Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Michael: Do you still like Frutti Pebbles?
Fallon: It’s spelled Fruity Pebbles, and why do you want to know?
Ever since the conversation with Mom, I’d been having trouble sleeping, so getting a text from Michael was welcome, even if it was after midnight.
Michael: How about reality TV shows. Do you still like those?
Fallon: I only like the ones where the people aren’t too stupid to live.
I didn’t see any bubbles for a long moment.
Michael: So, I guess you’re not watching many these days?
Fallon: Does the Great British Baking Show count? I love that.
Michael: You bake?
Fallon: No, but I love the show. I’ve even gone back and re-watched episodes. Do you still like watching things that explode?
Again, I didn’t see any bubbles for a long moment.
Michael: My time in the Army cured me of that.
Shit. I should have guessed that. I twirled my hair until it pulled at my scalp.
Michael: Are you still there?
Fallon: Yeah. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I asked that question. It’s just hard to think of you ever having been a soldier. That was never something that was on your radar, back when you and I were together.
Michael: Things change.
Bubbles.
Michael: People change.
Fallon: Isn’t that the truth. Are you comfortable talking about your time in the service?
Michael: With certain people. You would be okay.
It felt like a treasure chest had been opened up just for me.
Fallon: Anytime, Michael. I’m here for you.
And I meant it. I truly meant it. This was the man I’d fallen in love with. The man who had been my best friend. Of course, I would be here for him.
Michael: After my stint in the Rangers, I wanted to come home. I’d seen enough, lost enough. Nothing as bad as losing you, though.
Fallon: Again, if you want to get together and talk, name the time and place.
Michael: I will.
It was time for something lighter.
Fallon: So do you watch any reality shows? The Bachelor? The Bachelorette? Real Housewives?
Michael: Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. I am proud to say that I have been to five of the dives.
I snorted.
Fallon: You always did have a cast-iron stomach.
Michael: Yeah, but now I know how to cook.
Fallon: You do? I don’t believe it.
Michael: At the firehouse all of us take turns cooking. I’d be strung up by my entrails if I fed the folks crap, so I had to practice before I cooked, and make sure it was good.
Fallon: I’m surprised you didn’t have your mom cook something and then try to pass it off as your own.
Michael: I thought about it, but everybody wanders into the kitchen while you’re cooking, so that wouldn’t have worked. Instead, I had to take cooking lessons from Mom. They like my chicken fried steak and gravy the best.
Fallon: If you cook it like your mom does, I can understand why.
Michael: When can I see you again?
I should have expected that question. Dammit. Why hadn’t I?
Fallon: Mom’s arthritis has been really bad the last couple of days. I need to get her in to see her rheumatologist. Mom isn’t on any of the normal drugs for her disease and it’s pissing me off. If this doctor won’t help her, I’m going to find someone else. And one of our programmers quit, so I’ve got to find a replacement fast. We’re already maxing out on overtime.
Michael: In other words, now isn’t a good time.
Fallon: I promise, I’m not making excuses.
Michael: I didn’t think you were. How’s your dad? While you’re taking your mom to the doctor, does he need some company?
Fallon: You’d do that?
Michael: Fallon, haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m here for you this time. I’m not going to fuck things up.
That hurt. It hurt a lot. I didn’t come back to Jasper Creek to hope. Hope was bad. For both of us.
Michael: Are you there?
Fallon: Yes.
Michael: Are you going to say something?
Fallon: Eventually.
I closed my eyes and pressed my cell phone next to my heart and figured out an answer.
Fallon: Yeah, Dad could use some company, but please don’t get your hopes up, Michael. I don’t want you hurt.
Michael: I love your heart. You have the kindest heart in the world. If I get hurt, it’s only what I deserve. But you? I promise you, I will never hurt you again. I promise you that on my life. Good night, Sunshine.
I set my phone on the nightstand and scooched down under the covers.
This time, sleep came easily.
I listened as the technician from Ace Alarm went over the operating instructions of the system with my mom and dad. Luckily, it all seemed fairly straightforward.
“Eric, are you sure we need this?” my mom asked Dad.
“I need you to trust me on this.”
I watched as she took a moment to assess him. She opened her mouth, then closed it. I was pretty sure the jig was up.
Dad moved closer to Mom and reached for her hand. “Lana, you still don’t want to get a dog since Jefferson died and we only watch Harley every so often when Michael is on shift. I’m gone from home enough to where I’ll feel more comfortable with us having an alarm system. Humor me, okay?” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
Even after all these years, I watched as she melted.
“Okay, honey. If it will make you feel better, then absolutely it’s worth it.”
Dad put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head against his chest. The technician looked over at me and smiled.
That was exactly what I wanted. And I wanted it with Fallon.
“Do you want me to go over the settings again?” The technician asked.
My mom stepped forward and set the alarm with no problem. All of us grinned. “I guess you have it down pat, Mrs. Rankin,” the technician grinned again.
“That’s my wife. She’s whip smart.”
The technician left, and Mom went into the kitchen to put together the shrimp salads she’d promised us for lunch.
“That was a close one,” my dad whispered.
“She knows something's up,” I responded.
“Yeah, but she’s not going to ask, thank God. I would hate for her to worry about your biological father coming after us, or especially you. It would kill her.”
“And that’s why Simon and Roan are on this case.”
Dad stood taller. “I’ve signed a contract with Onyx. I want your bio dad found and prosecuted. I want this horseshit to stop.”
“And they’re just the men to do it.”
Dad nodded in agreement.
“Food’s up,” Mom called from the dining room.
It was a pain in the fucking ass to have only the Avery sisters as my friends here in town. Used to be I could call almost every person in Jasper Creek a friend of mine.
Quit your whining, Vickers!
I looked at the two dogwood trees Mom had ordered and were just delivered. They were almost as tall as me. They were gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. But how in ever-loving hell was I ever going to lift them to the spot where Mom wanted them planted? I mean, the delivery guys had been nice enough to put them in the backyard, but already Mom has changed her mind twice where she wanted them to end up.
“Fallon, I really think they should go over there, don’t you think so?”
Holding in all my frustration, I just nodded. What was the point of either fully agreeing or disagreeing, since she was just going to change her mind in ten minutes anyway?
“Have you got any ideas about who is going to help plant these?” I asked.
“Oh, you and Michael can handle this, can’t you?”
I pushed at the wooden box that the trees had arrived in with the toe of my sneaker. It didn’t budge. Not a smidgeon. “Uhm, I don’t think so, Mom.”
“But they’re still babies. I didn’t buy the biggest ones on the internet. These were the medium-sized ones.”
For the love of God.
“Mom, why don’t you take some time deciding where to plant these, and I’ll give Michael and Maddie a call, okay? We might have to wait until the weekend to get them planted.”
“That can’t be good for them. I’m sure I read where they needed to be planted as soon as they arrived.”
I watched as my mom’s hands fluttered in front of her chest, a sure sign of her agitation.
“Mom, think about—” I stopped myself. What was going to come out of my mouth was the same patronizing shit that always came out of Dad’s mouth.
“Mom, I don’t think that’s right. Are you sure you read that? I mean, after all, haven’t they been in these wooden boxes a long time?” I kept my tone easy and upbeat.
“Oh, you’re right.” She smiled at me. “Okay, you make your calls. I’m going to find the perfect spots.”
I turned to find some shade near the back porch.
“Fallon. Do you think maybe they would do better on the side of the house?”
I looked up at the sky.
Please God, give me strength.
“Mom, this is up to you. I know you’ll make the right decision.”
I walked around the house to make my calls from the front porch. I called Maddie first, but it went through to her voicemail. Then I called her older sister, Trenda.
“Hey, Fallon. I was hoping you would call. I was hoping we could do lunch sometime.”
“That would be great.”
“It’s a date. Are you calling to catch up, or is there something I can do for you?”
“I’ve got a problem. My mom bought two rather large trees that were delivered today, and she wants them planted in the backyard or the side yard. She hasn’t decided yet. I was wondering if you knew anybody who might help with this.”
“My husband, Simon, isn’t working this weekend. He could ask Roan if he could come over as well. Would that work?”
“That would be wonderful. But then I would be stuck with endless conversations on the best spot to plant the trees. And I mean endless .”
Trenda snorted. “I could see that with your mother. I’ve run into her in the grocery store more than once. I’ve been asked my opinion many times on which apple or orange or piece of meat she should purchase. I hate to admit this to you, Fallon, but these days, I hide when I see her.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s priceless.”
“Maddie mentioned Michael seems to be in your orbit lately. I bet he could gather up some of those hunky firefighters to come plant her trees for you.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure they’re on duty,” I mumbled.
“They take shifts. If Michael isn’t working, he should be able to wrangle up some others. Call him. He deals with emergencies for a living. He’ll understand.”
I gave a rueful laugh.
“What are you doing on Thursday?” I asked to change the subject.
“Having lunch with you?” Trenda answered.
“You got it in one,” I smiled.