Page 38 of Love, Lies and Sleigh Rides
June leaned forward and tapped the top of Fallon’s desk with a red fingernail to get her attention.
“There wasn’t an ounce of trauma in the pretty little drink your secret admirer sent your way when we were conferencing the other day.”
Fallon flipped through one of the trade magazines, looking at the pages but not actually seeing them now that June broughtthatup. She wrinkled her nose.
“Not a big deal, really. Just someone being friendly.”
June laughed with a hand on her stomach. One of the junior office assistants passed Fallon’s door just then and slowed at the raucous laughter. Fallon inhaled deeply, ignoring June, and continued going through her mail.
“I don’t know why you make such a mountain out of small details sometimes,” said June, throwing her hands up. “I’m interested is all. And if there’s romance in the air, all the better. You know I’m always harping on you to loosen up.”
Fallon appreciated this. And she’d let June know that over the years since coming to work at Endeavor Publicity. June was not only her boss but a surrogate mother, a confidante, someone she could trust not only professionally, but on a personal level too. Fallon had attended June’s kids’ graduations, birthday parties, and family cookouts. So June’s questions weren’t as intrusive as they were just not wanted at the moment, similar to a teen being grilled about their whereabouts before feet were even over the threshold.
“No romance whatsoever. It was just hot chocolate,” she reassured her boss.
“Okay,” June said with a hint of disappointment in her tone. “Sorry for bringing it up.”
It was sonotanything more than that. Fallon had reminded herself over and over again on the long trip back to the Twin Cities, especially in light of her spur-of-the-moment invitation to Kade in the parking lot. Asking him to accompany her surprised Fallon as much as it did Kade, judging from the wide-eyed look he’d given her. If only she could take it back.
Fallon rubbed her neck after tossing the last of the mail into the correct pile. “I’m just tired, June. I’ll be back to my old self after I get to sleep in my own bed for a few nights.” She did have a question for June though. “How did you and Agnes meet?”
June settled back into the chair, serious now. “College. We were both communications majors. We pledged together too. Met the first week freshman year. Her son was born the same year as my youngest.”
A son. She didn’t realize Agnes had children. There were certainly no photos of him or anyone else around Agnes’s home when Fallon stayed there overnight.
“Do her children live in Hendricks too?”
“They just have Oren. And no, he left years ago. I doubt Agnes has seen him in ten years maybe.”
How sad for Agnes and her husband. Not knowing their family dynamics, Fallon imagined it was hard for them. But she’d seen firsthand how abrasive the woman could be. Who knew what drove them apart?
While June carried on about Oren and his litany of problems, the conversation reminded Fallon of something she needed to follow through with. She jotted down a note to get the contact information from Agnes of the people who agreed to lend her the buckboard wagon for the parade. Fallon sat in her chair, ready to start on the small pile of yellow message slips collected by her assistant since Fallon had left the office midday last Friday. When June stopped talking, Fallon looked up. June didn’t pause very often.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, just taking stock in my good fortune,” mused June. “For my family. Ladro, the girls. I don’t do that enough.”
Fallon grinned. “You do have a very nice family, June.”
Her boss studied Fallon like she wanted to return the compliment but of course they both knew it wouldn’t be true. Her smile slowly faded which was replaced with a sympathetic nod.
“I’m sorry,” said June.
“Don’t be.”
June grimaced. “It was insensitive.”
“Appreciating your family? I think not.”
“Still.”
“You’re my family, June. I have plenty to be thankful for too.”
That seemed to please June, because she gave Fallon a little nod and didn’t add anything more.
Fallon brushed off the melancholy that threatened to cloud her afternoon. It wasn’t that hard to do these days. She’d had plenty of practice.
Fallon’s mother had asked for a divorce shortly after Mitchell announced they were moving again when Fallon was a college sophomore. Her mother took off for Oregon in a red Mustang convertible with a duct-taped taillight the week after Fallon’s brother graduated from high school. Mom had a “friend,” her brother explained when he’d called Fallon to report the news. She’d already escaped back to live on campus for that summer, so she didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of her mother’s hasty exit from their lives. Engrossed in his work, Mitchell didn’t speak of her after that day. Fallon’s brother felt the upheaval a little more acutely though. He lived with a friend for a few months until he saved enough money from his fast-food job to buy a bus ticket back to Albuquerque. As far as Fallon knew, he was still there. They hadn’t talked since their grandfather passed three years ago.
