Fallon // Chapter Six

The next week flew by in a flurry of activity. Every second that Isaac wasn’t working with his brothers in the studio, he was with us at my apartment. Together, we went through everything I owned and started to separate my belongings into two piles: Save and Dumpster Destined. The latter was named by Isaac, trying to get a smile out of me as I reluctantly put items into that pile. I knew it was ridiculous, wanting to hold onto old issues of Glamour and videotapes filled with reruns of Friends and Seinfeld. I knew that it needed to go, but that didn’t make it any easier to do.

“Julianne, I saw that,” Isaac accused from across the room.

“Saw what?”

“I saw you take something out of the Dumpster pile,” he explained. I looked down at the grocery sack in my hands before fixing him with a look that made his eyes open wide.

“This is not garbage, and you put it in the pile, not me.”

“It’s a bag of old newspapers, what do you need that for?” I moved over to sit beside him on the couch where he was holding Fallon.

Being sure to make a lot of noise with each movement, I untied the sack’s handles and yanked out the top few papers.

These two have reviews of the first show I was in. It was terrible and I was on stage for all of five minutes, but I was in it,” I dropped them to the floor and picked up the next, “This has an article about you in it, about the show you did the night we met.” I moved to continue, but he snatched it from my grasp.

“You kept this?” he asked, his eyes skimming the article.

“Well, yeah,” I replied with a shrug, trying to brush it off as not being that big of a deal. Trying to pretend that I hadn’t been hopelessly infatuated with him during our few months together. That night had been huge for me, so of course I’d kept the article.

“I really liked you,” he said as he handed the paper back to me, “I was really upset when I never heard from you. And when I was done being mad, I was just…”

“Over it?” I asked. He nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I liked you so much, but once I found out I was pregnant and couldn’t get a hold of you, I hated you. That certainly got rid of any other feelings I was having.”

He reached over with his free arm, the one closest to me, and put his arm around my back to pull me close.

“I know I can never make it up to you, but I’ll try as hard as I can,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to my temple.

The action was so sweet, so simple and chaste that I almost missed the faint way my heart fluttered. Just as my exhausted mind processed the feeling, Isaac was up and setting Fallon in her crib, destroying the moment.

“Back to work?” I asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

“I have no idea how you have so much stuff crammed into one apartment,” he laughed.

“Stop being so dramatic, we’re almost done,” I said, giving his side a poke as he moved past me to the stack he’d been working his way through.

We spent the next three hours finishing things up and as dinnertime approached, Isaac called Zac to see if he’d be willing to help us move the next day. I was taking the pot of macaroni and cheese off the stove when he joined me in the kitchen section of my studio apartment.

“Looks like we’re officially moving you tomorrow,” he grinned, “I can’t wait to have Fallon just a few floors away.”

Tears immediately pooled at the corners of my eyes. He was excited for Fallon to be there. Just Fallon, not me. I forced them back, mad at myself for still being an emotional mess.

“Are you sure you don’t mind doing all the grunt work by yourself?” I asked as I scooped two bowls full of the bright orange pasta.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, “And there’s not a lot of big, heavy furniture, so we’ll be fine.”

We ate without doing much talking. It was obvious how much the day full of organizing and boxing things had exhausted both of us. The silence was comfortable, though. I wasn’t the girl to fill silences with random chatter anyway, but I definitely didn’t feel the need to do so with Isaac.

Dinner passed by, and after we’d done the dishes, we settled in the living room so I could feed Fallon.

“Are you sad to move?” he asked.

“Yeah, I am,” I admitted, “But, it’s just because this is the only home I’ve ever had in New York.”

“It’ll be a good thing.”

“I know it will be,” I nodded, waiting a few moments before continuing, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What’s going on with Taylor?”

Isaac dropped his gaze from me and stared at his hands.

“I don’t mean to pry,” I continued, “It’s just that he didn’t come to the diner and it’s been a week and you haven’t even mentioned his name around me. He’s mad, isn’t he?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” he said softly, still looking at his hands. I didn’t push the matter. When he was ready, I knew he’d talk. I’d grown up with parents who wouldn’t talk until they wanted to, so his reaction wasn’t anything new for me. “So, we’ll be over around nine with a moving truck.”

“Sounds good.” He kissed both of our foreheads, the way he did every time he left us, and then he disappeared out into the cold night. Fallon lay sleepily in my arms, her little eyelids drooping. It felt like I’d hardly had any time with her all day, but as awful as that felt, I put her in the crib anyway.

It was her last night in that crib. Waiting at the condo was an entire new bedroom for Fallon filled with the crib, changing table, and dresser I’d picked out when Isaac had taken us shopping. I’d tried to be reasonable in my choices, and had put my foot down when he’d started suggesting items for the rest of the condo as well. If he wanted to take care of Fallon, that was fine, but I would take care of myself. I’d been doing it for years.

I walked around my small apartment, checking in cabinets and closets, making sure that we hadn’t missed anything. Everything was empty. All I had left to do in the morning was strip the sheets from my bed and close up the box stuffed with my toiletries.

After checking on Fallon, I picked up the pile of newspapers that hadn’t been moved from where I’d left them by the couch, and headed for bed. Once I was safe and warm beneath the covers, I took out the article about Isaac’s concert.

I’d gone to see them on a whim with a friend who had an extra ticket. In the late nineties, I’d bought their CD and had rocked out to “Where’s the Love” more times than I could count, but I, like so many others, had lost track of them once the madness surrounding that album had died down.

It had been pure curiosity that had made me tag along that night, and what I’d heard blew me away. I didn’t know they were still making music, let alone that they had just a huge fanbase and were so damned talented.

When my friend and I went out for drinks after the concert at a bar down the street, I’d been shocked when Isaac had come up to the bar right next to where I was sitting. Someone bumped into him hard, sending him directly on a collision course with me. My drink had spilled all over the bar and had served as an excellent ice breaker.

We spent the rest of the night talking, and my friend left me out of boredom after I had ignored her for the better part of an hour. I left alone that night, but had his hotel room number stored in my phone and had left my cell phone number with him. Two days later, he called me, and for the next two months, we saw each other at least three times a week.

I hadn’t liked him because he was Isaac Hanson. I’d liked him because he was sweet and funny, and I never felt like I had to be anyone other than who I was when I was with him. It didn’t matter that he was a rock star and I was a struggling actress, because when we were together, we were just happy.

That’s what had made his lack of response to my letters hurt so much more. Every memory, every kiss, every tear-inducing laugh, every night spent with his warmth next to me suddenly meant nothing. I had been just another stupid girl who had been moronic enough to fall for the famous guy.

Or so I’d thought.

My fingertips trailed over the newsprint and I smiled before setting it on the floor and turning off the floor lamp beside my bed. Everything was about to change, but part of me was finally starting to feel excited.

Chapter Seven

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