Page 40 of Last Call (Open Tab #5)

Fallon shrugged. “It’s understandable,” she said. “If it helps, my mom was the mayor for almost twenty years. She’d kill me if I didn’t help you out. The fact that you’re related to Sylvia? Well, there’s no coming back from that.”

“You’re Ida Foster’s daughter?”

“Unfortunately for her at times,” Fallon joked. “Let me guess; Sylvia told you to look her up.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Listen, Riley, I really don’t think either of us has much choice here. I’ve got the room. You’ve got a toddler, and we’ve got a storm rolling in.”

Riley wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream, cry, or hug Fallon. Fallon’s words made sense. Still, she didn’t know this woman at all. What was she supposed to do?

“I know it probably doesn’t mean much—my promise, that is. I promise you will be safe—if that helps at all.”

“I could just wait here and…”

“You can. If that’s what you are comfortable with, you can.

There’s heat, and you are welcome to call anyone you like.

Like I said, I live up the hill. I’ll have to be down here to plow the lot later anyway.

If you want to stay here, that’s fine. It’s a lot more comfortable up there.

Trust me on that. I should know. You can get some rest. I’ll make sure your car gets to the garage tomorrow, and we’ll get you home.

I’m sure Pete has a loaner you can borrow at the shop until he works things out with your car. ”

Riley’s head was spinning again. Pete? Who the hell was Pete?

Why would anyone offer to let a stranger stay in her home?

What was the catch? Maybe she’d hit her head and ended up in Oz or something.

Owen started to groan and kick. He was exhausted.

She was freezing and exhausted. What else could she do?

“My place is nicer than this,” Fallon tried to lighten the mood. “Come on. I’ll drive you up there.”

Riley nodded dumbly. If nothing else, she would have a story to tell. “Fallon?”

“Yeah?”

“I…”

“Don’t sweat it.”

This wasn’t her place. It belonged to them all—all the people she loved.

Without it, she might never have married Riley.

Maybe Billie would never have found the courage to get close to Andi.

Everything changed the day Riley arrived in town.

And it all started here. Fallon sighed. “Thank God for snowstorms and Andi’s impromptu phone calls. ” She chuckled.

“Fallon?”

Fallon looked up at Carol.

“You know, we don’t have to change anything in here,” Carol said.

“No. We do.”

“This is your place. It’s your decision.”

“It’s not my place.”

It wasn’t. Fallon had come to realize that while she might pay the utilities, vendors, and salaries, Murphy’s Law didn’t belong to her. At least it didn’t belong only to her.

“Just because Charlie and I agreed to invest in the expansion, doesn’t…”

“It’s not about that,” Fallon said. “This place belongs to everyone, Carol.”

“So, leave it as it is. We can make it work.”

“Probably. But we can also make it something more,” Fallon said.

“You know, we can still hold the Cigar Club.”

“I think our cigar-smoking, whiskey-drinking days are over for the foreseeable future.”

“Maybe,” Carol said. “Not forever.”

Fallon nodded and pulled herself from the booth. “Make the changes,” she said. “Just don’t touch the jukebox.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

A loud wail beckoned Andi’s attention.

“Man, that kid has a set of lungs,” Billie joked.

“You should have heard Jacob when he was a baby.”

“Loud, huh?”

“And persistent.”

“I’ll get him,” Billie said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Maybe you should give Fallon a call.”

“I’m sure Fallon is fine.”

“Call her, Andi. Riley will thank you.”

Andi giggled. That was probably true. She lifted her phone.

“Making sure I don’t freak out?” Fallon answered the call.

“No. Just checking in.”

“It’s okay. I’m freaking out. A little. Did Riley call you?”

“No.”

“I’m okay. It’s a little—clinical.”

“So, make it unclinical when you get home.”

“Is that even a word?” Fallon asked.

“Probably not. It sounded good,” Andi replied.

“I’ll try not to make Riley crazy.”

“Riley can handle you.”

“Yes. She. Can.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’m not doing anything. I would have. Riley said she was opposed to turkey basters.”

Andi laughed so hard she coughed.

“It’d be easier.”

“Or not,” Andi said. “Don’t bring that up at the clinic.”

“There might be…”

“Fallon!”

“I’m kidding. Thanks for calling. It helped.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Tell Dave I’ll see him tomorrow,” Fallon said.

“I will. He took Becky out for lunch to get a change of scenery—and a little quiet.”

“Baby Billy’s making his presence known, huh?”

“Like an airhorn in a shoebox,” Andi said. “Honestly, I think he’s trying to outdo his uncle.”

“Is that possible? Fallon asked.

“Probably not. Jacob once screamed so loud at the pediatrician’s office that a woman in the waiting room suggested they call child services.”

Fallon laughed.

“Things will work out, Fallon. Maybe not this time. They will.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

Fallon was quiet for a second. “Okay, off to take a walk. Or reorganize the freezer. Something soothing.”

“Don’t mention turkey basters,” Andi warned.

“Noted.”

They hung up with matching grins.

Billie returned with baby Billy resting on her shoulder.

“He finally passed out?” Andi asked.

Billie nodded. “Either my magic touch or he’s conserving energy for round two.”

“I’d put my money on the latter.”

“How was Fallon?”

“She’s Fallon,” Andi said.

“I hope she’ll be okay if things don’t…”

“It will happen when it’s meant to happen, like everything else.”

“Want to take advantage of nap time?” Billie flirted.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Absolutely.”

Andi moved close and nuzzled Bille’s neck, then stepped back.

“What?”

Andi bit her lip.

“What?” Billie asked.

“You have baby poop on your shoulder.”

“No. I…”

Andi raised her brow.

Billie looked down and groaned. “How does he do that?”

“Give him to me,” Andi said. “And take a shower.”

“You can meet me in there,” Billie suggested.

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

Andi chuckled and kissed her grandson’s head. “What are you doing to Grandma?”

The baby stretched and then—Wail!

Billie tossed a look back from the top of the stairs. “Round two, it is.”

Barb trotted across the gravel lot, squinting against the late-afternoon glare. Inside Pete’s garage, the blended scent of motor oil, brake dust, and stale coffee filters reminded her of watching her father tinker with his motorcycle.

She told herself she was here for one thing only—her car.

Her heart ticked up a beat as she eased the side door open.

Pete peeked up from under the hood of an old Subaru. “Hey, Doc. Here for your wheels?”

Barb grinned. No one called her "Doc" outside of a few students except Pete. "Unless you're looking for a new tow truck driver."

Pete laughed. “All set—sensor’s swapped, diagnostics clear. You’re good to roll.”

She nodded, fighting off a flicker of disappointment. The back office window was empty.

“Great,” she said, fishing for her wallet. “I’ll settle up and...”

The office door creaked open.

“Hey, Pete—did you see the diagnostic on...”

Parker paused mid-sentence, spotting Barb.

Barb's breath caught. Parker's hair hung loose today, a few strands brushing her cheek. She wore a gray T-shirt stamped with the Periodic Table—now decorated with a grease smear over Helium and Neon.

“Oh." Parker stammered slightly. “You’re back.”

Barb’s lips unconsciously curved. “I wondered if I'd see you…”

Pete raised an eyebrow and wisely stayed silent.

Parker sauntered forward, casually wiping her hands on a rag. “Well, I usually spend Thursday afternoons in the Hamptons, but this..." Parker waved a hand around the shop. "Is hard to give up."

Barb chuckled.

Pete cleared his throat. “I’ll…just look for that diagnostic report.”

Parker smirked. “He’s not subtle.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“So,” Parker said, shifting her weight. "I took her for a spin. Nice ride."

"Thanks. It's not the most practical car with kids."

"So, you'd rather trade your Beamer for that Subaru?"

"I don't know," Barb said. "Maybe."

"Hm. We could discuss the pros and cons over dinner."

"Dinner?"

"I know you eat. I saw it with my own eyes," Parker quipped. "Do you like pizza?"

"I do."

"Do your kids like pizza?"

"They like anything that qualifies as junk food or fast food," Barb said.

"How about pizza tomorrow? If you're not busy. Besides, I want to know how that camping trip went."

"One condition. I'm buying,” Barb said.

"Okay. I'll pick you up in my Subaru."

"Do you actually own a Subaru?"

Parker grinned.

Barb shook her head.

"Pick you up at five?” Parker suggested.

"You don't know where I live."

"Do so."

Barb blinked.

"It's on the invoice," Parker reminded Barb.

"Of course it is."

"So, five for four. It's a date."

"It's a date."

Riley let the front door close behind her and set her bag down gently.

Fallon was already halfway across the room.

“Are you okay? Do you want water? Tea? Ginger ale?”

Riley raised an amused eyebrow. “I just had a nurse insert a catheter and a vial of hope. I’m not dying, babe."

Fallon didn’t laugh. She hovered.

Riley walked to the couch and sat with a sigh. “Okay. I’m officially sitting. Breathe.”

Fallon sat beside her. "The doctor said you should stay hydrated."

"Fallon, relax. It went fine. Quick, clinical, and weirdly anticlimactic.”

“I can do climactic,” Fallon offered.

Riley laughed.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, apart from the nervous drumming of Fallon's fingers on the arm of the couch.

“What if it didn’t work?” Fallon asked.

Riley reached over and stilled Fallon's hand. “Then we try again. And again. If we need to.”

Riley decided to change the subject. "Beth said Barb stopped by Pete’s to pick up her car.”

“That's good."

“And Parker was there.”

Fallon’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“They’re going for pizza tomorrow with the girls.”

"Like on a date?"

"I don't know if it's a date. It's pizza. With the girls.”

"Do you think Barb is interested in Parker?" Fallon asked.

"I think Barb finds her interesting."

"What's the difference?"

"I think Barb is intrigued. That's a good thing."

"Hm."

"What?" Riley asked.

"I'll bet she gives Barb a pop quiz about pizza toppings."

Riley looked at Fallon.

"I'll bet it's genetic. The quiz thing,” Fallon said.

"You really are a little touched, babe."

Fallon grinned and gently pressed Riley against the cushions.

"What are you doing?" Riley giggled.

"You said I'm touched."

"Fallon," Riley laughed.

"Besides, the doctor said sometimes sex can move things in the right direction."

"I thought you were worried about my hydration?"

"We can hydrate after the touching."

Riley pulled Fallon's lips to hers and kissed her passionately. Then she pushed Fallon away and stood.

"Riley? Where are you going?"

"I'm thirsty. And I have to pee."

Fallon flopped on the couch with a groan.

"You can lie there groaning or grab me a bottle of water and meet me in the bedroom," Riley called out.

Fallon found her feet quickly.

Riley shook her head. At least she isn't hovering—yet.