Chapter Eighteen #4
Nora suspected they both knew how loaded those words were.
After the shirt was off, Nora reluctantly covered Fallon’s chest with it as she lay on her uninjured side.
Gently working the fragrant salve into Fallon’s skin, Nora started at her neck and smoothed it over her collarbone before moving slowly toward the shoulder.
Fallon tensed, and Nora switched to her bicep, approaching the injury from another angle.
Using the tips of her fingers with barely any pressure, she massaged the point of Fallon’s shoulder. “Okay?”
Fallon’s eyes were closed. “You always did have a sweet touch.”
“Fallon Quinn Monroe,” Nora said softly. “Tell me one thing I’ve said or done that makes you think I want you to go.” When Fallon didn’t answer, Nora sighed. “Pull your sweats down, and I’ll put some of this on your hip.”
She complied, and Nora lightly spread the CBD on the bruise covering the ball and socket area. Fallon made a sad-sounding hum. “I don’t know if I can stand this for six weeks.”
Nora pushed. “Stand being hurt or being taken care of?” Fallon nodded. “What else?”
After another pause, Fallon answered, “I’m afraid,” her voice so low, Nora leaned forward to hear her.
“Of what?”
“Of you. Of us. Of getting close again only to find that even though it’s ten years later, we’re going to end up exactly where we were then.”
Nora took a breath. She’d asked, and Fallon had answered with the straightforward, almost raw honesty she’d always had. “I’m not the same person I was then. Are you?”
“Yes and no.”
“Nora?” Her mother’s voice drifted from downstairs. “Where are your father’s pills?”
Rolling her eyes, Nora grunted. “I practically put them in her hand an hour ago.” She stood, closing the jar. “I heard what you said, and I understand very well what you’re feeling. But I want to try, Fallon. I want us to be brave and figure it out together this time.”
Nora hadn’t really expected an answer. With a few words, she’d said a lot, and she was willing to give Fallon whatever time she needed to reflect on her reply.
Her mother called again, and she adjusted the sheet, leaving Fallon lying on her right side.
When she returned from getting her father into bed, Fallon’s breathing was deep and even.
But there was a small scrap of paper on Nora’s pillow. Okay, it said.
* * *
Two days later, at the theater, Nora made sure to sit on Fallon’s good side so they could hold hands.
She was prepared to switch sides if someone tried to take the seat next to Fallon’s injury, but not many people were at the showing, so she stayed where she was.
Nora was glad she’d already seen the movie because she could barely concentrate as Fallon’s hand tightened, caressed, or simply held hers at various times throughout the show.
During the Nobel Prize speech, she handed Fallon a Kleenex and used one herself.
Afterward, they went for ice cream that melted quickly as they enthusiastically discussed the various aspects of the plot.
What was genius? What was insanity? They even treaded carefully on the topic of what a person should do for someone they loved.
It was the best date Nora had been on in years, maybe ever.
But on the way home, Fallon was quiet. “What are you thinking?” Nora asked.
“I was considering something I left out in our discussion about what you should do for someone you love.”
Nora’s chest tightened. “What was that?”
“Forgive them. Like she did for him. No one’s perfect, though he was less so than most at times.”
“And he had to forgive her for letting them take him for treatment.”
“True,” Fallon agreed. They were almost home when she added, “And maybe the hardest thing is forgiving yourself. It seems like they both did that.”
After reaching the house, they sat for a moment, not looking at each other. Nora wanted to continue the conversation, to ask Fallon what she most wanted to know: Have you forgiven me?
But she waited too long, and Fallon sighed and climbed out of the car. Nora hurried to the front door, turning to face her before opening it. “Thank you for going tonight.”
Fallon smiled faintly. “Thank you for asking me. That’s maybe the fourth time I’ve been in a movie theater.”
Recalling Fallon’s stories of her itinerate childhood, Nora wasn’t surprised. “Did you go with a Firecamp crew?”
“Yes. Once.” Fallon was doing that thing she did with her mouth when she didn’t want to talk about something.
Nora stepped closer. “And the other times?”
“Dates,” Fallon mumbled, not looking at her.
She’d suspected as much. She took Fallon’s hand. “Like this one?”
Fallon lifted her head so they were eye to eye and smiled, something much closer to the look Nora wanted to see. “This was much better.”
Nora leaned in to kiss her cheek, careful not to push against her, even though she very much wanted to. “Just for that, I’ll put more CBD on you later.”
“Can we borrow those frozen peas again first?”
Nora delighted at the ease between them. Could this become the second chance with Fallon she’d always hoped for?