An hour later, Flamingo’s is even busier than it was the last time I came in. The whole place is crowded with tourists. When we have to wait for a spot at the counter, I take Junie’s hand and turn to leave.
“We’ll come back later when it’s not so busy, Bug.”
The words aren’t out of my mouth before she’s wrung her hand from mine and runs toward a waitress, wearing a blonde beehive wig with her back to us.
“Frankie!” Junie yells.
From behind, the woman looks like Frankie, and not just because of the wig. She’s tall and slim, and for a second, I’m fooled too. But even before Junie reaches her, I realize she’s not Frankie. Nobody’s eyes are drawn to her. There’s no soft buzz of electricity surrounding her. No invisible magnet pulling me to her.
And a second after that realization comes another. Junie’s about to get her heart broken.
She throws her arms around the back of the waitress who startles and spills the coffee she’s pouring. She sets the pot down and flips around, looking down at my kid like Junie’s an alien who’s attached herself like a bad virus. Junie lifts her head.
“Where’s your parents, kid?” the waitress asks without any of Frankie’s gentleness.
Too late, I rush to Junie. By the time I start toward her, she’s already running to me. I pick her up, and she wraps her arms around my neck and buries her head in my shoulder. She clutches me so tight, my apology to the waitress comes out as a squeak.
“She got you confused with someone else.”
“Let me guess. She thought I was Frankie Forsythe, too.” The waitress scowls then turns back to the table to wipe up the coffee she’s spilled before I can ask her what she means. Who else has made Junie’s same mistake?
Flo will probably give me a less irritated answer, so I carry Junie toward the counter, patting her back and telling her she’s okay. I don’t tell her I’d hoped the woman in Frankie’s uniform and wig was actually Frankie, too.
Once we elbow our way to the full counter, I see Flo’s in the kitchen. I don’t dare break any Health Department rules by taking Junie back there.
“Can I talk to you, Flo?” I call to her.
She glances up from the grill. “Little busy here, Cal. Good to see you again.”
At Flo’s voice, Junie lifts her head and angles her body to see Flo. “Can I have pancakes, peas?” she yells over the noise of the diner, with only one small hiccough.
“Course you can, Birthday Girl!” Flo calls back.
Gerry swivels around, then squeezes out of his seat at the counter. “It’s your birthday, Junie? You better take the birthday chair!”
Pearl shuffles over with Junie’s booster seat. “I’ve got your magic chair right here,” she says gruffly before setting it in Gerry’s chair, then handing Gerry his half full plate of eggs and toast.
“Doc says I should eat standing, anyway,” he says when I hesitate putting Junie in his seat.
In the seat next to Gerry’s, Barry points to his breakfast. “I’ll take this to go, Pearl. Sit down, Cal.”
He pats me on the back. I wonder how everybody seems to know I’m torn up about Frankie leaving. But it only takes a second to answer my own question: Mom’s talked to Flo.
I don’t have the energy to argue with anyone, and Junie’s getting heavy. I help her into her booster seat, then take Barry’s place next to her. Pearl’s already on the other side of the counter, ready to fill my coffee cup.
“Thank you, Pearl,” I tell her when she slides the cup to me.
“We all miss her,” she grumbles before padding away with the coffee pot.
“Can we watch Frankie?” Junie asks, her eyes still wet.
“How about later?”
Junie shakes her head. I don’t have the energy to argue with her either, so I take out my phone and pull up the video. I turnthe volume down low, so only she’ll be able to hear it, but she’s no dummy. How to use the volume button is as intuitive to her as how to start a DVD was to me when I was her age. She turns it up full blast.
“What’ve you got there?” Larry asks from her other side.
“Frankie. She’s my friend.” Junie turns the phone for a fraction of a second to show Larry.
