Soaring with Fallon (Big Sky 4)

“The quiet is nice,” he says softly.

“Mm,” I agree, drinking my water, enjoying the way it soothes my dry throat. “You know, I’ve never thought about having a family. It’s just never been on my radar.”

He’s quiet as I take another drink of my water, watching the tree line ahead. A doe and her fawn wander out of the trees and stop to watch us, their ears twitching.

“But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” I continue, thinking it over. “To have kids and a family.”

Suddenly, my head whips over to stare at Noah in absolute horror.

“I don’t mean today, or necessarily with you. I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t with you, but I was just thinking out loud, I didn’t mean—”

“Stop,” he says with a chuckle and reaches over to take my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I didn’t think you were proposing. I want you to talk about your thoughts. I enjoy listening to you.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this comfortable,” I admit, feeling a frown on my lips. “I tell Claire some things, and Penny more than that, but I don’t confide in either of them about much. This is new for me.”

“We all need a person to confide in,” he says softly. “And I’m honored that you’re comfortable with me, Fallon. I’m not here to just have amazing, crazy sex with you. I want to be your friend, too. A relationship is both of those things.”

“You’re right,” I reply with a slow nod, my mind still racing with thoughts. “I’ve always thought of children as a burden. As something to endure.”

I frown and glance over at him, but he’s just watching the deer and listening to me, still holding my hand.

“I mean, my parents? Not good parents. My mom was in and out like I told you before and couldn’t be bothered with me. To be fair, she was about fifteen when she had me and was definitely not ready to be a parent.

“My grandma was wonderful. She was firm but loving, and I never questioned my place with her. But as an adult, I know that if she’d had a choice, she probably would have preferred her daughter not get pregnant in the first place. Like you were saying about Seth, having a child as a teenager is way less than ideal, and puts a lot of pressure on the family.”

“Fal, I wasn’t trying to imply that you—”

“Of course, you weren’t,” I interrupt. “I’m just still thinking out loud.”

“Fair enough.”

“But today, with your family, and Lo and Ty, and everyone…I don’t know. I guess I saw a different side to what it can mean to be part of a family and to have children. They don’t just love their kids, they like them. They listen to and enjoy them.”

He glances at me now, his brown eyes full of concern.

“Did you not feel enjoyed when you were young?”

I pull on my lip, thinking it over. “It feels wrong to imply that Grandma didn’t love me.”

“That wasn’t the question,” Noah says.

“I think I was a handful for a woman who hadn’t led an easy life,” I confess, measuring my words carefully. “And I know that she loved me. But I was a burden for her. She never would have said that to me. Not ever. She was kind and incredibly important to me. But I don’t really remember feeling like Grandma enjoyed raising me. She did it because she loved me and it was her obligation to do so.”

“That makes me sad for you,” he says, squeezing my hand again.

“Oh, there’s no need to be sad for me,” I reply. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t have a bad childhood in the least.”

“Still, I wish it had been different for you.”

“It was fine. I’m fine. But that’s why I’ve never considered having kids of my own, or really settling down. But after today, watching the others, I don’t know. I guess it seems kind of…good.”

“I think it could be good, yes,” he says.

“But not today,” I remind him. “Not now. I’m just saying.”

“Right. Not today.” He grins and takes a sip of water. “Have you ever considered reaching out to your mom? Maybe trying to have a relationship with her now?”

I shake my head. “No, I haven’t. Let me see if I can explain this. You know when you have a relative as a kid, maybe an aunt or uncle, and you’ve met them a handful of times in your life? You have vague memories of them, but you don’t know them. You’ve seen photos, but the person is a stranger to you?”

“Sure, I think we’ve all had those relatives.”

“That’s my mom for me,” I reply, hoping he understands. “She’s always been someone my grandma would talk about and show me photos of, and maybe once every five years or so, I’d see her briefly in person. But I didn’t know her. I don’t know her. And I don’t feel the urge to seek her out. Not because of anger or resentment, but because she’s not even on my radar. Does that make sense?”