"You look like one of those prostitutes who would sleep with even a donkey if offered the right price," Fallon's grandmother greeted her with a sneer on her face.
Fallon forced a smile and bit back the rude retort at the tip of her tongue, "Who will offer the price grandma? The donkey or the owner?"she asked politely. She was dressed pencil dress that went all the way past her knees, her go to Sunday best dress; she had hoped it will please her grandmother.
"The donkey of course, no rational human being will pay for this," she answered pointing at her with disdain.
Fallon looked at the phone in her hand where she was on a video call with her sister Berin, "First observation:when this interview is over, I am going to kill the old lady and stuff her body with onions."
"Fallon!" exclaimed the gentle hearted Berin.
Fallon grinned at her,"Kidding I am going to add peppers too."
"Fallon!"
"What?"
"Don't say such things, she is our grandmother,and she has agreed to help us with our project, you should be grateful."
Fallon rolled her eyes, "Fine miss two goody shoes, get ready to transcribe, would you?"
"I am all set, don't forget to turn on the recorder," Berin reminded.
"Alright, there you go," Fallon said turning on the recorder and placing it on the table in front of her grandmother. She pulled a chair and tried another smile at the bitter old lady, " Good morning grandma, are you ready? "
Fallon was in her final year of college, studying Journalism whereas Berin was studying photography and filmography; for their joint final project, they had decided to make a documentary on age discrimination. Their grandmother was ninety nine years old, and was to be their major source. Fallon, being the journalist had been tasked with the interviewing, which would not have been so bad if she was interviewing a tiger than her grandmother.
"Tell me about your childhood," Fallon prodded earnestly while pushing the phone towards her grandmother for Berin's benefit.
"It was nothing like yours," her grandmother answered proudly.
"You mean your grandmother actually loved you and never called you 'the two legged sheep'?"
"I mean I did not grow up as stupid as you did."
"How did you grow up?"Fallon's tone was sharp.
"Fallon," Berin warned in exasperation.
"I grew up fine."
Fallon resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, it was a teenage habit she was trying to wean herself off,because she was now twenty two. She had known all along that this was a bad idea, her grandmother hated everyone. Fallon knew the old woman had only agreed to the interview because it will gave her a chance to torment her granddaughter and was a relief from the boredom of the nursing home.
"Okay moving on,how was your adolescence?"
"Fine."
"Were you popular?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
Fallon sighed and pushed down the queasy feeling that had been coming up since she set foot in the nursing home. She had to admit that it was not as clean as a human dwelling place should be, but she did not blame the staff; they probably weren't paid enough. She wondered if her grandmother had had any diaper change since the previous day, guessing from the smell of her, probably not.
"Fallon? You there?" Berin asked.
"Yes. Yes. Just feeling a little sick, give me a second, I will be right back."
She rushed to the bathroom and was just in time to close the door to the stall before emptying all of her breakfast contents in the toilet. She stayed there for several minutes, making sure everything was out. A few heaves and groans later, she walked out of the stall and went to the sink. She did not bother looking at herself in the mirror, she knew she did not look her best at all. She rinsed her mouth and splashed some water across her face. She had a sensitive stomach, she had to remember not to think of her grandmother's diaper again any time soon.
"Are you okay?" asked a girl who was applying lipstick at the next sink.
Fallon looked at the girl in the mirror and blinked, twice. The girl looked exactly like Gina Fairway, but it just couldn't be. Gina was a famous actress. She was the most interesting person in Hollywood at the moment, having just bagged her first Oscar at twenty one, there was no way she could be standing in this dilapidated nursing home bathroom in Miami, smelling the same ammonia from old people's urine as Fallon.
"Has someone ever told you you look an awful lot like Gina Fairway?" Fallon asked, the journalist in her finally winning over. She sensed a story, a big one. If Gina Fairway was here in Miami,there had to be a reason. And if the girl wasn't Gina Fairway, Fallon could do a story on doppelgangers; it sure sounded a lot cooler than a story on old people who wore diapers and hated you.
The girl smiled,and immediately, Fallon knew she had to be Gina Fairway, no one else but a celebrity could have teeth so white.
"I get that a lot," the girl replied.
Fallon's heart was racing with excitement. Her dream to become a Hollywood reporter suddenly didn't seem so far fetched. She began to regret why she had not grabbed her recorder.
"But seriously, are you okay? I heard you in the sink, you sounded like you were really ill."
Fallon forced on a smile, "I am fine, sensitive stomach. I loved you in The Wellingtons; you have impeccable comedic timing," Fallon complimented evenly, taking care not to gush. She knew celebrities got really uncomfortable over being gushed over.The last thing she needed was Gina walking out on her before she got her story.
Gina frowned, "Are you a reporter?"
"No," Fallon replied quickly, "Why would you think I am a reporter?"
Gina shrugged and applied some mascara "Because that is how reporters start conversations, friendly, knowledgeable, complimentary. Before you know it, you are in their web and you have said something really stupid."
Fallon felt a little ashamed of her profession in that moment. Exposing people's dirty laundry for a living sounded so... ruthless. Yes, now that she was seeing it from Gina's eyes, it didn't have the same appeal.
"I wouldn't mind if you were a reporter though, I would even give you an interview if you want, just let me know what I am dealing with beforehand," Gina offered.
Fallon licked her patched lips, "I am not a reporter, just a Journalism major and I wasn't planning on reporting anything."
Gina nodded and looked her up and down, "A student, huh?"
"Yes."
"So, what do you want?"
"What?"
"What do you want from me?"
"Pardon?"
"What do you want to forget that you and I met here?"
"Are you..." Fallon's voice trailed off, "wait a second, are you trying to buy me off when I literally have nothing on you? Must be one hell of a story I have stumbled on."
Gina gave her a blank look, "There is no story genius.I am here for charity purposes; in fact, I am here with a reporter. I just don't want to wake up and find a tabloid detailing how I touch up my makeup, okay? I just want you to let me have a few seconds alone. Is that too much to ask for?"
Fallon felt a little pity for the poor girl.Gina had been in the spotlight since she was nine years old, she must be used to everyone around her using every aspect of her life for a story. Fallon decided that whatever Hollywood story she was planning in her head would just have to wait, she just couldn't bring herself to do that to Gina. Journalists use people,it is what they do,if you can't do that, then you are not cut for it, her professor's voice reminded her. Fallon shut down the voice.
"Sorry. I will just head back to my grandmother. Have a nice day."
Fallon walked out of the bathroom, and headed back to her grandmother's room without a backward glance. If Gina really was here for charity purposes, she ought to be left alone, because this dump needed all the charity it could get.
"What took you so long? I have been waiting for years," her grandmother complained when Fallon appeared.
Fallon didn't feel like interviewing her anymore. She began to collect her things, "That's it Berin. I am out of here."
"Huh?"Berin's confused voice asked from the phone, "Alloy, are you okay?"
Her name was Fallon but her nickname was Alloy, it didn't make a lot of sense, but neither did Bill make sense as a nickname for William so Fallon just went with it.
"I am out of here. Reschedule the interview or let's just do another project that does not involve the old cow," she was already out of the doors of the nursing home, her grandmother's insults following her.
"We can't just do another project. I have already filmed everything, we just need bits from your interview and editing, it is almost done. The submission deadline is a month away Fallon, don't bail on me."
Fallon switched off her phone without replying to Berin and hurried to her car. It was an old Toyota that looked shabby anywhere, but next to the shiny truck that was parked there, it looked dead. She realized that Gina Fairway had indeed been telling the truth when she saw the logo on the truck, it was a reputable local news agency. She got into her car and drove away from the nursing home, towards town. She needed an ice cream and a pat on the back for walking away from a story like that, because Fallon was sure that in spite of Gina's well acted out bathroom speech,she was hiding something.
Several ice creams and hours later, Fallon sat before her sister in their one bedroom apartment, with her head down, receiving the scolding she knew she deserved.
"Honestly Fallon, if you want to throw our parents' hard work down the drain by failing on your final project, that's fine, just don't drag me down with you," Berin concluded.
Fallon wanted to argue that technically, their parents hard work was all invested in Berin but she just couldn't bring herself to be that cruel to their memory. While she had to make her way through college on students loans and working three jobs, Berin had sailed through on a gymnastics scholarship. Growing up, every cent was always saved up to pay for Berin's gymnastic training. Their mother had wanted the Olympics, but unfortunately, both parents had passed away a year before the games. Berin had been left with no choice but to set her mind on college since there was no one to pay her gym bill anymore. Even though their grandma was one mean bitch, she was the one who had taken care of Fallon financially throughout her last year of high school and even got her started in college.
"I am sorry, okay?" Fallon said gently.
Berin ran a hand through her lush dark hair and sighed, "It just feels like I am the one carrying all the load you know? It feels like we are children again and I am the one left with the responsibility of being good because you have decided not to make an effort at all."
Fallon knew Berin's assessment was a fair one. Fallon was two years younger than Berin and growing up, she had been the screw up; bad grades, failed classes, boyfriends in the room and drinking. It was only after her parents' death that she had began to be responsible and take school seriously.
"I am sorry," said Fallon bursting into tears so suddenly that she surprised even herself, "I just felt sick and I went to the bathroom and when I came back, I couldn't stay. I am going to go back tomorrow, I...."
"That's the third time this week," Berin observed, studying her sister quizzically.
"What do you mean? It was the first time I have tried the interview."
"No. I mean the third time you have gotten sick in the morning. Maybe you need to look into that."
Fallon's tears dried up immediately, "Don't be ridiculous. I am perfectly fine. On the pill, remember? And even if I wasn't Tom and I used protection. We always do."
Berin pointed at the kitchen cabinet where a number of pregnancy test kits were stored, "Only one way to be sure."
"I am telling you, I am perfectly fine."
"It is a less than one minute pee on a stick Alloy. It won't kill you. Just to be sure, you know cause the pill messes up your periods and you know it."
"Fine. I pee on the damn stick and you forgive me?"
Berin nodded, "Deal."
Twenty minutes later, Fallon sank down on the floor of the bathroom with exactly fifteen pregnancy tests before her, each displaying positive results. She had exhausted all of Berin's stash and yet, she was still insisting that they go out and buy more just to be sure.
"They could be expired! Or malfunctioning or..." Fallon's voice sounded weak, scared.
Berin patted her shoulder gently, "I purchased those last week."
"But..."
"Give me your phone," Berin commanded.
Feeling numb, Fallon handed over her phone. Berin scrolled through it for a few seconds, tapped on it a few times then handed it back to her.
"There. I have started the conversation for you."
On the screen, a four worded message to Tom was displayed, Fallon read it with trepidation.
We need to talk.
They sure as hell needed to talk, and they needed to do it ASAP.