I actually had thought of that, but it felt weird or icky when I had primary source material right here. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t exactly a fountain of information when it came to my own past. “You know, I’m sorry. I’m being nosy,” I said. I went to turn forward when he reached into the small space between us to gently still me with a hand on my forearm.
“It’s okay. I’m giving you a hard time. But trust me, if I show you mine, you have to show me yours.” His tone was light as the hairs on my arm stood. “The truth is that there isn’t much to tell. I’m not close with my family back in London. My mum was older when she had me. She wasn’t especially interested in being a mom. I was a difficult child and she pushed me into acting because it was the only time I seemed to settle. But as soon asTerraformativestarted, she stayed in London when she got married and I spent most of my time alone in the States. Well, not alone. I had caretakers she hired and spent so many summers here. She sends a card on my birthday. I send regular checks. We all live in peace.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, emotionless. He genuinely didn’t seem bothered by any of it.
Alone. This was not exactly an enthusiastic description of his life. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine. I don’t normally talk about it because it’s pretty anticlimactic. I’ve led an incredible life otherwise so I’m not complaining. I just don’t have that close family you see on TV. Besides George. That’s why I’m here. That’s what he’s always been to me.” I opened my mouth to say something that expressed my complete understanding.
It felt impossible to me that I could have this much in common with a mega celebrity. How could anybody that successful hint at such a lonely existence? It was funny in a tragic sort of way that we both found a family in the same household. Did he know that George had fostered me? Did it ever come up? He had already finished wrapping the show, and his career was skyrocketing by the time I was sent to George’s, so our paths never crossed in the short but life-changing time I’d lived with George and William. I had so much that I wanted to say, but my silence was misinterpreted when he turned back to the screen.
“Ready to finish the movie?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“I’ll go make some popcorn. We will need sustenance for the final climax and denouement.”
I watched him leave and worried I’d pulled a classic Frowny Frankie and ruined the good vibes. The conversation was over. I stared forward, not seeing the television for some time, thinking how impossible it seemed that one of the most well-known people on the planet could be that alone. I didn’t like how it clashed with the idea I had of him in my head.
He really did want to be here. His effervescent joy tonight had been genuine. It ached deep in my chest at the thought that a simple night in with us three would have brought him so much joy. And not just him, it was one of the best nights I’d had in a long time.
* * *
Harrison
I shutthe microwave quietly even though little would wake George and Collette sleeping upstairs. The machine hummed to life, and I blinked at the rotating bag. What had started as a distraction had ended up being a healing night for me. Had Frankie seen how much the evening had meant to me? The irony was not lost on me that simple nights playing games with the people I loved was the fantasy for me, while the life I led was the fantasy for so many people. Was it possible to have both? Was I fooling myself?
I thought too long about Frankie’s thoughtful reaction to my sad, lonely life. She was still so hard to read in many ways, but I understood those long silences meant she was processing information, carefully choosing her next words. Maybe I should have lied about life or made up some exciting half-truth to make me seem less pathetic. Only, I didn’t want anything but whole truths with her. We were working together in a situation that was already hard enough, there was no need to complicate it with deceptions.
A burning smell filled the air. When had the rapid popping stopped?
“Ah, bullocks!” I muttered, quickly opening the microwave and waving the contents. No smoke to set off the smoke detectors, thankfully, but the acrid smell of burned kernels told me we wouldn’t be snacking on popcorn after all.
I tugged at my hair, annoyed at myself. It wasn’t helping my image of responsibility to burn a food that literally had a preprogrammed button. I tossed the blackened bag into the trash and went back out to the sitting room.
“Funny story about the—”
I cut myself off the moment I rounded the corner to find Frankie sleeping soundly.
She must have been more exhausted than she let on to have fallen asleep so quickly. That or I had been longer than I thought. Both equally plausible.
I grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and gently covered Frankie, careful not to disturb her. She seemed so different in her sleep, more relaxed. Though she shared that same angry furrow between her brows that Collette had that made them seem slightly annoyed by the act of sleeping, like it was a necessary evil that got in the way of more important things.
I went back to my side of the sofa and turned off the telly. It didn’t surprise me that I found my attraction and feelings for Frankie hadn’t dulled in these last few days. What had surprised me was this ferocious need to protect her and Collette. It was a primal instinct that made me sit too long on the sofa, staring straight ahead, standing sentry to protect her sleep. She acted without thoughts of herself. She’s doing so much. It’s as though she was sprinting to a finish line, but what was it? And how far was it? Could she continue at this pace? Who would be there for her if she collapsed?
She sighed and shifted onto her back in her sleep. Her legs stretched out as far as they could until the soles of her feet hit my thighs.
I’d stay here just a little bit longer, make sure she was plenty rested to start all over tomorrow.
