California Dreamin'

Simon’s looking back at me gravely from behind his glasses, his gray eyes so much like the eyes of the girl I love.

And I realize that yeah, he is my family too. This is my family. This is my home, and if he doesn’t give us his blessing, something will break inside me.

I’ll always feel like I disappointed my father.

His eyes smile then and something flashes across them that I understand also. Some sort of solidarity.

“I felt the same way. For Willow. I still feel it. Every time she cries, I feel something.” He clenches his jaw and rubs that spot again, on his chest. “Here.”

It’s definitely solidarity.

This love that he feels for Willow and the love I feel for Fallon.

“Does it ever get easier?” I ask.

At this, his lips twitch. “No. It gets worse.”

“I don’t think so.”

He chuckles. “The more time you spend with her, the more you discover little things about her, the more you fall in love and yeah, it gets even worse. Because then you have a daughter like her and you lose sleep wondering if you’re enough, if you’re doing enough to protect her or if you’re just fucking it up. And to top it off, a few years later a son comes along and he’s just… again so much like her, impulsive and adventurous, and you feel like you have to learn to be a teenager all over again. A different kind this time and yes, you’re definitely fucking up. So no, Dean, it’s never going to get easier.”

I swallow, feeling something in my chest, something that Simon was talking about.

Something that makes me think of a tiny version of Fallon, a girl with gray eyes and silver hair. She’s running around the house like Fallon used to do, stealing strawberries and reading Harry Potter. And then, I see a boy. He’s dark like me but he’s brave like Fallon and his sister.

All of this flashes through my mind in a fraction of a second and I know, I fucking know, that this is the life I want.

And suddenly, the girl I want it with, I see her in my peripheral vision.

Fallon is walking down the hallway, heading toward the backyard. She is doing it slowly, almost creeping up on her tiptoes with a slight frown between her brows, nervousness in her eyes.

Her hair swishes around her shoulders, all silvery and soft, so pretty. Just like her.

“I don’t want easy,” I tell Simon, still watching Fallon.

Simon turns to look at her too and her eyes go back and forth between us. “You make her happy.”

“No, it’s her. She makes me happy.”

“Good. Because as much as I want the best for my daughter, I want the same for my son too.”

I swivel my gaze over to him, feeling the rock in my throat expanding, and he smiles slightly, patting my shoulder. “And I appreciate you bringing her home last night.”

When I brought her home, Willow opened the door and gave Fallon a look that said she was going to have a chat with her daughter. Then she told me that if I had been five minutes late, Simon was going to come after me. And that she needed me to come help set up for the party tomorrow so I should be here at nine.

I arrived at eight forty-five.

Just then the glass door opens and I look back at Fallon, as I say to Simon, “She shouldn’t have been walking the streets all alone at night.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Dad?” she says hesitantly.

Simon walks toward her and stops by her side. She looks at me as her dad bends down and kisses her hair. “We’ll talk later.”

“What does that—”

Simon doesn’t wait for Fallon to complete the question. He simply leaves her with me. I guess that’s his only way to tell her, to tell both of us, that he’s okay with everything.

Fallon rushes over to me. “What happened? Did he say something?”

I smile down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear, touching her pretty pink cheek. “Yeah, he said a lot of things.”

She grasps my wrist. “What did he say?” Then she digs her nails into my skin. “No, wait. Whatever he said, it’s only because he loves me, okay? Don’t hold it against him. And I’ve thought about it, I think you’re being completely unfair.”

“Unfair?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s great that you want to talk to him and explain everything on your own. I know you’re protecting me and everything. But I should get a say too, right? I should make my case too.”

I grab her waist then, my lips twitching with amusement at the determined look on her face. “And how would you make the case, Tiny?”

She frowns, coming to rest against my body. “Well, I’ll tell him that I love you. That I was born for you and you make me happy. My dad can’t be against something that makes me happy.”