Imperfectly Perfect

Chapter 17

seventeen

The door inched open, and Brinley’s face lit up the small crack before she opened it wider. Fallon gripped the fabric grocery bag she held in her left hand tighter and plastered a smile on her lips. She didn’t want to come off like something was wrong or that she didn’t enjoy Brinley’s company. So far, she had.

“Mom said we’re cooking dinner.”

“Yeah,” Fallon answered with a light chuckle. “I tried to pick the most complicated recipe that I know.”

“Really?” Brinley’s eyes widened, the perfect match for her mom’s.

“No.” Fallon stepped inside the apartment, which was warm from the heat and from the people inside. “I thought we’d make one of my favorite dishes tonight.”

“What is it?” Brinley led the way into the small kitchen.

“You might not like it.”

Brinley frowned as she stepped into the kitchen. Fallon tried not to smile at it. She nodded toward Savannah who sat on the couch with a drink in her hand and a curious look on her face. Fallon winked before sliding into the kitchen. She didn’t bother to greet Savannah as she moved in to start their dinner.

“What is it?” Brinley asked, standing at the kitchen sink and scrubbing her hands with soap.

“It’s a fish dish, with a teriyaki twist.”

Brinley frowned, a deep furrow forming on her forehead before she shrugged. “I’ll try it.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Fallon set the bag onto the counter and pulled out the items one by one. “Will you grab the cheese grater?”

Brinley dug around in a cabinet while Fallon washed her hands and the vegetables. By the time Brinley popped back up, Fallon set her up to grate the carrots and put them into a casserole dish. Stepping out of the kitchen, Fallon finally did what she’d wanted to do.

Walking right over to Savannah, she bent down and pressed their mouths together. She swiped her tongue out and along Savannah’s lower lip, digging her fingers into Savannah’s hair and holding her steady. Savannah melted underneath her. She moaned lightly, a sound that Fallon had quickly become addicted to.

“It’ll be about forty-five minutes before dinner is ready,” Fallon whispered. “I’m assuming I can’t do this when she’s in the room.”

Savannah hummed, but she didn’t really answer. Fallon kissed her again quickly, knowing that Brinley would be done soon and searching for whatever was next.

Fallon put her hands on top of Brinley’s as they sliced the bell peppers. It took three times as long as she’d anticipated. She’d all but forgotten what it was like to cook with children, especially one who didn’t quite know what she was doing in the kitchen yet.

Did Savannah do all the cooking on her own then?

“So what now?”

“Put them in the dish on top of the grated carrots.” Fallon helped to pick up the peppers. They worked nicely together, mixing the sauce before sliding the tilapia on top and then dumping half the sauce over it. They’d baste the rest on later.

Fallon brought the rice over to the sink to wash it, and Brinley gave her the oddest look. “What?”

“Why are you washing the rice?”

“You’re supposed to.” Fallon nodded toward the sink. “Come on.”

Brinley moved the small stool next to the sink and helped Fallon. “You like my mom, don’t you?”

And they were back to the deep questions. It seemed Fallon wasn’t going to be able to escape them this time, not that she managed well last time. “I do like your mom.”

Brinley didn’t say anything until they put the pot onto the stovetop and turned it on. Then she stared at the stove, like it was her lifeline. “You’ll be nice to her, right?”

“I’m rarely mean to people. Only my little sister when it’s called for.”

Brinley’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have a sister?”

“Yeah, I do. She’s nine years younger than me, so I used to pick on her a lot.” It was a bit of a stretch of the truth, but Fallon knew how to play into that story, the one where siblings teased each other and enjoyed each other’s company.

“I wish I had a sister. Or a brother.” Brinley squatted down, peeking through the glass door on the oven to the food.

Fallon wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She understood the longing, but for her, Monti had been plenty. She wouldn’t have wished her childhood on anyone else.

“Maybe my dad will have a baby with his new girlfriend.”

“You never know,” Fallon responded.

“But what if he loves the baby more than me?” Brinley sent Fallon a side-eyed nervous glance.

Fallon frowned. She’d had that fear when Monti was born, but it turned out she was still the favorite child, because she was quiet and easy, and because she took care of Monti to make sure she was quiet when her dad was in a rage. “Any good parent will love you just the same.”

“He doesn’t love my mom the same.”

This was where it’d been headed from the start, wasn’t it? “Adults are more complicated than a parent and a child's love. Adults often find reasons to be angry with each other.”

“Aunt Kyla said she was mad at Uncle Conrad for dying.”

“Yeah, I imagine she was. She still might be.” Fallon brushed her hand along Brinley’s shoulder before pulling back. “It’s okay to be mad at people for dying, and sad about it at the same time. I was that way when my mom died.”

“Are you still mad at her?” Brinley’s eyes were filled with curiosity.

Shaking her head, Fallon answered, “No, not at her.” She was, however, still royally mad at her father. She tried her best to never think about him, to ignore he even existed in her life, but it was impossible. Because without him, her mom would still be alive.

“Who are you mad at?”

“My dad.” Fallon sighed. “But I don’t really want to talk about it, okay? It doesn’t make me feel very good.”

“Okay.” Brinley grabbed Fallon’s hand and walked her toward the living room. Savannah watched both of them as they came closer. “Dinner should be ready in…”

“Twenty minutes,” Fallon supplied.

“In twenty minutes!” Brinley said gleefully. “Can I watch a video?”

“Sure, baby,” Savannah said. She didn’t sound like her usual bubbly self, though.

Fallon snagged the empty drink on the table and immediately walked back to the kitchen to refill it. Then she made a second drink for herself. When she went back to the living room and sat next to Savannah, she made sure that their legs were touching.

“Thanks for the refill.”

“Let me know if you want another.” Fallon rested her palm on Savannah’s thigh, squeezing lightly.

Savannah slid the blanket on her lap over Fallon’s hand, covering their connection from Brinley’s viewpoint. Their shoulders brushed, but Savannah still seemed tense and distant. Fallon’s mind swam with ideas to ease that tension from her, to make something better and nicer for her.

Brinley was glued to the television screen, something on YouTube that she must have watched a hundred times because when the opening started, she sang right along with it. Savannah tilted to the side and rested her head on Fallon’s shoulder.

“Today sucked.”

“To be fair, not every day can be fantastic.”

Savannah hummed again. This time though, it reeked of sad agreement. Who knew they could have an entire conversation with Savannah hardly speaking. All their conversations so far had been alive with a back and forth. Fallon dropped a kiss onto the top of Savannah’s head, nuzzling her nose into Savannah’s hair.

“Was it just the meeting with Athena?” Fallon asked, her voice as quiet as she could make it.

“No, that was just the tipping point.” Savannah watched Brinley, not the television.

Fallon was hyperaware of that, because she was doing the same. She didn’t want to overstep the boundaries that Savannah had put into place.

“I miss him.”

This was going to be Savannah’s refrain for a while, Fallon knew that. The words tugged at her heart hard because she felt the exact same way about her mom. She dipped her hand up Savannah’s thigh, higher than before, and slid it between her legs.

“I often wonder what life would have been like if my mom had raised us, if she’d left and started fresh. Would it have been easier or harder? Would have I been more scared or less? Would I be the lawyer or still the office manager?” Fallon squeezed Savannah’s thigh. “It’s impossible to know, and I have those questions that run through my mind all the time. But it doesn’t make the missing any easier. Sometimes I think it makes it harder.”

Savannah nodded. “I worry that Brin won’t have a male role model, someone who can show her just what a good guy should look like.”

That statement said way more than the words. Forrest wasn’t that man. Savannah had been clear about that. He wasn’t someone who would be a stand-up, good guy, someone that Savannah or Brinley could rely on.

“I thought Conrad would be that for her.”

“From what you’ve shared about him, he probably was.”

“Come here.” Savannah stood up, leaving her drink on the side table. She took Fallon by the hand into the kitchen where she crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. She glanced down at her toes before looking up at Fallon again.

Fallon’s stomach twisted hard. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt like this was a pivotal moment for them, one that was going to define everything going forward. She held her breath, wishing Savannah would just get to the point already or end this tension in the swiftest way possible.

“I’m thinking about going back to court.”

“For Conrad?”

Savannah shook her head. “For Brinley. Forrest’s been…” Savannah glanced toward the kitchen doorway. “He’s been getting worse, like he did right before I left the last time.”

Fallon’s ears perked up at that. Savannah hadn’t ever explained why the divorce had happened. Not really in full yet, anyway. And she wouldn’t lie and say that it hadn’t piqued her curiosity. What had been the final straw to break the proverbial camel’s back?

“He was violently angry.” Savannah nearly whispered the words. “He never hit me, I want to make that clear, but I wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t ever come to that. My goal was to get out as quickly and easily as I could.”

“And Brinley?”

Savannah shook her head. “He never seemed to focus on her.”

Fallon’s stomach twisted hard. She hadn’t been the focus either when she was really little. But as she’d grown older, as she’d started to push back and have more of an attitude about the disaster that was her home, her father had set her in his sights. “Is he now?”

“I don’t know. Brinley doesn’t talk about staying with him very much, and I try not to push her to tell me either. I don’t want it to seem like I’m prying.”

“But you have to know for a court case.”

“I understand.” Savannah sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I’m going to, not yet. I just know that I don’t want her to live through what I lived through.”

Fallon’s sentiments were very much the same. Her heart stuttered with just the thought. She tried to pull herself back into reality, to keep her mind from straying too far into the past, and the task seemed monumental. Fallon clenched her fist when the timer on the stove went off.

“Breaking the cycle of abuse is difficult,” Fallon said as she stepped toward the stove. She checked the rice first and then poured the rest of the sauce onto the fish. The smell nearly overwhelmed her, but it was glorious and comforting.

“Cycle?” Savannah asked. “I wouldn’t call myself a victim of abuse.”

Could have fooled Fallon. The signs were there whether Savannah wanted to believe them or not. Grasping at straws to try and make Savannah understand, Fallon added, “What would Conrad have thought of it all? If he knew every single thing that’s gone on.”

Savannah tensed. Fallon hated that she’d asked the question at all. It was putting them into an awkward situation, one where they were far more than simple friends with benefits. And Fallon didn’t want to fall back into the protector role that she had worked so damn hard to get out of.

“He’d be appalled. He was anyway. Conrad was never a huge fan of Forrest.”

“I think you have your answer then.” Fallon wished the meal was ready so she could plate everything, so she could distract herself even more. “Like I said earlier, Savannah, you shouldn’t be making any decisions tonight. You’ve already got one potential lawsuit going on and now you want to add in a second? That’s a lot for anyone.”

“She’s my daughter.” The fierceness in Savannah’s voice surprised Fallon.

Stepping away from the counter, Fallon straightened her shoulders and looked directly into Savannah’s eyes. “She’s as much your daughter today as the day she was born. What’s in her best interest?”

“She deserves everything.”

“Everyone does,” Fallon responded.

Brinley stepped into the kitchen, snapping the tension sharply. “Is it ready?”

“Almost,” Fallon answered quickly, shooting Savannah a sharp look. She didn’t mean to look offended or as if Savannah was in trouble. But they both clearly wanted to keep Brinley out of the conversation that they were having. “I’ll let you know when the timer goes off, okay?”

“Sure.” Brinley glanced from her mom to Fallon and back again before she turned on her toes and walked out of the room.

“I won’t decide tonight,” Savannah agreed finally. She grabbed Fallon’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I wish it were easier.”

“What was easier?”

Savannah rested her forehead on Fallon’s shoulder. “Life.”