Chapter Eighteen #3
“You sure?” Nora grinned, sticking her head out. Fallon’s face was flushed, and she suspected it wasn’t the heat of the water. “Don’t you want to wash my back?”
Fallon groaned. “Nora, you can’t tease me like this.”
“Why not? We’ve been naked together before, you know.”
Grabbing a towel, Fallon wiped her face before holding it ineffectively over her body. “Yeah, but I can’t do anything about it right now, and that’s just not fair.”
“But you would?” Nora cringed at the hopeful note in her own voice.
“Nora,” Fallon pleaded. “Let’s talk about that when the time comes.”
“I’ll remind you once that sling comes off.” She finished bathing and stepped out of the shower, only to find Fallon holding her towel. “Thanks,” Nora said, reaching for it.
Fallon dangled it just out of her grasp, her eyes moving slowly up and down Nora’s body. “You won’t have to remind me.”
Nora gave her a sexy smile. She could hardly wait.
* * *
After her father’s second appointment, her mother admitted that she and Anita hadn’t been able to get him to do the exercises at home.
Fallon volunteered to take on the task of getting him up and moving on days he didn’t have therapy.
“It’ll be good for me too,” she said, moving restlessly.
“I’m getting stiff on these injured joints. ”
They gave him a day to recuperate, then Fallon let him digest his breakfast before she sat across from him. “How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Palmer?”
“Same. You?”
Nora had thought his recent tendency to give the briefest possible answer was just his increasingly cranky personality, but now she wondered if it had been a precursor to his disorder. His slur was less obvious with fewer words.
“I think I might be feeling a little better,” Fallon said. “Maybe a walk would do me good. Nora tells me you have one of those 36-inch Husqvarna 592XP chainsaws. I was wondering if you might show it to me.”
He gestured toward her shoulder, his hand still trembling. “You couldn’t even lift it.”
She smiled. “You’re probably right. And I guess you shouldn’t, either.”
“I goddamn well can.” He began floundering in his chair. “Nora, help me up.”
Nora trailed them from a few feet away, ready to catch either of them should they fall.
The pace was exceedingly slow, and once they’d arrived, Fallon had to remind him why they were there.
But after that, he walked right to the chainsaw in question.
Nora grabbed it before he could try, showing the large bar to Fallon while her father stood by proudly.
“My daughter could handle that monster every bit as well as her brothers.”
What? Did I hear that right?
“I don’t doubt it,” Fallon said, smiling at Nora. “She was undeniably the best sawyer at camp. You taught her well.”
“She loved it, I could tell. Gave those boys a run for their money. But then, you know, she got her monthly visitor, and that was that.”
Nora couldn’t hide her shock. Gaping at her father, she said, “Is that why you wouldn’t let me work out here with you and the boys anymore? Because I got my period?”
He colored slightly. “That was your mother’s doing.
She said it wasn’t proper, given your delicate condition.
I went along. What did I know about it?” She stared at him, speechless, remembering how that abrupt displacement had felt like a rebuff.
It’d made her vulnerable to her mother’s single-minded efforts to replace her “tomboy ways” with the looks and behavior she considered essential for a young woman.
Nora had never considered how her eventual rejection of her mother’s directives must have felt just as personal.
The rift between them had become more impassible every year, until there simply was no connection. Did that mean there never would be?
“Oh hey,” Fallon said, clearly trying to interrupt the moment. “Did I tell you Maris called?”
“Who’s Maris?” Nora’s dad asked.
“Someone Nora met when we were doing mitigation for the Kamberto fire. I don’t think you know her.” Throwing Nora a look, she added, “Thanks for showing me that great saw. I guess we should get back to the house.”
Absently, Nora put the Husqvarna in its place.
She trailed the two of them again, shaking her head at the odd piece that had fallen into place in the puzzle of her childhood.
All this time, she’d blamed her father for inexplicitly spurning her, but it was her mother who had changed her life.
After pulling Nora away from what she’d learned to love, based on outdated notions about what a young woman should spend her time doing, her mother had given her nothing but platitudes about fashion and societal expectations to mend her bruised heart.
Nora’s world was never the same, and neither was her relationship with either parent.
It might take some time for her to adjust, but maybe there was a chance for healing for all of them?
While her mother and Anita drove her father to a doctor’s appointment the next day, Nora and Fallon ran errands, visiting the hardware and grocery stores.
Before heading home, Nora stopped by the local pot shop.
At Fallon’s questioning glance, Nora said, “I looked into it last night. CBD oil helps with inflammation and pain. You’re not in Firecamp at the moment, and I think you should try it. ”
“It won’t make me high, will it?” Fallon asked. “I need all the self-control I can get.”
Nora liked what that suggested, but she only shrugged. “It won’t, or that’s what I’ve heard. I guess you’ll have to let me know.”
She’d made sure Fallon took ibuprofen after dinner, thinking it should work well in conjunction with the CBD.
But as Nora opened the jar of salve that night after Fallon had gotten into bed, she could see the tension on her face and practically feel anxiety radiating off her body. “What’s the matter?”
Fallon didn’t meet her eyes. “I…I bet you must be ready for me to get better so I can go back to work, and you can too.”
Nora stopped her preparation. “Is that what you think?”
“Well, I just showed up here, and I’ve been taking advantage of your hospitality, plus you’ve had to do a lot of things to help me, so…yeah.”
Sitting in her chair, Nora looked out the window.
Ten years ago, her impulse would have been to sharply question how Fallon had arrived at such a ridiculous supposition.
But from photography assignments with unwilling or uncomfortable subjects, she’d learned that offering a redirect, jumping to a different topic, usually got better results. “What’s your middle name?” she asked.
“My…my middle name?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, it’s Quinn. My mom told me it was my father’s mother’s maiden name.”
“That’s nice. Did you ever meet her?”
“Oh no. She died before I was born.”
“I see. Mine’s Kaye. Like the letter but spelled out.”
“I know. I looked at your records once when I was working in Reva’s office.”
Nora laughed. “You did?” Fallon nodded. “When was this?”
Fallon fidgeted, her obvious uneasiness returning. “About a year after you were gone.” She swallowed. “Where does Kaye come from?”
“They asked for my name at the hospital, and my mom said she was trying to tell them ‘Nora Jane,’ but she’d been drugged, and they misunderstood. She could have fixed it later but decided she liked Kaye better.”
They were quiet for a moment. Nora held up the jar. “Let’s take your shirt off.”
Fallon offered a slight smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
The shoulder injury made it impossible for Fallon to wear a bra, something Nora had been aware of since the first moment she’d arrived.
Leaning into Fallon’s chest that first afternoon, she’d enjoyed the incredible softness of her unconstrained breasts.
Last night, Fallon had slept in the same oxford shirt with the left sleeve cut to allow her to get it on or off without raising her arm, but for tonight, she’d laid out a tank top.
As Nora worked the buttons open, she felt Fallon tremble. “I’m going to try very hard not to make things worse.”
Fallon inclined her head, her voice steady. “That’s the best I can ask for.”