34
Frankie
Two weeks.Two weeks and Harrison still hadn’t been able to leave LA. I was unmoored and restless. When Collette was at school and George was napping or with Otis the OT, I paced the house, looking for tasks but unable to focus on anything.
I thought I was okay. I had made peace with these feelings. Thislove. But love shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t grip me like panic and terror. This wasn’t right. Maybe I’d been confused. This shadow loomed just behind me, and no matter how many lights I turned on, I couldn’t burn it out.
I’d grown too comfortable. Let myself adjust to the roots but felt more adrift than ever. We were just about to hit six months of no word from Joey. The lawyer had the documentation ready for the courts. Without the child abandonment filing, I couldn’t get custody granted. There was no official paperwork tying Collette to this house or George. As far as the courts were concerned, he was just a man in mental decline. It shouldn’t be as hard since I was related by blood if I wanted to keep Collette.
I couldn’t decide what was right for Collette. Was I being selfish, or were Harrison and I really the best family for her?
How could I be the best choice for her?
How could I be the best choice for anybody when feelings of love and devotion caused me to panic? I was this hump-backed little Gollum gripping to love, waiting for it to be ripped from my fingers.
And now this. This stark reminder of what real life would be like with a movie star as a parent. It would be all on me, and wasn’t that defeating the point? George and Collette would be dependent on me twenty-four seven. Yes, the book would be done any day now, in theory, but could I do this all alone? Be in this house alone in my mind that would never stop wondering about the countless other paths I should have taken.
I paced back to the office and tried to work on the book, but I was too anxious to focus.
My phone rang, and I answered it immediately.
“Hey, Frankie.” I could tell by Harrison’s tone that it wasn’t good news.
I closed my eyes, and the looming shadow blurred the edges of my vision.
“Hey, are you headed back?” I asked, already knowing he’d let me down.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said. “This movie has just been one disaster after another. Iwillbe back by this weekend at the latest. I just have to do some damage control.”
With every promise, a layer of ice grew over me. I’d heard these excuses before, time and time again. Another actor, another broken promise.
Protect yourself.
“Don’t bother,” I said. My voice sounded distant, unlike my own.
“Don’t bother? Are you serious?” His voice cracked, and I could hear his own exhaustion. I knew he was working hard. I knew he wanted to be here. Yet I couldn’t stop the sharp words that flew out of my tongue. It felt like it cost something to just admit that I was flailing without him, that I had grown to rely on and need him this much. It made me feel weak and pathetic.
“There’s no point,” I said.
His background grew quiet as I heard shuffling and a door close. “Frankie, please don’t shut down. Let me turn the video on. Let me see you.”
“This was always supposed to end,” I said.
Visceral panic took over, gripped my throat, and it genuinely didn’t feel like me talking anymore. I watched another person operate my body. I watched my mother drive away for that last time. I’m alone. I’m alone. Nobody to care for me. Nobody to keep me safe. I was both numb and tingly. Like I was dying but aware of every cell in my whole body. I couldn’t move.
This wasn’t a normal reaction to bad news. This wasn’t normal or good.
“I don’t want anything to end,” he said. There was a beeping as he tried to video call me. I ignored it. “Please let me see you, Frankie. I-I know this is bullocks but please don’t push me away. Is that really what you want?” The panic in his voice had me squeezing my eyes shut tight.
“It doesn’t matter what we want. We aren’t happily ever after people. At least not together,” I said.
“Says who?” I flinched at his anger. “You need to make a choice,” he said with vehemence. “Stop letting your past define you. Stop letting your sister rule you. It’s your choice. This isourfamily.” His voice broke, and I bit my lip to keep a sob from escaping.
Why was I fighting him so hard? Why was I chasing the pain?
“That’s not fair,” I whispered.
“No. You aren’t being fair. We’ve come too far for you to act like this. Like we aren’t a family. You told me that I was easy to love. Let me love you. Let me love you, Frankie. Be the courageous woman I know you are. You can choose this for us. Please. Have faith in me,” he begged.
