2
Frankie
A few weeks after that
The door chimed,and my head shot up from where I’d been straightening a rack of hand-painted postcards. This rack, coincidentally with a direct view of the door, had been reorganized several times in the last weeks.
The last customer waved as he left. I sighed softly.
A person would hope, at this point, I’d stop getting a bolt of adrenaline every time the door opened.
I feel like I’ve known you …
Such a weird way of saying he recognized me, like he was actually trying to say something else, but the words were stuck in my brain, nonetheless. Maybe I should have given him my name. Or asked for his. Literally any speck of information about him. Instead, my imagination played on repeat: Mr. Soulful Eyes, looking at me hopefully, and then that hope crumbled as I hurried away. But I hesitated when he asked for more information for a reason. That hopeful gleam in his haunting blue eyes was all too familiar, all too alluring. There was a time in my life when I would not have hesitated to take his phone and add my number. That person didn’t even feel like me anymore. She hadn’t in a long time. I had no room in my life for any more unforeseen complications. The neon glowing sign of my life flashed “No vacancies!”
Brooks came to my side, nudging me back to the here and now. “Sorry you had to stay so late, Frankie.”
“I don’t mind,” I said.
Brooks was one of those naturally gorgeous people. Aside from the blond beach waves that flowed down her back and her large dark eyes, she just had an air of someone who knew themselves. She had a nose piercing and wore hats. That alone made her immediately cooler than me. She defined boho beauty before it was a trendy aesthetic. We are close in age, early thirties, yet she ran an entire business in a luxury tourist town. Her confidence was so magnetic every eye went to her in every room.
Except for his. He hadn’t looked at her like he’d looked at me. I swallowed a painful lump in my throat.
Brooks twirled the rack, examining my work. When I came across her and this store two years ago, I felt an instant connection to her. She said we were soul sisters and took me in as her friend.
“Did you alphabetize the—never mind.” She shook her head. “Your organization skills freak me out. It makes me wonder yet also understand how you could still be working for Sedar after all this time.”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day, as they say,” I said, but it was so much more than the archiving that took my time these days.
She rested her head on my shoulder, and I tensed at the contact. Brooks was so free with affection. So much like Collette in that way. It freaked me out when I first met her, but I learned to go with it. I patted her head.
“That makes you my super extra favorite person. I didn’t expect this holiday rush. I think I would have curled up in a ball under the desk without your help. I really didn’t expect you to work so much. Especially pro bono …” She looked up, cringing a smile.
Of course, I could have used the money, but Brooks needed to keep her business afloat, and having an excuse to be away from George’s was helpful.
“I like being here. It’s downright relaxing compared to the archiving and organizing a million boxes of loose-leaf paper. Plus, George had company this weekend anyway. I would have just made it weird.”
“Well, that’s not true but I appreciate you.” She straightened off me. “But it’s almost Christmas, go home.”
“It’s not my home,” I muttered. It was an important distinction.
“Sure. Buthomeis a lot easier than saying that place where you’ve basically been staying the past few years, keep all your stuff, work most days, and also sort of take care of a man and child.”
“Fair.”
This transition period with George was only ever supposed to be temporary. I came to my former foster parent looking for help, knowing he was the only person from my past I could count on. I hated that I needed help. I didn’t want to be another person who took advantage of his kindness, but I tried to make up for it by doing whatever he asked. He needed somebody to clean up, organize, and archive everything from old handwritten book notes to behind-the-scenes footage from the show based on his books to fan letters and everything and anything in between. Almost every room in his huge home was filled to the brim withTerraformativememorabilia in some way. I was still up to my neck in work. Add in a local best friend, a little niece who I felt responsible for, a never-ending to-do list, and absolutely no job skills fit for a résumé, and … I had yet to move on from this pit stop on the journey of my unpredictable life.
I absolutely did not need anything else added.
Out the front windows, Main Street quieted down and twinkled with lights.
“Seriously. Go. The rush is over,” Brooks said as she tracked my gaze and looked outside.
I glanced at the time. “Okay, I think his guests should have left anyway. Are you sure you don’t want me to wait and help you close out?”
“Goooo.” She pushed me to the counter to grab my coat and bag. “Stop stalling.”
Brooks closed the blinds on the main door as I slipped into my coat. If mystery man hadn’t shown up by now, I wasn’t likely to see him again.
