Chapter 464: St. Luke in the Field
Tuesday, February 14th, Afternoon
After nearly screaming and having a nervous breakdown, she finished dressing. Now that she's dressed to go outside, she headed down to the parlor level. Slowly, she pulled on her coat, buttoned it, and sighed. She put on a scarf and hat in quick succession then grabbed her bag.
Upon leaving and locking the door, Fallon looked over Waverly Place. Putting on her oversized sunglasses, she walked down her steps. On the sidewalk, she turned down Waverly until she came to Grove Street. Fallon turned down Grove once she could cross the street. There was only one major intersection between here and Hudson Street, and that's Seventh Avenue.
Once Fallon closed Bleecker Street, she started to feel the pull. Further down Grove, before she crossed Bedford Street, she came to the building used for Friends' exterior shots. Fallon shrugged, never had much use for the show Friends. Shaking it off, she finished her walk down Grove to Hudson Street.
Almost directly across the street was her destination. Behind a black cast iron fence stood a simple brick building with a square tower. It gave off the vibes of being a simple village parish church somewhere in England. Fallon nodded; it is the Church of St. Luke in the Fields.
This West Village Church Fallon fell in love with her sophomore year at NYU. After she bought her brownstone, she started looking for a church to attend. Of all of Brooke's children, Fallon was the only one that attended religious services regularly. Fallon began doing it her junior year after her dad's murder. She had gotten close to one of the basketball players who came, a religious family. He started taking her to his church. The religion and the sense of community helped her. Not that she connected with the message, but it helped her through dark times.
She attended the same church until she came to New York for college. Fallon and the boy drifted apart, and she couldn't find a service or community that she craved. It made her freshman year hell. Near the end of her freshman year, she wandered the East Village, found this church, and connected for her.
Finally, Fallon crossed Hudson Street and headed over to the church. Once at the front door, she took several deep breaths, finally she opened the door, and walked in. The white walls and dark wood trim greeted her welcomingly. As she walked deeper into the church, her feet landed on the white and black floor tile. Passing the font, she walked down the central aisle.
As she passed the pews, she ran a finger over the polished wood. Fallon walked down a few more rows and came to one where she usually sat. Quietly, she slid into the seat and looked towards the altar.
Fallon leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. She clenched her hands together and started to shake. All she could do was look forward.
She tried to slow her breath, which has been elevated since her phone call with Grant. She lowered her head, resting it on top of her hands. Fallon closed her eyes and kept trying to calm down.
Fallon took her breath in a measured rhythm. Her world felt like it was falling upon her. The walls started to close in on her. Fallon felt she was in her own prison. A prison of her own creation.
Fallon picked her head up and sighed. Her eyes looked up at the white walls. Yes, she was trapped, enclosed, but Fallon shook her head. This was her own fault, her game she played. Her own insecurities brought this on. These games never got this deep or lasted this long. Fallon sighed; most of her "relationships" were short-lived and superficial at best.
New Years', that's when this game, this dangerous game, started. Damn them at the Foundation and how she ended up at that party. That's where she met Grant. Damn, if he hadn't been so charming, so considerate, and gentlemanly. Every moment she spent with him seemed so special. That kiss in Greenwich Village was magical.
Fallon shifted in her seat, decided to lean back, and looked up. Slowly, she unclenched her hands and started to tap her fingertips together. Fallon watched her nails play against each other; the muted colors she preferred played off the sunlight coming through the window.
The sounds from the nearby 's school filtered into the church; children, Fallon always loved children, but she couldn't have any. Part of her game was developed from that and those insecurities.
Every man wants an heir; that's what her mom and grandma told her. Spending time with Brooke's daughters and their big family made her wish she had a sister, a brother, or anything. That's why in New York, she was closer to Candi than Chase or Izzy. Candi was another only child, and they looked to each other as surrogate sisters. After moving in with Brooke and her family, Fallon felt like she was part of a family for the first time, and then Keni came along. Fallon knew that moment she wanted a family for herself.
It was her junior year of college; she went to the doctor with pain in her stomach. The net sum difference was issues that threw her body into a hellish spiral. It was also the worst day of her life; she learned about her fertility issues because of that visit.
The fertility issues added to her insecurities. Fallon played with her nails; men wanted heirs, that's what she was told. Now even with her legacy, she couldn't pass it on. That made Keni her heir, and that's what Fallon had done, prepare the way for Keni.
Yet, Fallon still played her games. For her, the matches got shorter and more superficial, but there were other things. That summer, after discovering her infertility, she played one game, a different game, which was not for her, but someone else.
Trin gave her the opportunity, and Brooke gave her the means and players. Keith and Izzy followed her back to New York. Fallon tried everything she could do to get them back together, but issues with Elliott helped. Fallon went out to Long Island and gave Keith and Izzy a push together.
Fallon leaned forward again and rested her head on her arm. Since she arrived in the church, she actually reached out to talk for the first time. She asked not for forgiveness but for guidance on ending this cycle and stopping her games. Fallon admitted to herself it was her fault and her failings. Fallon didn't ask for forgiveness; she only wanted guidance and strength for what she knew; what she needed to do. In Fallon's mind, there was no room for forgiveness.
Fallon smiled, her mind shifting again. No, Keni wouldn't be the only one benefitting from the Stafford legacy. Each one of her sister's children had a trust in their name for college, up to a Master's degree, with a little leftover to help them until they found employment. Fallon knew she was a good person, but she always played her games.
Standing up, she left the pew and started to walk towards the door. Fallon looked up to see the pipes of the pipe organ and the choir loft. Shifting around the font, she passed under the choir loft.
The church door opened, and one of the Reverends walked into the church. Fallon and the Reverend looked each other over. The Reverend smiled as she looked at Fallon.
"Fallon, this is a surprise," The Reverend said.
"I thought I'd come for some guidance, Reverend," Fallon said.
"Oh yeah?" The Reverend asked.
"Yeah," Fallon said and nodded.
"What was this about?" The Reverend asked.
"It's personal between me and …." Fallon said.
"The boss?" The Reverend asked.
"Yes, the boss," Fallon said.
"If you need to talk, Fallon, my door is always open," The Reverend said.
"Thank you," Fallon said and started to walk out of the church.
"Oh, Fallon," The Reverend said.
Fallon stopped and looked at The Reverend. "Yes?" she asked.
"Happy Valentine's Day," The Reverend said.
"Thank you," Fallon said and left the church.
