I/P ✦ Omaha

Quite A Fall | Taylor Caniff

It was the week before Christmas, and my boyfriend Taylor and I had went back to my hometown to spend the holidays with my family. My parents loved Taylor--they loved how he treated me, and how exciting and adventurous he was. My dad also admired all of Taylor's many vehicles.

I sat perched up by the window I always use to sit at. When I was younger I would always sit here and day dream about what the future had to offer. I would sit here for hours completely lost and compelled in my own world.

"Babe," a voice said causing me to jump. I turned around and saw Taylor walking into my room. "What'cha doing?" He asked wrapping his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on the top of my head due to our incredible height difference.

"Nothing," I smiled softly. We stood there silently and watching out the window as snow would fall gently to the ground. The sidewalks and all of the grass were blanketed by glistening snow. Everything seemed so calm, and placid. I had missed this place--sounds of hundreds of cars didn't fill the air, and the roads weren't busy and hectic like they were where I had lived presently.

"Your dad asked me to help him hang some lights up," he said, breaking the calm gentleness that floated throughout the room. I stood there without a word and finally looked up at him.

 "I'll apologize in advance for any lecture or speech he tries to give you," I sighed. He chuckled and kissed my cheek. "I'm serious," I smiled.

"I'll be okay," he kissed my nose and walked out of my room leaving me alone. I was so thankful for him and everything that he had ever done for me, and every time I saw him smile or heard him laugh I realized how much more he means to me. I smiled at the thought of him--he made me that happy. 

I waited a few minutes and walked down the old wooden stairs that creaked with each step. The Christmas tree was up and it dazzled beautifully. It was the same tree I would help mom put up when I was a kid, and I always loved how big it was. I walked into the kitchen knowing my mom would be there and I found her at the table reading a magazine. "Hey, mom," I said sitting down in a chair across from her. She smiled and looked up at me. "I feel like I should be concerned that Taylor is helping dad hang up lights. You know how dad gets sometimes..."

She laughed gently and closed her magazine. "Your dad likes him, he's not going to try to scare him off. Besides this is good for the two of them--there's nothing like decorating the house together, right? Since your brother moved out your father hasn't done it as much. He can't seem to do it anymore by himself with his growing age, and I'm not getting myself up on that roof."

I grinned and folded my hands together. "I guess you're right."

We talked for a little while. She asked about how life was now that I was moved halfway across the country, and how Taylor was doing. I complimented the new kitchen renovation, and she told me stories about the women at work. My mom always loved a good conversation, and I always prefered to listen. I could hear the boys walking around the roof and I was wondering what they could possibly be talking about. Was my dad giving him some lame speech? Were they sharing embarrasing stories of me? Oh god, dad please don't tell him about the night of my eighth grade dance.

I hear someone yell and I looked around. "What was that?" I asked my mom. She shrugged and I looked out of the kitchen window. I didn't see anything. I looked out the back door and saw Taylor lying in the snow gripping his arm. My eyes grew wide and I ran out without even thinking. "What happened?" I asked with panic in my voice. He groaned and my dad hopped off of the ladder.

"He hit an ice patch on the roof and down he went," my dad shook his head. "You took quite a fall."

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" I asked kneeling down beside him. He nodded. "Is it broke?"

"I don't know," he said with obvious pain in his voice.

"Come on, we'll take you to the hospital." My dad helped me raise him to his feet and we walked into the kitchen. I explained to my mom what had happened and I rushed to get my coat on. We all got in the car and I sped to the E.R. "How are you feeling?" I asked him as we pulled into the parking lot.

"My arm really hurts," he frowned. My heart was racing a million miles per second, and I was afraid that he was seriously injured. We burst through the E.R. doors and got him checked in and they pulled him to the back almost immediately. He was gritting his teeth everytime he accidentally moved his arm away from his chest. I was silently panicing and I'm sure I radiated fear. One of the nurses pulled him into another room and had us go wait.

"The doctor will be in soon," the nurse told us as she walked back in with Taylor who had just finished up an X-ray. 

"Calm down," he chuckled softly.

"It could possibly be broken!" I exclaimed.

"They can always fix it," he shrugged with one good arm. I rolled my eyes and leaned my head back. Five or so minutes had passed and the door finally opened revealing the doctor with a few things in his hands.

"Good news," he said after he introduced himself. "It's not broken. You're lucky though, you're just going to have some severe bruising and it's going to be sore for awhile. When you go home keep it iced to help with the swelling." He gave us a few more tips and we went back home. I helped him up to my bedroom and he laid down in my bed.

"I'll make you an ice pack," I said going to walk out of the room.

"Wait!" Taylor called out. I walked back into the room. "It's okay, just stay in here for a little." I smiled and laid down next to him. I accidentally bumped his arm and he slightly gasped.

"I'm sorry," my eyes grew wide.

"It's okay," he laughed. "At least it's not broke. But to be honest, I don't think I want to help put lights up again anytime soon." I grinned and rolled my eyes playfully.