a million tiny little things

Often throughout her life, Fallon wished her days and weeks and years had been on camera, recording every moment, every secret, every lie so she didn’t have to say the words. She could hit play and let everything roll on the television screen without having to stammer out a convoluted sentence about her complicated life. There would be no questions to answer because the film would explain everything in perfect detail, and when the film ended, everyone would continue on their merry way.

But her life wasn’t a movie and there was no way to explain anything without using her words. If it would be detrimental to her and Harry’s new relationship – which she could almost guarantee it would be – she had to find the words.

Harry watched Fallon’s face, her brow furrowing as she chewed on her lower lip. He could almost hear her inner monologue as she struggled to find the words to say to him, and his stomach twisted into knots. He couldn’t imagine what she was going to tell him, what could be so bad that she convinced herself he would change his mind about her. His mind raced through the possibilities – was she sick? Was she hurt? Was she a criminal? He reached out a tentative hand and touched her wrist.

“You don’t have to tell me…” he told Fallon, despite his overwhelming curiosity.

Fallon shook her head. “Yeah, I do,” she answered. “I’ve been lying to you, and… it’s not fair…” she whispered. She kept her eyes turned down, watching their distorted hands under the water. She wanted to take his hand and feel his warm comfort, but she couldn’t touch him while spilling her secrets. Instead, she drew her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Uhm… lying?” Harry repeated, his stomach sinking as Fallon recoiled and slid across the step to the opposite side. “About what?”

Fallon breathed out a shaky exhale. “A lot of things,” she admitted. She looked up at met Harry’s eyes for a moment. “I want to tell you everything… I do,” she told him, surprised to realise it was true. “But… it’s not easy. Okay? So just… let me talk, without questions… okay?”

Harry nodded. “Okay…” he answered slowly. Her unsettled disposition was not easing his own nerves. He wanted to touch her and reassure her it was okay, but he had no idea if it would be. “Just… tell me what you can, okay?”

Fallon pressed her lips together as she tried to organise her mess of thoughts. “Okay…” she breathed, her hands clammy even under the water. “I grew up… in a house with a lot of secrets. Always told not to talk about certain things or tell people anything about our lives. And that’s just stuck with me, even now…”

“What kind of secrets?” Harry pressed, forgetting – or ignoring – her request for no questions. His mind jumped all over the place, but abuse was the common thread in his thoughts. A fiery rage built up inside of him, and he wanted nothing more than to hurt whoever hurt Fallon. His fists flexed under the water and his heart thumped against his chest, angrily awaiting her truth.

“I lied to you…” Fallon reiterated. “And I’m sorry… I didn’t think… we’d get to this point. And now we are, and I…” She shook her head and sighed again. Being honest with Harry was proving to be much more difficult than she expected it would be.

“About what?” asked Harry, touching her knee. “Babe, yeah, it’s hard but… you’re really freaking me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Fallon repeated. “I’m not meaning to…”

“I know,” Harry answered, gently squeezing her knee. “But… what did you lie about?”

Fallon chewed on her lip, biting off pieces of skin. She didn’t stop even as she tasted blood. “Do you remember… when we were talking about brothers and sisters and stuff? And I said I have a brother?”

“Uhm… yeah…” Harry answered slowly, although he was not sure if he remembered the exact conversation. “So… you don’t have a brother?” He furrowed his brow curiously. It hardly seemed like something to lie about.

“No, I do,” answered Fallon. “His name is Adam, and he is my brother. We have the same mom and the same dad.”

“Okay…?” Harry frowned. “So…?” he asked, gently prodding Fallon along.

Fallon took a deep breath. “And when I told you that story about the goldfish… Remember, and me and my cousins flushed them all?” When Harry nodded, Fallon continued. “I had a lot of cousins growing up. This person was my cousin, and that person was my cousin. Everyone was my cousin, except… they weren’t…”

“Who were they?”

“They were… are… my sisters and my brothers…” Fallon told him. “And I don’t mean that in, like… we were really close friends and called each other that, or we were part of some kind of club or something. Adam is my brother, my full-blood brother, but I… I have others as well.”

Fallon’s story still made no sense to Harry. “So… like steps?” he wondered. Why would that be such a secret? “Or did your dad have more kids after he got remarried? Sorry,” he added as Fallon sighed. “No questions… but… steps aren’t that big of a deal, are they? I mean, I have steps. I told you that,” he pointed out.

“Not steps,” Fallon answered. “My dad… uhm… well… so… When my dad married my mom… she wasn’t his first wife. She was his second.”

“So?” asked Harry. “My mum got married three times…”

“Don’t say ‘so’,” Fallon told Harry, a deep frown on her face. “It’s not the same!”

“Why not?”

Fallon exhaled. “Because… when he married my mom, he was still married to his first wife. And after my mom, he married three more…” She looked up at Harry, wondering if he understood what she was saying. The confused look on his face told her he did not.

“Babe, I don’t get it,” Harry confessed. “People get married and divorced all the time…”

“Harry, I never said divorced!” Fallon exclaimed. “Shit… this is why I didn’t want you to ask questions!” She ran her fingers through her damp hair, trying to collect her thoughts. “I’m sorry, I’m just… trying to get this out…”

“It’s fine,” Harry assured her. “I’ll stop, I just… want to know…”

Fallon nodded. “I know…” she answered. “I’m trying. Uhm, I…” She trailed off as she tried to remember where she left off. “I had to… we had to… call each other our cousins, because… if we called each other brother or sister in public… everyone would know…”

“Everyone would know what?” asked Harry. He was not very good at following directions.

“That we’re… that they're... polygamists…” Fallon admitted in a whisper, her head dropping with shame as she voiced her secret. The secret she had to keep growing up, from friends and teachers and classmates. The secret that, if exposed to the wrong person, could have broken up her entire family. The secret she mistakenly told one person after moving to Los Angeles and immediately became the class weirdo. And now, the secret she hoped wouldn’t cause Harry to run for the hills.

Harry frowned. He might have heard the word before, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. “Is that… What does that mean?” he asked for clarification.

“It means… My dad has four wives…” Fallon answered. “And… seventeen kids… and… we all live together in one, big house. And it’s illegal, and weird and… now you think I’m weird, don’t you… Do you think I’m weird?” she asked in a whisper, forcing herself to look at Harry.

Harry’s eyes widened at her confession. He wasn’t sure what he expected her to say, but not that. A news story from the past suddenly jumped into his mind, and his face went white. “No, I don’t…” Harry told her. It was true, but he felt sick as he tried to remember the details of the news story. “But… Is that why you’re here?” he wondered, thinking he could throw up at any minute. “In LA, I mean. Did you run… away? Is that why it’s such a secret? Are you hiding from your dad?” he asked in a low whisper, as though someone had bugged the pool area.

Fallon wrinkled her nose. “What?” she asked, Harry’s questions confusing her. “No… I moved here because my mom lived here and I… wanted to be with her… I didn’t… What are you talking about?”

“Like… don’t you have to marry your uncle?” Harry tried. “Isn’t that… what polygamy is? You marry a really old guy when you’re really young? And you have to wear dresses and stuff? Isn’t that… didn’t I see it on the news?”

Fallon shook her head. “No,” she answered. “I mean, I guess if I would have stayed there, I would have ended up the third wife to some guy twenty years older than me, but he wouldn’t have been my uncle… What?” she asked Harry, noticing the shocked expression on his face.

“You just… you said that so casually…” Harry tried to explain. “Like that would have been your life, and this wouldn’t be and you sound… like actually really okay with it…”

“I never would have been okay with it,” Fallon told Harry. “But…” she shrugged. “I didn’t know about a life like this growing up,” she told him, gesturing with grandiose. “Plyg kids don’t know anything else, and fundie Mormons are incredibly naïve. Had I not come out here, I could have easily believed that the third wife life would bring me closer to God and we would create this glorious kingdom on Earth with four thousand kids and no money. But, oh… our afterlife would be beautiful,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

Harry shook his head. Fallon’s candour was unsettling, and he tried to wrap his head around the idea of his not-even-twenty-one-year-old girlfriend, still living on the farm in Wyoming, a third wife and likely a mother a few times over. He envisioned her as oppressed and depressed, trapped under her husband’s thumb, with nothing to look forward to but her last child being out of diapers. “Sorry, I’m just… having a hard time getting my mind around that…” Harry confessed.

Fallon exhaled loudly and dropped her head. “You do think I’m weird… don’t you?” she asked, mentally kicking herself for spilling too much to Harry. He didn’t need to hear all her thoughts and feelings, he only needed facts.

“No,” Harry answered immediately. It was true, and he hoped she trusted his words. He slid closer to Fallon and found her hand. “Babe, I don’t think you’re weird at all…” he promised her. “Everyone has stories and things about their lives that might not be… common…” he added, relieved he said the word ‘common’ rather than ‘normal’.

“Oh, come on…” Fallon let out a humourless chuckle. “I mean… I just told you… My dad has multiple wives. Like a fucking pack of lions! And that I would have been exactly the same if I didn’t come out here to live with my psychotic mother. I mean, that’s majorly fucked up!”

Harry shrugged. “Okay, yeah… it’s a bit… very… strange…” he confessed. “But,” he quickly added as Fallon’s head dropped, “that doesn’t mean I think you’re weird. Babe!” he laughed, nudging her chin up to meet his eyes. “I don’t think you’re weird at all. I think you’re amazing and wonderful and all that good stuff. And I don’t care how many wives your dad has. What does that have to do with you?”

“I mean… because it’s my family…?” Fallon asked. “And I… I’ve been the weirdo for it before, and I…” She let out a disbelieving scoff. “You really don’t think it’s weird? And I’ve been stressing about this for weeks? And you literally don’t care?”

Harry echoed her laugh. “I literally don’t care,” he repeated. Unless… “But this… plou… pla…”

“Polygamy,” Fallon supplied.

“Polygamy,” Harry repeated. “Is this… what… I mean, do you… Are you… You don’t want it… right?”

Fallon let out a loud guffaw. “Oh my gosh, no!” she exclaimed. “No, God no… never, ever. Ever!” She shook her head. “I don’t want that life. I… it’s not for me. If it works for people, great, but… It’s never been anything that I want. Never, ever,” she reiterated.

Harry laughed. “Well… that’s good…” he commented airily. He didn’t want Fallon to think her future plans had to include him, but it was a relief to hear his girlfriend didn’t want to be a part of a plural marriage. “But I do… want to learn more about it…” he told her. “Is that okay?”

Fallon nodded. “Yeah,” she replied. “You can ask me whatever… But… I might not answer everything. Okay?” Despite Harry’s reassurance, she still felt uneasy telling him everything.

“That’s fair,” Harry agreed. He pressed a soft kiss against Fallon’s cheek. “I just want to know… was everything good growing up?” He rested his head against hers. “I mean…” He trailed off, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to ask if she’d been a victim of abuse without stating the exact words. It was something he didn’t want to hear, but needed to. Was that why she was always so hesitant to talk about Adam?

Fallon nodded. “I guess…” she answered honestly. “Sometimes? It was hard to get attention, and I… there was a lot of pressure… Like, religious pressure and… even though my parents said they didn’t care if we lived the polygamist life, they definitely wanted us all to. They would, like… laugh about matchmaking and courting and shit, but when we were young, and it was weird.”

“Like talking about you marrying some old guy?” asked Harry with a frown. He truly didn’t care how many wives Fallon’s dad had – he could have a hundred for all Harry cared. But hearing Fallon tell him her family could have pressured her into the same life, or convinced to marry a man she didn’t love, angered Harry. A person’s life was their own to live, no one else’s, regardless of their parents’ expectations or religion. He didn’t want to start hating her dad – he already was not fond of her mother – but it was difficult to picture Fallon’s father as a warm, loving man.

Fallon shrugged. “Kind of,” she admitted as she aggressively cracked her knuckles. She sighed as Harry covered her hands with his, stopping her nervous habit. “I just remember when I was, like… eleven or so… And there were these two brothers who worked on the farm, lived nearby. They were nice enough but a bit odd. They were talking to my dad and uncle about how they both were looking for a second wife. And then one of them looked at me and was like ‘too bad none of your girls are ripe yet, Ed!’ And he… like, he wasn’t saying it in a joking way, but everyone laughed…”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “And you were eleven?” he exclaimed. “Bloody hell, babe! And your dad didn’t do anything?”

“He wasn‘t super impressed,” Fallon answered. “He’s not bad, he’s just… We’re just different. But then my uncle was like, oh, they’ll be ready by the time you’re hunting for a third, and I… I knew if I didn’t leave, that stupid little joke would become a reality…” Fallon sighed again and let herself rest against Harry for a moment. “So… I… called my mom, and she… she seems like a bad person, and… a lot of the time she is, but she… I mean, I was on a plane like three days later, coming out here. So…”

Knowing what he knew about Fallon’s mom, it was hard to imagine her as the good guy in this story – or any story. “I don’t think she’s bad…” he lied. “I don’t even know her,” he reminded Fallon. He wouldn’t tell her he had no desire to meet her mother. And now, her father. “Did your brother come out here too?”

Fallon shook her head. “No,” she answered. “Adam is… That’s his life, and his home. He’ll never leave. He’s…” She trailed off with a shrug. “Jell-O Eater for life…”

Harry was not sure what that meant, but he assumed it meant her brother was the same as her father, the same as her uncles, the same as those perverted brothers. He wondered if there would be anyone in her family he would like.

“Does that mean, like… really religious?” Harry asked. He had nothing against religion – he considered himself a religious man – but Mormonism seemed different to him. It was always the butt of jokes and the portrayal of Mormons on television or movies was not always flattering. Though, he supposed, every facet of religion had intense people and laid back people. Maybe Fallon’s father and brother were on the stricter end of the spectrum, and Fallon was on the opposite end – if on the spectrum at all.

Fallon shrugged. “It’s derogatory,” she answered. She wasn’t about to launch into a bible lesson about fundamentalist Mormonism. He could easily Google it if he wanted to. She let out a quiet sigh. She didn’t want the conversation to segue into her religious beliefs. It would be difficult to explain them to Harry when she herself was not sure what they were.

Fallon was starting to clam up, but Harry was nowhere near satisfied enough to end the conversation. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, about her family, her upbringing, her own beliefs. He adored hearing her share with him, and he didn’t want her to shut down again. He reached for her hand and squeezed her cold fingers. “Okay, so… what number are you?” he asked, giving her a smile. He hoped his question was light enough for her to answer.

Fallon frowned. “Harry, I… I feel like… I know you’re not, but… don’t make fun of me…”

Harry let out a quiet snicker. “Babe, I’m not,” he promised her. “I wouldn’t, I told you that before. I’m not going to tease you about things that will actually bug you. But… this is weird for me. And I don’t mean you’re weird,” he quickly pointed out. “I mean this whole… your whole… you know, all this. And I’m fine with it, I don’t give a shit about how many wives your dad has, but… I might ask questions in the wrong way, so… don’t snap at me about it, and just… explain it. Okay?”

Fallon sighed. He was right. His questions and comments might sound inappropriate, but he didn’t mean them to be. He wanted to learn more about her, because he liked her and cared about her. With his in mind, Fallon scooted close to Harry and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m number five,” she told him, rubbing her thumb along his hand.

Harry smiled, pressing a kiss onto Fallon’s head. “So how many other older brothers do I have to worry about?” he wondered. “I reckon if they’re all farmers, they could take me down in a minute.”

“You might be able to hold your own…” Fallon mused, drawing her gaze up Harry’s bicep. “But… I have three older brothers…” The words felt odd on her tongue. She was so used to telling people she only had one brother. That was the one thing her parents had always allowed her to say as a child. Adam was her brother, the rest were cousins. Admitting the truth to Harry was uncomfortable, but had a sense of liberation as well.

“I can probably handle that,” Harry teased, kissing her again. “Can you name everyone in order?” he asked. Then he shook his head. “Sorry. Of course you can,” he remarked. “They’re your family…”

Fallon snickered. “Yeah, I can…” she answered. She toyed with the rings on his hand. This isn’t him making fun, she reminded herself. Jasmine had asked the same question when Fallon slipped up and accidentally confessed her secret to her. But telling Jasmine hadn’t been as worrisome as telling Harry. Perhaps it was because telling Jasmine had been an accident, or perhaps it was because Fallon cared so deeply about Harry and his opinion of her, she didn’t want him to think poorly about her, ever.

As she huffed out a loud breath, Fallon recited her list in one continual sigh. “Briar, Adam, Enos, Tim, me, Gentry, Josh, Hiram, Aspen, Beckett, Chelan, Garrison, Aaron, Zara, Wells, Vada and Tailee…”

“Jesus…” Harry murmured. The long list of mostly odd names surprised him, but more so, he found himself impressed by her quick narration. She recited her siblings names as though she was reciting her childhood phone number… if her phone number had seventeen digits.

“No Jesus…” Fallon deadpanned. She shrugged. “Harry… is this really not a deal breaker for you? Because I’ll totally understand if it is… You don’t have to feel bad if you want to tap out… I get it. I wouldn’t blame you…”

Harry let out a dramatic groan. “Fuck, no!” he exclaimed. “But if you keep fucking doubting me, that might be a deal breaker…” He shook his head. “I’m kidding…” he assured Fallon, squeezing her hand. Bad timing. “But… fuck… I told you, didn’t I?”

Fallon nodded meekly. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I just… really thought you’d freak out,” she confessed. “Back home it’s like… there are only a few families like ours, and everyone else thinks it’s fucked. Like other kids couldn’t even play with us, their parents wouldn‘t let them. Then I told that stupid bitch, Mallory Calvert, about it when I moved here, and she harassed me like crazy about it. So…” Fallon shrugged. “I’ve never told anyone since. Except Jasmine, but she figured it out on her own when my parents were visiting.”

“But she was cool with it?” asked Harry. He found himself hoping Jasmine would show up at Fallon’s birthday party. She was the only person Fallon ever talked about, and he was curious about the woman who somehow found her way past Fallon’s walls and into her life.

Fallon nodded. “She didn’t care.”

“So why did you think I would?”

Fallon shrugged. “Jasmine comes from her own fucked up family,” she answered. “Like… Dr Phil, Maury, weird TLC specials kind of fucked up. So… I figured she wouldn’t even bat an eye. But you… you’re… perfect… And I…”

Harry held up a hand. “Baby, I’m not perfect…” he retorted. “And my family isn’t fucking perfect either. My parents got divorced, I never see my dad… my mum’s got married three times and drug me and Gem from house to house to house. She meant well, but we aren’t the Cleavers either.”

“Yeah…” Fallon sighed. “Harry, I know I’m a pain in the ass, I…”

“You are,” Harry interjected. He nudged Fallon’s face towards him and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “Look, you might think I’m perfect… and I fucking think you’re perfect… But we aren’t. We’re both wrong. But… we both like each other, right?”

Fallon nodded.

“And neither one of us is going anywhere, right?”

Fallon sighed loudly, but nodded again.

“So what else matters?” asked Harry. “Your family’s fucked up, my family’s fucked up. You have annoying little habits…” he said, covering her hand as she cracked her knuckles, “… and I might have one or two… You get on my nerves, I’m going to get on yours…”

Fallon snorted. “No shit.”

Harry elbowed Fallon’s side. “Exactly,” he affirmed. “So, just fucking chill out… okay?”

Fallon rolled her eyes. “You have such a way with words…” she told him. “But… okay… fuck sake. You’re right. But this is a really big deal for me to tell you, and I don’t want it to backfire…”

“Bloody hell… it won’t,” Harry sighed. He tugged Fallon onto his lap and kissed the back of her neck. “You’re a massive pain in the ass, I reckon,” he teased, running his fingers along her swim suit straps. “I get it, but… knock it off, okay?” His tone was teasing but his words were serious. He didn’t want to keep defending his feelings. He felt for Fallon and he understood her plight, but constantly having to reassure her of his feelings was frustrating.

Fallon heard the truth in Harry’s words, despite his joking tone. She leaned back against his chest, and his arms encircled her body and pulled her close. As he hugged her, Fallon realised she’d given Harry plenty of outs – her hot-and-cold moods, her virginity, her family situation – and he still insisted he was not going anywhere. Suddenly, as though someone flicked a switch inside of her, she believed him. She had her efficient defences, protecting her heart for so long, and Harry just scoffed at them, as though they weren’t for him. Maybe they weren’t. He had his own key to her heart and strolled right in without knocking. He ignored the disorganised mess and made himself at home. Even if she wasn’t always the best hostess, Harry wasn’t leaving. It was time for her to stop questioning his feelings – despite how hard they could be to understand – and bask in the honeymoon stage of their new, lovely relationship.

“I will.”

And she would.

Notes