“I thought you said she left to audition.”
“She’s going back for a second one with the male lead or something. To see if they have chemistry.” The thought of Frankie having chemistry—even the pretend kind—with anyone but me triggers a burning in my chest that might be jealousy.
“That sounds like a pretty big deal, Cal. She must be excited.” Mom drops coffee grounds in the pot, and the smell brings back a thousand memories of Frankie in her wig and glasses, freckles scattered across her nose, asking if I wanta refill.
“She was…is.” The burning in my chest cools into something else. Regret mixed with something that could be pride.
The woman who I’m a little in love with is about to catch the dream she’s been chasing. Suddenly, I want to tell someone about it. “Yeah, the movie’s based on a book by some famous author. Frederica Something. Or maybe that’s the name of the movie.” I squint at the oatmeal, trying to remember exactly what Frankie told me.
Something metal clanks to the floor. My eyes dart to the coffee scoop and grounds at Mom’s feet then to her face. Her wide eyes stare back at me.
“You okay, Ma?”
“Someone’s making a movie ofFredericaby Georgette Heyer?” She asks breathlessly.
“Yeah. I think that’s it. Have you read it?” I have a vague memory from when I was a kid of her bedside table stacked with books where the covers all had women in flowy dresses and men in cravats, or whatever they’re called.
“And Frankie is going to be in it?” She clasps her hands and bounces, kind of like Junie this morning before I broke her heart by telling her Frankie left.
“It’s not a sure thing yet, but probably, yeah.”
Mom lets out a breath. “Oh, that’s very exciting. That’s a movie I’d like to see. Is Frankie playing Frederica? Do you think she could get us tickets to the premiere?”
I shake my head. “I think you’re missing the point here. The movie is the reason she’s gone back to Hollywood and back to being famous.”
Mom blinks rapidly, like she can’t believe what I’ve said, then schools her emotions. “And you don’t want to be part of that life? I understand.”
The oatmeal bubbles. I turn down the heat and cover it, happy not to look at the angry beige mush. “It’s not just that Idon’t want to be part of her fame, I don’t want Junie to be part of that life.”
“What life is that son?”
“You know.” I wave my hands like I’m trying to conjure a picture for her. “Hollywood. Glamour. Glitter.”
She blinks, then bursts into a laugh. “You sound a thousand years old.”
“Thanks, Ma.” I set down the spoon and turn to leave.
“I’m sorry, Cal. I didn’t mean to laugh.” She grabs my elbow, nudging me to face her again. “I never thought of Frankie as someone who’s impressed with her own fame. I look at her and see someone who adores your daughter enough to have tea parties with her, to jump on the trampoline with her for an hour when it’s ninety degrees outside, to braid her hair and not panic when Junie has a meltdown.”
If she’d stopped there, I would have felt guilty enough, but then she delivers a final blow.
“I see someone who’s absolutely in love with you.” She ends on a smile that threatens to unravel my certainty that I did the right thing.
“I’ve gotta take a shower.” This time she doesn’t stop me when I leave.
I don’t really need another shower. All I’ve done is sleep restlessly since my last one, but maybe I can wash away all the doubts Mom’s stirred up.
Sadly, not even a very long shower can work that kind of miracle.
But no new doubts pop up while I’m standing under the cold water. After I put on clothes, I avoid Mom for the rest of the morning, so she doesn’t cause any more trouble. Junie, however, doesn’t make it any easier for me to forget Frankie. I can’t dodge the truth with her either, but she’s too young to understand why I need to protect her.
Although, I guess Mom didn’t understand my reasons any better than Junie would.
I know who will though, so after I drop off Junie at school, I head to Flamingo’s, where I’m sure nobody will question my decision to let Frankie go back to Hollywood.
But when I sit down next to Gerry, his first question is, “You didn’t bring Frankie with you?”
There’s zero anger in his voice. Only disappointment.
