Read Online After the Fall by Kylie Ladd - Free Book Online

enough. What else?”
    I thought for a while.
    “He cooks me dinner and picks me up from work if it’s raining.”
    Sarah looked unimpressed, and I was uncharacteristically stuck for words. Instead of enumerating Cary’s many good points, I suddenly felt depressed. The sight of all the university students had made me feel old, had reminded me of Jake and that things fall apart no matter how much you wish they wouldn’t. Ridiculously, I felt tears bite at the corners of my eyes.
    “Come on,” Sarah said softly, catching my mood. “What does he do that you love him for? Something your father wouldn’t.”
    “He runs a bath for me when I’m tired.” I sniffed. “And he cleans it up afterward, and he has the sense not to bother me while I’m in there.”
    “Good,” said Sarah, nodding her head. “And …?”
    “He doesn’t go to sleep straight after sex. He buys me lingerie, but not the slutty sort with bits cut out. He takes my side when his mother gets to be too much.”
    “That’s important.”
    “He lets me keep tampons in his bathroom cupboard without getting all squeamish about it. Remember how uptight Jake was about that sort of stuff?”
    “Sure do,” she said, smiling. “Any more?”
    I was warming to the task now. “He buys me popcorn at the movies even though he doesn’t eat it himself. He apologizes when we have a fight. And if I read a book and adore it, he’ll read it to find out why, even though I know he prefers those journals.”
    After a moment I added, “He holds my head when I drink too much and throw up. I even threw up in his birdbath once and he didn’t get upset.”
    Sarah laughed, and I suddenly noticed that the students around us had disappeared.
    “He makes me feel beautiful,” I said quietly. “And kind of dazzling, as if he can’t believe he has me.” Then I took a deep breath for the biggest confession, one I was only just admitting to myself. “He looks after me. He strokes my hair when he thinks I’m asleep. He worries about me.”
    “They all sound like perfect reasons to me,” Sarah said, proffering a tissue in case I was going to burst into tears again. But I didn’t need it. I felt light-headed, elated, justified. Cary was different from my previous boyfriends: a lot quieter, more introspective and reserved. Though they knew he was nice enough, every so often I sensed that my friends and family wondered exactly what it was I saw in him, how his smiling steadiness could interest me after the crashing highs and lows of my relationship with Jake. Sarah hadn’t asked to be convinced, but I saw that she was nonetheless, and the validation warmed me.
    “He picks up after himself,” I continued. “He remembers our anniversary without my nagging about it for a week in advance.”
    “Okay, that will do. I have to get back to work,” Sarah said, pulling on her jacket.
    “He rings his parents regularly. He knows that foreplay doesn’t just mean undoing my bra.”
    “Enough!” Sarah laughed, pretending to hurry away.
    “I’ll e-mail you the rest,” I called after her. “He’s been a best man three times! He’s kind to small animals!” The waitress was staring at me, but I didn’t care. Her boyfriend probably expected her to wear crotchless panties.

CRESSIDA
•
    I love hospitals. I’m sure that’s my father’s influence—how could it not be, when I remember accompanying him on ward rounds when I was only four? Still, I suppose I could have rebelled, the way children of alcoholics often turn into teetotalers, or vice versa. I didn’t. I love the buzz and hum of hospitals, their pulse and throb. I suppose stock markets or large manufacturing plants have a similar level of activity and purpose, but somehow it’s different when actual lives are at stake. A major teaching hospital has more energy than a theme park, and I’ve always found that exciting.
    I realize this isn’t normal. The only other person I’ve ever met who truly understands this