CHAPTER FIVE FALLON #2
Papa—or Kordell to everyone else—chimes in, his deep chocolate eyes filling with tears.
“But you can’t keep living like this, Fallon.
We can see the stress you’ve taken on. The renovations alone are too much, and we know that the cabins aren’t doing well.
” According to my dads, the two of them met in college.
.. at church, where they were good boys who never did anything bad and waited until they were married to engage in anything sexual.
The real story, from what Sully has told me, is that Dad met Papa at a gay bar in college.
They bonded over how they were both wearing fishnet shirts and their nipples kept poking out.
Ever since that magical beginning, they’ve been inseparable, and Papa has been a solid sounding board for Dad as he navigates through Sully’s health.
“Wait... the cabins aren’t doing well? What are you talking about?” I ask as Papa’s words sink in.
My dads exchange a glance, and when they look back at me, I can see it in their faces, the bad news that’s coming.
“Since we’ve been managing the finances for Sully, we’ve noticed there haven’t been many bookings at the Cove recently. It’s been hard to pay the mortgage and your paychecks.” Papa gives me an apologetic look. “We’ve been paying you from our personal account.”
“What?” I ask, sitting up. “You’ve been giving me money?”
“There isn’t enough money in the Cove bank account to pay you a decent wage, Fallon,” Dad says. “You need to make a living somehow.”
“Not with your hard-earned money,” I protest. “We can stop renovations, save some money until we get more reservations.”
“You and I both know you’re not going to get bookings when you’re still in the middle of renovations, not with the vacation properties taking over.” Why does Papa have to make so much sense?
“We just got a long-term booking this weekend. Guy who’s staying for a few weeks.” It’s measly cash compared to a sold-out facility, but it’s something.
“Just one?” Dad asks.
“Yes, but that’s better than none.”
“Fallon, I know that you want to hold on to this, keep the cabins going for Sully, but there comes a time when you need to face reality. This isn’t working.
You’re young, you have a life with Peter, and I think it’s time we sell the cabins so you can come back to Palm Springs to live your life again. ”
I look away from them.
How could they possibly even consider selling the cabins?
This is where I grew up during the summers.
This is where I’ve had some of the best memories of my life.
This is where Sully’s life is.
I can’t imagine just... giving up because things are tough. Not only would that destroy Sully, but it would absolutely gut me. I came up here for a reason. To carry on the legacy that my grandparents built together.
I shake my head. “No, we are not selling. We aren’t going to let someone else take over the Cove. This is our home, just as much as it is Sully’s.”
“You might not have a choice,” Dad says. “If we can’t pay the bills, we’re going to have to sell.”
Panic rips through me. They’re serious. Of course they’re serious; they wouldn’t bring it up if they weren’t. Which means... we’re in a lot of trouble.
“Just, give me a few weeks, okay?” I plead.
“We just got done papering the walls in the lobby. We’re coming along with renovations.
” They give me a look that says they don’t believe a word, and, yeah, maybe we aren’t coming along, but I don’t need to admit that.
“I have some things to do around the cabins, and then I’ll have Jaz take professional pictures of the place so we can roll out the new website.
Just... trust me. I can bring Sully’s vision to reality. ”
“While taking care of him?” Papa asks.
“The town is helping with that. I have more hands on deck than you think,” I say. “Please, please don’t take this away from me yet, okay? I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try to see this through, give it my best shot.”
Dad sighs. “We need more reservations, and we need them quickly.”
“I know. The new long-term guest will be helpful, and, uh, we’ll work on the others. Just give me a few weeks—I promise I’ll turn this around.”
“I don’t like this for you,” Papa says. “I want you to be happy. I want you to live your life.”
“This makes me happy,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes.
“This is my life. I made a commitment when I decided to move up here. And I made a promise to Grandma Joan. I was going to take care of Sully, through thick and thin. Just because we’re hitting a bit of a roadblock doesn’t mean we give up. Please, just a few more weeks.”
Papa nods. “Okay, Fallon. But you promise you’ll tell us if it’s too much?”
Thank God. That’s all I need, a few more weeks. I can get this done. I know I can.
“I promise.”
“And we plan on coming up there soon. We have some meetings down here in Palm Springs, but we want to see our little girl. We miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I say. I glance toward the doorway, where Peter is leaning against the woodwork. “Hey, I’m going to take off. Peter’s here, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can before he has to leave again.”
“Don’t let us keep you. Tell that boy we said hi and that we miss him.”
I turn the phone toward Peter, and he lifts his hand in their direction. “Izaak, Kordell, good seeing you. Let’s plan for a lunch sometime soon. We can chat about the girl we love.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dad says. I turn the phone back, and he says, “Fallon, he is such a catch.”
I roll my eyes. “He can still hear you.”
“I know.”
I blow them kisses. “I love you, talk soon.”
When I hang up, I drop the phone on the bed and lean back on the mattress. Peter comes up to me and places his hands on either side of my face, leaning down. “Did you hear what I said?”
I play with the collar of his shirt. “That you love me?”
Oh, I heard it.
And I heard it the first time he said it.
The second.
And all the other times he’s said it as well.
And it is always followed by my awkward silence.
Because for some reason, I can’t find it within me to say it back.
I don’t know why.
I’m not sure if it’s because I’m stressed, because I’m still skeptical that he’ll wait around for me, or because I’m just trying not to get my heart broken, but I can’t seem to muster up the proper response.
“Yeah, that.”
I smooth my hand over his face. “I did. It was very sweet.”
And just like every other time I don’t utter those three little words back to him, his face falls and it rips me in half, seeing that I can hurt him like that. He leans down and presses a kiss to my nose. “I’m going to take a shower. Sully’s getting ready for bed.”
“Okay. Thank you. I’ll get him in bed, and then we can maybe hang out on the balcony, play some cards?” I ask, feeling awkward.
He nods. “I’d like that.”
With that, he takes off. I stare up at the ceiling for a few moments, unable to move, my thoughts racing.
How on earth am I going to get these renovations done?
Bring in more people to the cabins?
It’s been an uphill battle for Sully ever since Vrbo and Airbnb became so popular. Small mom-and-pop places like the Cove have taken a huge hit, while vacation homes have rocketed to the top.
I can remember when this place was in its heyday.
Sully and Grandma Joan had a weekly schedule of activities.
Candle making, guided hikes, basket weaving, and horseshoe tournaments—and that’s not even scratching the surface.
I can’t remember the last time I heard the clank of a horseshoe hitting a throwing target.
Slowly, over time, the activities faded away, the late-night storytelling around the campfire ended, s’mores night no longer existed, and then the business started to diminish, just like Sully’s health.
And I can pinpoint the moment activities and the magical feeling of the cabins began to fade—it was when Grandma Joan caught pneumonia.
She passed away soon after, and Sully never recovered from the loss.
As he became consumed with mourning her death, the landscaping started to overgrow, the paint started to chip on the moldings, and, before we knew it, the pristine cabins that were once a coveted travel destination fell to the wayside.
And then he became sick, losing memories and pieces of himself, falling into his own state of disrepair—unable to execute the renovations and plans he’d laid out in his notebook.
That’s when I stepped in. When the Alzheimer’s diagnosis came, I lay in my bed in my Palm Springs apartment and made the decision to help.
To give up my career to be there for the man who’d given me a beautiful escape when I was a child.
After we buried Grandma Joan, I stood at her grave and told her that no matter what, I would take care of him for her.
I would take care of their legacy. I stared up at the ceiling and said goodbye to my life in Palm Springs, realizing it was time to make good on that promise.
I owe it to him, and to Grandma Joan, to bring this place back. To make it better than before. And if it means killing myself over the renovations to make it happen, then I’ll do it.
Canoodle Cove Cabins will be restored to its former glory, even if it means giving up everything to make it happen.