Crashing Back Down c-1 Read online

  Crashing Back Down

  ( Crashing - 1 )

  Kristen Hope Mazzola

  Mags McManus has just become a war widow in her mid-twenties. Her late husband, Randy, left for the Army right after their wedding. Instead of celebrating his homecoming and living in marital bliss with her soulmate, Mags finds herself living in constant agony. Dealing with the guilt of still living without Randy, are Randy's best friends and parents.

  Rising from the ashes of this tragedy, Mags starts to learn how to love and trust again, finally being able to find happiness. But sometimes things really are too good to be true and again Mags learns how cruel the world can be as she crashes back down.

  Crashing Back Down

  Crashing - 1

  by

  Kristen Hope Mazzola

  Prologue

  Excitement started to form butterflies in my stomach while Cali and I giggled in her bathroom, getting our makeup just right for our first adventure into the new world of college Greek life. We had met only a few weeks back during sorority rush, and became instant friends. We could not have asked for more; being pledges for the same sorority and starting to dive right into a ‘real’ college experience. It was the first night of fraternity rush and some of our older sisters invited us to join in the festivities at one of the fraternity houses on campus. It was a really big deal, and we were bubbling over with giddiness.

  When we were finally walking up the dampened front lawn of the frat house, I grabbed Cali’s arm, completely in awe of the sea of ravishing men we were wading through. She pointed out an especially good-looking guy wearing his letters across his noticeably chiseled chest. He was tan, tall, and had tattoos poking out from under his sleeves. I bit my bottom lip and salivated with Cali as we followed the hottie into the foyer.

  There were tons of guys and girls, all grouped off, trying to convince potential new members that being Greek was amazing and that this was the fraternity for them. It did not take too long for a handsome brother to stride up to us, and to our surprise, the guy I was mentally undressing before stood next to him. I found out that the hottie’s name was Walker, but my attention was quickly diverted to his friend, Randy. There was just something about him that stunned me.

  We chatted and flirted with them throughout the night, while meeting other potentials who were not so favorable. Apparently, during fraternity rush, they had a few guys doing "trash duty,” meaning any guy who over stayed his welcome was kindly escorted out by the trash handlers. It was a pretty fun role that Randy and Walker let us participate in. We drank, chuckled, and toyed. Cali and I played with our hair, laughed at every joke and batted our eyelashes perfectly.

  A pimply-faced freshman puffed on his inhaler while talking to Randy, and Cali grabbed my arm. “Come with me to the bathroom.” I nodded and asked Walker where it was.

  His lips curled seductively as he put his hand on the small of my back, pointing in the direction of the girls' room. “Don’t worry, we cleaned it this morning.” His southern drawl curled around the words, making him that much more attractive as he winked and gave another sexy smile. We both fawned over his seductive tone as we weaved through the crowd to the bathroom.

  Luckily, the oversized bathroom that smelled like piss and Lemon Pledge was empty. Cali undid her shorts and plopped on the toilet while I checked my mascara in the mirror.

  “Those two are freaking hot as hell, Mags!” Cali’s voice was full of excitement mixed with lust.

  I touched up my makeup, trying to talk without messing up the liquid eyeliner. “The girls were right. There are men for the picking.” I finished, and turned to Cali, who was zipping up her tight black shorts. “Which one do you want?”

  Her eyes went wide at my words, “Randy is all over you; obviously he’s yours! Besides, Walker has a bad boy southern edge I’d love to jump on!”

  I nodded, feeling my cheeks blush with anticipation and lust as I grabbed Cali’s hand again to lead her back to find our evening’s prospects.

  I was thankful the pimply-faced guy had already been booted by the time we returned.

  Randy’s eyes lit up a little when he noticed us walking toward him. He slid his arm around my waist and hugged me close to him as he handed me a fresh beer. “Having fun?” His silky, deep voice tingled in my ear while he whispered, sending goosebumps down my neck and arms.

  Trying to be as sexy as I could, not really being the best flirt and so nervous to come off as an awkward freshman, I licked the top of the bottle a little, before taking a long swig, and then nodded. “Yeah, tonight’s been great!”

  Randy hugged me close again, a smile dangling on the corners of his mouth. Faintly a hint of red dusted over the back of his neck. Seeing the slight red creep over Randy’s skin made longing surge through my body. Right then I knew I was in deep water already.

  Toward the end of the night, another one of the brothers came over to introduce a brand new pledge to Walker, claiming that he was his perfect match for a little brother. The five of us all got along like we had known each other for years. The conversation flowed easily between all of us, and we stayed together, laughing and joking for the rest of the evening. Mitch Katz was a freshman, just like Cali and me, and pretty outgoing. When he went to shake Randy’s hand, I noticed a sleeve inked into Mitch’s arm. Could these guys get any hotter?

  Starting to slur his words making his southern accent that much thicker, Walker leaned over to put his arm around Randy’s shoulder. “What do you say we all get the heck outta here?” He had a devilish grin on his face as he winked at Cali, making both of us blush.

  The rest of us agreed and made our way to the parking lot. Randy grabbed my hand once we made it out the door, leading me to his truck. “Race ya home, Walker!”

  1

  My college years were a blur of studying and partying. The only thing I can say held any significance was meeting Randy, the fraternity guy with the great smile. Meeting him lifted me off the ground in an instant. And just as quickly, I crashed back down to earth the day I found out he hadn't held up his end of the bargain. I never realized “until death” would come before kids and old age for us.

  I always knew his choice to join the military would be difficult for me. When his unit was called, Randall McManus was whisked away from me only two short months after our vows were said. He took so much pride in his status as a paratrooper that I knew he was meant for greatness. His head was held a little higher after he enlisted two days after he graduated from college.

  For what felt like forever after Randy died, I was not awake. I simply went through the bare, basic motions of life. Friends and family would stop by to make sure I was taking care of myself from time to time. My mom did most of my grocery shopping, and even got so fed up with my lack of cleanliness that she broke down and hired a maid. Work continued to be the only venture into normalcy I could stomach. Most people stopped calling, texting or stopping by. It’s sad to say, but I was happier being left alone. I couldn’t handle being bothered, constantly reminded of my ‘sad situation’ and a continuing source of pity.

  Walker was my most frequent visitor, pretty much like clockwork. Every Sunday at noon, I expected to see his bright green eyes light up when I opened my door. He was going through his own process of grief and loss. I think he needed the company as much as I did.

  Walker Eastman was Randy's right hand man ever since they pledged their fraternity. He was even overseas with Randy when the military-deemed-accident had happened. There were some faulty cables that snapped when the parachute tried to open. Needless to say, there was no condolence letter good enough from the military to cool my anger and sorrow. All of us came hurtling down to earth that day. Walker was the only one who
never said the wrong thing, or pressured me into talking. I welcomed his company warmly, to my surprise. Mostly we just sat, drank coffee and watched TV; simple yet perfect.

  When I finally coaxed my eyes to open, I read eleven-thirty on my alarm clock and sighed, looking at all of the pamphlets from all of the different organizations supposed to help me with my grief. I rolled my eyes and shoved them out of my mind, allowing myself to ignore them for a little bit longer. Knowing Walker would be showing up sooner than I wanted, I fought through my down comforter to find my phone. Maybe he won't mind missing one visit. I really was not in the mood for cheering up that morning.

  Once my phone was finally in my hand, I fumbled through my contacts, clicking on his name. Before I could even rethink the call, Walker was on the other end declining my suggestion for a rain check. Right as I started to protest, I heard my front door slam shut. He hung up as he entered my room, his brawny arms carrying a box of donuts and coffee. I couldn't help but smile, a little relieved Walker was just as stubborn as I was.

  I felt like it was the first time I’d truly opened my eyes in weeks and to my horror, I realized how disheveled I looked, and how messy my room was. My baby blue carpet was almost entirely hidden under dirty clothes. My makeup lined up on top of the dresser was a huge mess and I hadn’t even made it out of my bed yet. I was wrapped up in the covers with all the pillows thrown on the floor. Randy always made fun of me for being a ‘pillow tosser’ in my sleep. I wasn’t even allowed to have beverages on my nightstand for fear of knocking them off in the middle of the night.

  I cringed with shame from the mess and my wretched appearance, "Walker, I'm not even dressed. I'm sure I look like hell!” I shrieked, diving back under my blanket. I was in one of Randy’s old Army shirts, and basketball shorts, makeup still on from the night before and smudged all over my eyes. My dark-brown hair must have looked like a lion’s mane, a tangled mess. I felt it, half-matted to the side of my face.

  I could hear Walker’s deep southern drawl through the comforter, "Come on Mags, I've seen you at your worst. Trust me, you look like an angel compared to a few months ago."

  The time Walker referred to were our darkest hours that we were just starting to break away from. The few months prior were riddled with sleepless nights and bedridden days; we were both walking dead. During that terrible stint, we spent a lot of time holding onto each other for dear life, like it was the only thing keeping our world from shattering around us.

  He climbed onto the foot of my king-sized bed, handed me my black coffee and set out the food carefully. "How about breakfast in bed and a movie?" He pulled Almost Famous out of his jacket pocket and tossed me a smirk. The smell of the bitter coffee made my mood lift a little, and I peeked out from under my blankets. There is no way I can turn down that smile, my favorite movie, and breakfast bribery.

  "How could I say no to an offer like that?" I jumped out of my bed, tousled my hair a little, attempting to tame it slightly, and put all of the pillows back onto the bed while Walker started the movie and threw his black leather jacket onto the floor.

  We climbed under the covers, cuddling down to have an awesome breakfast with good company. Walker’s shoulder cradled my head as I slurped coffee from the plastic lid, and let my eyes wander over his muscular, tattooed arms. I had been with him and Randy for almost every one of their ink sessions. I could only imagine the swallows on Walker’s chiseled chest that he gotten about a month after we met. He was handsome, tall and had an erotic stare that could make any girl wet within seconds. I never knew why he just jumped around from girl to girl, not even able to define monogamy. Randy always said being promiscuous was just in Walker’s nature, and I never questioned it further.

  It was comforting to have someone fill the other side of the bed. We watched the movie, reciting every line, and munched away on the glazed treats. When the credits started to roll, Walker pulled me to him tighter; he could always tell when the tears were about to start. I breathed in his mix of salty tears and men's cologne, a smell that had become a little too comforting to me recently. We lay silently while the credits played out, the movie soundtrack hushed in the background of our embrace.

  When the room went silent, I buried my face into Walker’s chest a little harder, "You'll never know how much it means to me that you come here every week," I choked, unable to contain my emotions any longer. His thumb battled the tears cascading down my exposed cheek.

  Walker’s big green eyes were soft, a look rarely seen from the hard-ass-country-boy. Knowing that made his kind face and words mean so much more to me. "I'll never miss our Sunday tradition. It's the best part of my week. You still don't know how much it helps me too."

  The sincerity of his words spread over Walker’s face, and again, he stunned me. His chiseled jaw line, jet black hair, and olive skin made his light eyes stand out, and when he was vulnerable to emotion, it made everything that much more handsome.

  I knew our time was going to get cut short because of my Father-in-law, Jim’s, birthday party that evening. Walker had promised Liz, my mother-in-law, that he would help her with the planning and getting everything prepared, but I was not ready for Walker to pull away as quickly as he did. Breaking our lingering stare, Walker looked over to my clock on my nightstand. "Mags, I got to head out. Liz needs me to pick the cake up for Jim's party tonight …”

  Trailing off, I watched his eyes scan over the pamphlets scattered next to my clock. Picking a few up, he turned to me with concern and frustration spreading like wild fire across his face, his green eyes darkening and his jaw flexing, burning away the loving glare I was enjoying so much. “Mags.” He sighed and shook his head for a moment. “You promised.”

  I gaped at him, taking the pamphlets out of his hand. I looked down at a few terrible titles like, ‘How to Cope with the Loss of a Spouse’ and ‘It’s Okay to Grieve,’ suddenly feeling like I was going to lose my breakfast. I took the lot of them and shoved them away in the drawer of my nightstand. “Yeah, I know … but I just want to do this on my own. Don’t worry, I set up an appointment with someone.” I faked a smile, and it seemed like enough of an answer for Walker.

  He stood up and stretched. “Alright, as long as you’re taking care of yourself, I’m happy. See you tonight?”

  Trying to push away my frustration, I let my mind wander back to our relaxing morning. "Tell Liz I'll be there at eight, unless she needs help with anything."

  "Okay, I'll let her know." And with a quick kiss to my forehead, he was out the door. I hated watching anyone walk away from me. Being alive was hard enough, but alone, it was almost unbearable. As Walker shut my front door, I curled up in a ball on my bed and let hot tears pour again from my aching eyes. The thought of having to spend time with a large group of people that night was almost too overwhelming. I longed to run away and hide from life for the rest of the day. It was a terrible coping mechanism I had developed, but it was effective. I cried harder when I figured there was no escape from our plans, and buried my face deep into my pillow.

  Randy grew up down the street from where we ended up purchasing our home. He always said family needed to be close for when our kids were growing up. Now, silently I thanked him for forcing me into this house five minutes from the in-laws, because I needed them as a different type of support system than expected. The City of Orlando had really turned into home for me. My heart died there, and I was determined to revive it there eventually. It was what Randy would have wanted. He would have been so happy to know my mom moved here to help take care of me, and that Walker had stayed, too. "A support system is important, Mags. It doesn’t always have to be you against the world, ya know."

  My phone buzzed in my hand, bringing me back from my pity party and daydreams of my husband. I looked down to find a message from my mother-in-law, Liz:

  Don't worry; Walker and I are taking care of everything. See you at eight.

  I sighed, rubbed my eyes and dragged myself out of bed. The clock said six, and even
though I could walk to their house, I figured I need the extra time to start putting effort in my appearance since it had been so long since I cared what I looked like. I made my way into the bathroom and let the water start to get boiling hot while I sat on the toilet, waiting.

  My mind tripped back to my amazing in-laws, and how important they had become to me, especially with the terrible situation we found ourselves in. Liz and Jim McManus had been more than just in-laws to me ever since Randy and I first started dating, and I owed it to them to put on a brave face. Even though they lost their son, they had been instrumental in bringing me through my grief that I worried they didn’t get the chance they deserved to grieve themselves. The shame made it difficult to even look into their eyes most of the time. It was unbearable to walk around with all the different forms of guilt inside me. I knew I had to get better for everyone’s sake. Today can be the beginning of a brand new start.

  As I got into the shower I could hear Randy's voice. "I married one hell of a woman, you know that, baby?" I smirked as I massaged shampoo into my scalp. Those are the memories I never got used to being reminded of. All of the little things he would to do to make sure I knew he loved me, that he belonged to me. I wished I had told him more how much they meant, how much he meant to me. I miss you so much it hurts. The hot water rushed over my pink skin, while steam floated out over the curtain. I stood, holding myself, letting the water run over my body for a few moments, before mustering up the courage to step onto the cold tile floor.

  Without even drying myself, I tossed my hair up in one towel and then wrapped another around my dripping body. Looking in the mirror over my sink, I was disgusted at the black, puffy circles around my eyes, and how hollow my cheek bones were.

  Skulking back into my room, shuffling my feet along my fluffy carpet, I grabbed my makeup and turned on my flat iron. I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the closet door mirror and began to apply eyeliner. This had become a habit from the first time I slept over at Randy's room in the fraternity house. I would always take my shower first, and while I got ready, Randy would wash up. The only place for me to be able to do my primping was on his floor, sitting Indian-style in front of a full-length mirror propped up against the wall Randy bought for me after I complained about not being able to do makeup in a fogged-up mirror.