Fallen Elements (6 page)

I admit the light was dim, and my eyes may
have failed me, but it was as if the snow itself parted for them.
What a thing!

Ryan stepped down onto the train platform.
Looking up at the digital clock near the end of the walkway, she
couldn’t believe it was only nine in the morning. Before putting
her coat and gloves on, Ryan slid the diary back into its envelope
and secured it in the front zipper pocket of her Samsonite bag.

So far Ryan had found the entries
interesting. Her ancestor was clearly well versed, and during her
studies, Ryan had read other accounts of how absolutely terrified
women of the day were to give birth. If Ryan was remembering
correctly, the mortality rate was as high as four percent, compared
to current rates in developed countries of around a tenth of a
percent. Back in the day, getting pregnant was one of the more
dangerous things a woman could do.

Winding her way through the congestion of
Baltimore’s Penn Station, Ryan felt more like herself now that she
was back home. She had never realized her affinity for the mostly
working-class city, but after the trials and tribulations of New
York, the laid back atmosphere of Charm City was much more dear to
her.

“You made it!” Nicole Wright was standing in
the passenger loading and unloading zone next to her 1997 white,
Subaru Legacy station wagon. She was twenty seven years old, and
just shy of 5’5” tall with a classic hourglass figure. Ryan had
always admired her alabaster skin, light brown eyes, and long,
thick, chestnut hair.

The two women had been roommates for nearly
two years. They rented a two bedroom/two bath row house in the
Canton neighborhood in the southeastern section of Baltimore. What
had started out as a convenient economic solution for both of the
cash strapped students had quickly blossomed into a genuine
friendship.

“I
barely
made it, friend.” Ryan
opened the rear passenger door of the station wagon and slid her
suitcase into the backseat, taking care to avoid the stack of
paperwork and the laptop strewn across the bench seat. Nicole had
just began a new job at a local engineering firm, and in spite of
her ambition, drive, and intelligence, she was one of the messiest
people Ryan knew.

Ryan slid into the passenger seat next to
Nicole, and latched her seatbelt. Nicole put her hand on Ryan’s
forearm, her eyes filled with concern. “Was it really
terrible?”

Ryan exhaled. “It was nice to see Carol.
That’s about all I can say.” She had so much more to share, but had
decided on the train she wouldn’t mention the inheritance until she
knew what she wanted to do about it.

Never one to linger in melancholy, or allow
others to, Nicole smiled broadly as she put the car into drive.
“It’s early, hon. Let’s pop over to Sip and Bite for breakfast.”
Checking her blind spot, Nicole deftly maneuvered the Subaru into
traffic.

Laying her head back against the cloth head
rest, Ryan grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

“You’ve got your interview tomorrow, yes?”
Nicole slipped her oversized tortoise shell sunglasses on as they
sat at a stop light.

Nodding, Ryan kept her eyes closed. In spite
of the cold weather, it was a clear day, and the intense sunlight
was giving Ryan a headache. “Can I still borrow your car?” She had
never thought to get her own car. Parking in the city was difficult
and could be costly. There had been many frigid winter mornings
waiting for the MTA bus that Ryan envied the people who could
afford the off street parking, and the cars that went along with
it.

“Of course.” Nicole smiled. “What time is
it?”

“Nine o’clock sharp on Monday morning. How
alert do you think either of us will be?”

Nicole chuckled. “You could talk community
planning three pints in and on two hours of sleep.”

Ryan rolled her head to the side, and
squinting looked at her friend. “You flatter me.”

Nicole shook her head. “You’re too
modest.”

“Humble.” Ryan smiled. “It’s a rare thing
these days.”

Nicole swerved to miss an encroaching
cyclist. “Bastard.” Muttering, she moved back into the right lane.
“Humble? Seriously? You’re like the smartest person I know.”

Ryan closed her eyes again. “You have a very
small, select group of confused people in your social circle is
all.”

“Speaking of - Greg called me three times
while you were gone.
Checking in on me
, he says.” Nicole
huffed. Greg Mathews was a strapping twenty eight year old, who was
a tall, blond haired marathon runner. He was fresh out of the
University of Maryland Law School, and gainfully employed at one of
the more prestigious firms in Baltimore. And he was hopelessly in
love with Nicole.

“You poor thing.” Ryan feigned pouting.
Nicole and she had met Greg through the Baltimore Sports and Social
Club when the three of them were assigned to the same flag football
team. For Greg, it was love at first sight, but Nicole tended to
play the field. The idea of settling down while still in her
twenties was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Hey, don’t joke. He’s stalker material.”
Nicole quickly maneuvered the car into a tight spot across the
street from Sip and Bite.

“Please, Nic. We’ve known Greg for over a
year. He’s decent, funny, and even by my standards - hot.” Ryan
unhooked her seat belt. “Let him stalk away.”

The two women trotted across Boston Street
towards the chrome plated Sip and Bite. From the outside, the
restaurant, which had opened in 1948, still retained the look of a
diner. The menu was eclectic, the food good, and most importantly,
inexpensive.

“Why do you look at the menu?” Ryan asked as
she sipped her black coffee.

“You never know. Something new might pop out
at me.” Nicole scanned the laminated menu book.

“You’ve ordered the same thing for the past
two years.” Ryan teased. “Sausage gravy and buttermilk biscuits.
Eggs. Over easy.”

Nicole put the menu down. “I appreciate
tradition.” She took a drink of her orange juice, but not before
playfully sticking her tongue out at Ryan.

“What are we having, ladies?” Tracey, a
middle age African-American woman, had been waiting on Ryan and
Nicole since they first started coming to the restaurant. Only a
few blocks from their house, the Sip and Bite made for great late
night snack runs, and early morning hangover cures.

“French toast with a side of scrambled eggs,
please.” Ryan smiled as she handed the waitress her menu.

Nicole quickly scanned the menu. “I - let me
have - oh, crap. Give me my usual.” She handed Tracey the menu
without looking up.

Chuckling, the waitress shoved her pen behind
her right ear and tucked the two menus under her arm. “Just won me
a five dollar bet.”

Nicole blushed. “Perfect.”

Ryan smiled. This wasn’t the first time the
staff had given Nicole grief over her predictability. The
familiarity of it, this place, the people, made the last four days
fade a little further into the background for Ryan.

“You look too serious. What’s wrong?” Nicole
looked intently at her friend.

Ryan shrugged. “Just glad to be home.”

Covering Ryan’s hand with hers, Nicole
smiled. “You were missed. Another day and I might have given in,
and actually gone out with Greg.”

Ryan eyed her friend suspiciously. “Something
just occurred to me. You’ve been very careful - considerate almost
- about not asking too many questions about the trip.”

Leaning back, Nicole ran her index finger
over the Formica table top. “I’m nothing if not considerate.” She
looked out of the top of her eyes at Ryan. “And you could reward my
patience by - telling me
everything
.”

Shrugging, Ryan wasn’t sure what she was
ready to share. “My mom died. We hadn’t talked in over six years,
and honestly hadn’t known each other for even longer.” Her voice
faltered, and Ryan took a quick sip of coffee.

“Hey, if it’s too soon.” Nicole said, her
eyes full of worry.

Shaking her head, Ryan continued. “It’s fine.
The house was the same as I remembered it. Huge and lavish, and
everything was too much.” Rolling her eyes, she thought about
Andrew. “And my lecherous cousin Andrew was
exactly
the
same.”

“But you got to see Carol.” Nicole offered
hopefully.

“I did. She’s wonderful, and with any luck
can make it down for a visit in May.”

“And the infamous Aunt Lucy?” Nicole lowered
her voice ominously.

“The perpetual social butterfly. She managed
the funeral like she would manage a dinner party.”

Nicole shivered. “God. That’s in poor
taste.”

“Actually, she was kind of amazing. You know
- as in horrifically overbearing and tyrannical. Amazing.” Ryan sat
back as Tracey slid her French toast and eggs down in front of
her.

Nicole smiled when she saw her biscuits and
gravy. “Amazing indeed.”

Pouring syrup over her French toast, Ryan
hesitated before continuing. “I did meet someone interesting. It
was sort of odd. We sat next to each other on the train, and then
she shows up at the funeral.” Putting the syrup down, the image of
Leah formed perfectly in Ryan’s mind. “She was kind of awesome
too.”

Realizing Nicole wasn’t responding, Ryan
looked up. Her friend sat with an amused expression on her face,
with a piece of gravy covered biscuit dangling from the end of her
fork.

“What?” Ryan looked down and began to focus
on cutting her French toast.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this straight -
pun intended. You met a woman at a funeral? Quote, an
awesome
woman?” Nicole popped the bite in her mouth, a smug
smirk on her face.

Without looking up, Ryan shook her head. “You
misunderstood me. She was nice. That’s all I meant.”

“Right. Nice.”

Waving her hand in the air, Ryan was
struggling not to get defensive. “You’re twisted.”

Nicole laughed. “Yeah. Because I’m the one
picking chicks up at my mom’s funeral.”

Ryan dropped her fork. The clattering sound
as it hit the floor sent a jolt up her back. “Shit.” Leaning over,
she fished the utensil out from under the table. A split second
later, Tracey slid another one in front of her.

“Thanks.”

“No trouble.” Tracey winked reassuringly at
Ryan.

Without looking at Nicole, Ryan began eating
her breakfast again. “I didn’t pick anyone up. She and my mom were
friends in high school, and my aunt clearly hates her. So
logically, I had to take an immediate liking to her.”

Nicole finished chewing before speaking.
“Well, if the maniacal aunt doesn’t like her, the two of you should
get married.”

Ryan nearly choked on her eggs. “God, you’re
clever.”

Mouth full of biscuit, Nicole grinned.
“Brilliantly clever, hon.”

Chapter 4

To avoid dealing with the hassle of street
parking, Ryan decided to move the car early the next morning before
her interview. Pulling her suitcase behind her, Ryan and Nicole
walked back to their house from Sip and Bite. Ryan frowned as they
approached the marble stoop leading up to their front door.

“Nic, man, you’ve got to keep this area
clean.” Looking down, there were two empty National Bohemian beer
cans sitting on the top step of the stoop.

“Those are from last night.” The woman smiled
as she unlocked the front door.

One of the first things Ryan had learned when
she moved to Baltimore was the importance of maintaining a clean
and tidy stoop. What front porches were to people in the south, a
well maintained stoop was to Baltimoreans.

“You’re lucky Mrs. Grady hasn’t seen this.”
Phyllis Grady was not only their neighbor, but their landlady. She
was over eighty, and when Ryan and Nicole had moved in two years
ago, the octogenarian had laid down a few rules not outlined in
their lease.

“Here. You take this, and no less than once a
week, you scrub that marble.” The gray haired, stooped woman
gestured toward the four steps leading to the house’s wooden front
door. “That’s the same marble they used in our nation’s capital, so
you respect it.”

Ryan had taken the cleaning supplies, which
consisted of a can of Bon Ami cleaning powder and a bristled scrub
brush, and assured the woman they would maintain the steps.

“Stoop, hon.” Mrs. Grady had insisted. “It’s
a stoop.” Without another word, she had turned and walked back into
her house.

Nicole rolled her eyes at Ryan. “Christ, I’ll
come right back out and toss the cans.”

Ryan shook her head. “Here, take my suitcase.
I’ll drop the cans in the recycling bin.”

Lifting the Samsonite up so Nicole could take
the handle, Ryan grabbed the two beer cans, and walked over to the
narrow alley between their house and Mrs. Grady’s. The opening was
barely wide enough for the recycling bin and metal trash can to
fit. The alley led back to a small yard both houses shared, but
Ryan’s minor claustrophobia meant she accessed the yard through the
house.

“You’re back, Ms. Myers?” Phyllis spoke from
behind Ryan, causing the woman to jump.

“Hi, Mrs. Grady. Yes. Quick trip to New
York.” Ryan put the blue lid back on the recycling bin, and turned
toward the house.

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

Ryan stopped, and turned to face the woman.
“My mother?”

Phyllis nodded as she pulled the collar of
her brown camel coat up around her neck. It was then that Ryan
realized the woman was only wearing her coat, light blue house
dress, and a pair of thick wool socks. “Mrs. Grady, you should get
inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Please. You’re what - some kind of doctor?
You know you can’t get a cold from getting cold, hon.” Phyllis
huffed as she shoved her hands inside her coat pockets. “Anyway,
sorry about your mother. I saw the obituary in the New York Times,
and photos from the funeral. She looked young.”