested they walk down to the café for some breakfast. He wouldn’t let them leave the building separately or do any of the cloak-and-dagger maneuvers from yesterday. It took less than seven minutes to reach the café, situated along the canal. After she’d shown him around the city yesterday, he wanted to show Kathisfavorite spot. It was one of the few places he’d visit during his brief time in the city. The café was comfortable and charming with rows of pastries in the window. A bell on the door clanged when they walked in. There was a small wooden counter for ordering and a few rustic tables in the back.

It was early and empty. They ordered at the counter. Jake only wanted coffee, but Kat insisted they split akanelsnegle, a Danish cinnamon bun. She also ordered a soft-boiled egg with toast. Once they collected their food, they chose a table in the back corner.

Kat leaned forward in her chair and pointed out the window to a bright orange and blue bird sitting on the window box. “Oh,I need to get a picture of that bird,” she said, grabbing her phone. “Your dad will love it.” She tapped her phone to take a picture before it flew away. “Can you believe how much your parents are into bird watching now? Apparently, it’s a sport in Central Park. Who knew?”

He hesitated before answering, instead taking a long sip of coffee. She didn’t seem to notice and kept talking. “Shoot, I won’t text them yet. I told them Becca was upstate while I traveled for work, but I didn’t tell them I was coming to see you. Do you think they’ll mind? Maybe I should have told them. Did you tell them I was coming? Believe me, I have a lot of guilt about the things I’ve been doing with their precious only son.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. He gazed at the back wall and shook his head. Panic spread across her face. “That was supposed to make you laugh. Oh God, I just mentioned us having sex together and talking to your parents in the same sentence. Are you freaked out?”

“No, no,” he said without hesitation. “I didn’t know about the bird watching.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t tell them you were coming. We aren’t really talking right now.” Jealousy bubbled up in his throat, straining his reply. He didn’t think they would get into this conversation right now.

“What? I didn’t know,” said Kat. “For how long?”

“Months. Not a word in months,” he admitted, and felt the shame he’d been working hard to bury. He hated saying it out loud. Given her close relationship with his parents, he was surprised she didn’t already know. By now, he assumed Kat knew he was nothing but a disappointment to his family.

Kat had moved next door long after Jake had left to work on a series of projects in Europe and Canada. Over the better part of two years, Jake rarely came home. During that time, his parents developed a fondness for their new neighbors: the husband battling cancer and his pregnant wife.

Once Becca was born, they doted on her unlike anything he’d ever witnessed. They’d bragged to him in nearly every phone call as if she were their actual grandchild. Once Ben died, Jake’s mom spent considerable time helping Kat with Becca, a job she took very seriously. From afar, Jake saw this as something his parents had done out of neighborly obligation.

Being home during the pandemic, he’d seen the full depth of their relationship. This was not a relationship held together by obligation or pity; it was a chosen family. The way they took care ofeach otherwas filled with a visible kindness.

Kat brought groceries home for his parents and picked up his grandmother’s medication when the only pharmacy open was fifteen blocks away. She baked snickerdoodle cookies for his dad, which he hoarded, despite insisting he didn’t eat sweets. The love and care between them reminded him of his own failings as a son. In his pursuit of his career, he hadn’t played the role of dutiful son in years … or ever.

“I was dumb, I know. It was my fault.” He hesitated. “My mom was upset at how little time I’d been home. She’d asked me to come back a few times, and I couldn’t get a break in my schedule—” he stopped yet again. “And then I didn’t make it home before Grandma died.” He lived with the guilt of not making it in time but was frustrated at the depth of his mom’s anger.

He believed his mother wanted him to stick around the Upper West Side for his entire life. She didn’t understand the crushing pressure he felt to establish himself in the entertainment industry. If he wasn’t overseas, he would need to be in Los Angeles. No matter what, he would spend a considerable amount of time away from New York. Actors had short shelf lives, and he was acutely aware that part of his appeal was his youth. He was consumed with anxiety about missing his window, a fear supported by all those he trusted in the industry. Roger had counseled him to sacrifice now.

“She told me she was embarrassed to have raised such a selfish human being. She was disappointed … in me. In who I’d become.” His voice shook as they talked. He had been overwhelmed with self-loathing and that did him in. He didn’t know how to balance his life with much else and the result came across as, and maybe truly was, selfish. Kat was right this morning. He’d never lived with responsibilities that didn’t center around himself.

“And I walked out. Just like that. And then she called, more than once, and I ignored her.” He rubbed his face with his hand. He wouldn’t let his brain return to the vitriol-fueled comments he had made until his mother had been reduced to a pile of tears. He could still remember her face, shocked and crumbling. He hated himself for that day.

“Kat, I said some terrible things.” It felt cathartic to acknowledge the rift between him and his family. He looked at Kat sitting across from him and realized she was the only person he trusted to let in so completely. Being in her presence was like a form of truth serum. He didn’t need to play a part with her. He showed her everything, including those parts of him that were ugly and difficult. He drew in his breath and paused for her to comment on the mess he’d made of his entire family.

“I’m really sorry you’re going through all this,” Kat said, spreading butter on her Rugbrod and taking a bite. She looked at him but did not elaborate.

Jake waited, and when she remained silent, he asked, “Is that it? You have nothing else to say?” His tone bordered on exasperation. “I was expecting a speech, or a lecture, or something.” His brain raced as he wondered what she was thinking. She was rarely silent.

“Oh, you want a speech?” she asked, pushing the cinnamon bun toward him. “Take a bite. You need to eat something.”

He couldn’t believe she was being elusive at a time like this. “You always have an opinion. Let’s hear it,” he said.

She wiped her mouth and took a drink. He could tell she was weighing her words carefully. She leaned back in her chair. “First off,” she started, “I’m not going to get involved. I’ll share a few thoughts, but I need you to know, I love all of you too much to pick sides.”

Jake nodded, pulled off a piece of the cinnamon bun, and urged her to go on. He noticed her use of “love,” and his stomach fluttered. He took a bite of the flaky pastry, his shoulders relaxing as the cinnamon hit his tongue.

“As for your fight, please keep in mind, you were both grieving. You were grieving your grandmother, but she was grieving her own mother. Jake, that’s a loss that makes you question your own mortality in a sudden and frightening way.”

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