40
Frankie
Things settleddown after we all got back from Nevada. By the time Harrison finished shooting his current—and last project for a while—it was almost Christmas again. I was never more grateful to have a boring, old, consistent schedule. I stopped looking over my shoulder for the shadow, waiting to take everything away, and instead turned my face up toward the shining sun.
Collette and Harrison were playing outside, building a snowman. I watched from the kitchen window with a smile on my face. I’d only heard from Joey once since she was checked in at rehab. She didn’t sound happy, but she sounded stable. She also made sure to mention how nice the spa was. I would take that for now. She asked that I didn’t talk about Collette or tell her where she was. Collette hadn’t asked.
“Francesca?” George snuck up behind me.
“Hey. You okay? Want some tea?” I turned to him.
“Yes. The good stuff. And some biscuits. Meet me in my study.” He shuffled away.
Tray loaded a few minutes later, and I met George in front of the fireplace in his office. I loved the smell of this room. I loved sitting in here with him. Maybe he’d want to write another book, something new. Instead of the idea filling me with high expectations or dread, I felt a strange sense of giddiness at the idea. Kate had also mentioned possibly working on something together.
But there was another little nugget of an idea swirling in the back of my brain. So precious and tiny that I didn’t even tell anyone but Harrison about it. I had an idea for a children’s book about a lost pirate, orphaned at a young age, who travels the seas, and along the way, meets the family she never had.
Harrison thought it wasbloody brilliant,but for now, I just let it percolate in the back of my mind.
“Penny for your thoughts?” George asked, bushy eyebrows raised.
“Just wool-gathering.”
“Let’s chat,” he sat across from me. Interestingly enough, our last grand adventure perked him up a bit, so we decided to take him on more day trips when Harrison was back for a weekend or a few days at a time. It seemed to be helping his energy more than we expected.
I focused on that instead of the last time I was in his office to have a serious conversation, and we talked about ghosts and deadlines.
“I wanted to show you this.” He reached around to hand me a heavy hardcover. “Now, it’s just an early proof. That’s not the most recent manuscript, so nobody else can read it, but I wanted you to see.”
I gasped as he handed me the last book in theTerraformativeseries. My heart lodged in my throat as I ran my hand over the matte cover.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. My heart skipped as my fingertips ran over the title. “Wait. No. George.”
“Yes. It’s only right,” he said, already cutting off my protests.
Under G.S. Sedar was the printed name “F. Ricci.”
“But … Won’t this hurt sales?” I asked, shocked at how lovely it was to see my name there. Evidence of the hours and heart I’d put into this story.
“I’ve had more preorders than I’ve had in my entire career. The warehouse has already said they won’t have enough for additional orders. But even if that weren’t the case, I would still want your name on that cover,” he said.
“This is too much.”
“No. It’s what’s deserved. I would have had you bigger and centered on top with mine, but intellectual property and all that. The publisher wasn’t having it. You wrote this book, my dear. It is your book as much as mine.”
My mouth opened and closed before I shut it entirely to keep from crying.
“And just so you know. From here out, the covers of the last two books are getting updated as well. You co-wrote those. The publishers were less thrilled, but I threatened to take my name off altogether, and they were flexible.”
“Oh, George. You wonderful, silly man.” I shook my head.
“There is one thing though.” I looked up when I heard the trepidation in his voice. “The spelling. I wasn’t sure if you wanted a pen name. Or, ahem, maybe.” He slid over official-looking paperwork. “I was talking with Bob and the team, and honestly, I don’t care what name you go by, but I was hoping at least, legally, you’d be my daughter. You always have been, and now it’s time we made it official.”
I blinked down at the papers, unable to believe this was really happening. Unable to comprehend just how much it meant to me. A family already, but now a family officially. “You want to adopt me?” I was worried he was having a memory issue. “You know, I’m quite old now, George, right?”
“Oh, bosh. You’re basically a baby. And it wouldn’t matter if you were ninety. I still want you to be my next of kin.”
My heart lodged itself firmly in my throat. I stood up to lean forward and hug him. He hugged me back and I sniffled.
