Chapter 12
12
There was an easily recognizable giggle in her room. A high-pitched, childlike sound she’d grown used to and very fond of over the years. One that made her smile through the fogginess of a deep sleep, only to shudder her way out of it completely when cold, sticky fingers pressed against her warm face. Franny reached out just in time to catch a tiny hand and received another flurry of giggles when she clasped it tightly in her own.
“What are you doing here, little girl?” Her voice was thick from eight hours of disuse. “How did you get in my house?”
“Waking you up,” Amelia said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “My daddy brought me. He says you need to wake up and come make us french toast for traveling so far to see you.”
Franny wrapped her arms around her niece’s little torso and sat up in bed with her. “You want french toast too, huh?”
She nodded, her hair waving. “With lots of strawberries on top.”
“All right, all right, let me get up and out of bed first, and I’ll be in there.” She laid a kiss on Amelia’s forehead, then picked her up and placed her on the ground next to her bed. “Tell your daddy that he’s gonna get enough of making demands of me too.”
There was pure, unadulterated glee on Amelia’s face as she scrambled away. Franny could only imagine how jumbled her message would be once it finally reached her brother.
Fifteen minutes later, with her teeth brushed and face washed, she walked into the kitchen to see Will and Amelia sitting next to each other at her tiny kitchen table. The six-year-old was forcing her father to watch a YouTube video and getting adorably annoyed anytime he looked away from the screen.
“What type of bread do you want me to use for this french toast?” Franny didn’t bother with a greeting as she started pulling ingredients out of the fridge.
“Oh, I thought I wasn’t allowed to make demands of you,” Will said without looking at her. “And here I brought you a bunch of my restaurant’s banchan and everything.”
Apparently, Amelia was getting better at repeating things in their entirety.
“You only ever do that if Umma told you to because she’s too far away to do it herself. You want the french toast or not? I don’t have anywhere to be for hours, so I can definitely go back to bed.”
He had one of those patented older-brother smirks on his face that made Franny want to chuck a loaf of bread at him.
“I think I saw some brioche in the bread box,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “You think you can get it on the plate in under thirty minutes?”
“Probably.” She was already whisking together the eggs and milk. “Hold up. You’re leaving right after you eat? You’re not even going to help me clean up?”
“Maybe if you’d gotten up earlier than eleven. Amelia has a birthday party she’s got to get to by two, and we still have to get the kid a gift,” Will said. “I don’t know why I had to hear from Mom that you’d gotten hurt, but we basically just drove down to make sure your head was still attached to your shoulders since you won’t answer anybody’s calls.”
Franny groaned, turning up the heat on her gas stove and putting a pat of butter in the skillet. “I told Umma I was fine. It was an accident.”
Her brother pursed his lips, clearly unimpressed. “It doesn’t matter if it was an accident or not, Fran-Fran. You’re out here all alone. We’re lucky I can get to you within a couple hours. When something happens, you need to tell us so we can take care of you.”
Franny was silent for a few moments as she quickly chopped up a few strawberries. She thought about the situation that had taken place in this very kitchen not two days ago. Jade Dunn making her dinner, them making out, the other woman running away like a bat out of hell.
She also thought about what it had felt like to wake up in her house and feel the comfort of knowing she wasn’t the only one there. Jade had fussed over her, forced her to do something for her own good, and taken care of her when it was all said and done.
It had ended like shit, pure shit. But the middle had been pretty unforgettable.
“I had someone to take care of me,” she mumbled, almost hoping her brother wouldn’t actually decipher the words.
Her luck, apparently, was shit.
“Please tell me it wasn’t who I think it was,” Will groaned, but his eyes were sharp when they looked at her.
“Who?”
“Little Miss Fair-Trade Coffee Bean, ‘I spent a summer touring Southeast Asia and Thai people love me,’ one step above white dreads. Please tell me she isn’t the one taking care of you.”
Franny winced. “No, it’s not her.”
“Thank God, because she sure did a hell of a number on you the last time.”
It wasn’t quite an I-told-you-so, but Franny couldn’t help but take it as one. She spent a lot of time feeling incredibly ashamed about her relationship with Caroline Bailey. Not just because she’d completely lost herself to it and ended up making stupid decisions, but because Caroline had been a genuinely shitty person as well.
Franny had always thought hippie chicks had a certain charm. With their beaded tote bags and crystals. As it turned out, a lot of them were awful bigots. And Caroline may not have been as brazen, but it was there. In the end, all she’d been was a spoiled, rich white girl with enough money to fill a closet with expensive clothes made to look like rags.
Honestly, more than feeling sad or angry at the way things had gone down between them, thinking about it made Franny cringe.
“Who is taking care of you, then, Gomo?” Her niece apparently had not been so distracted by her tablet that she couldn’t keep an ear on the adult conversation.
Franny had finished up breakfast, putting plates in front of her brother and niece while she stood at the counter to eat.
“You know, Amelia, I think now is as good a time as any to remind you that you can always take care of yourself. You don’t need anyone else to do it for you,” Franny said.
Amelia rolled her eyes. Luckily, Will was too engrossed in smothering his breakfast with syrup to notice and scold her. Franny grinned.
“Daddy takes care of Mommy, though,” Amelia argued. “And Mommy always makes sure Daddy eats his lunches and doesn’t lose his keys. That’s good, right?”
“That’s love, baby,” Will cut in.
Amelia seemed to think for a few moments. “Why don’t you have love, Gomo?”
Will snorted so hard it was a surprise bread didn’t come out of his nose.
Franny floundered for a few moments, her jaws flapping like a fish. “I have love.”
How was it that a child had the ability to cut so deep?
“No, you don’t,” Amelia pouted.
Franny walked up to her niece, tickling her in her chair. “You love me, don’t you?”
“Yessss.” The child giggled uncontrollably. “But you need kissy love. So somebody reminds you to take your phone and puts all the pillows on your bed so you stay sitting up when you’re sick.”
Franny pulled away, her food suddenly uninteresting in the face of being absolutely eaten up by a child.
She may not have needed kissy love.
But she fucking wanted it.
Franny dressed up for poker on Thursday. Not too much, but it would be the first time she’d seen Jade in a place where she couldn’t avoid her since their kiss, and she desperately wanted to… well, impress her, if she were being honest.
The other woman had run out of her house so quickly, she’d left no impression that she felt anything other than regret for what had happened. But Franny had been there. She’d felt Jade’s lips as they moved against hers, the beating of her heart, the way her skin heated. Hell, she’d come away from it all with a wet spot on her pants that she hadn’t put there.
It wasn’t as if Franny had expected the kiss to turn the tide on their relationship. Especially not after Jade had reacted to it the way she had. If anything, she’d thought that Jade might just carry on like everything was normal and not acknowledge that it very much was not. Instead, she’d taken to giving Franny the silent treatment. A week of practices and they’d exchanged fewer than five sentences. Jade had even gone so far as to keep as wide a berth as possible. Anytime Franny happened to move close to her, Jade would suddenly find a need to be clear on the other side of the field. It was ridiculous. It was childish. And it was maddening.
Jade Dunn could pretend all she wanted that she was unaffected by her, but Franny knew the truth. The want was mutual. There may have been other things in the way, but that foundational fact was enough to stoke the hope that had started to live in Franny’s heart.
Which is why she entered Landry’s basement in a short-sleeved, patterned button-down shirt, open just enough to show off her collarbones and the thin gold chain she wore. The shirt was half tucked into a pair of Dickies pants that were cuffed just above her Vans. She let her hair hang freely this time, no makeup or anything, but about a hundred nervous swipes of ChapStick across her lips.
She’d seen the way Jade looked at her every time she wore a shirt like this, and she wanted the other woman absolutely salivating under the dim basement lights.
Only… Jade refused to look at her. She was quieter than usual all around, only speaking when spoken to, as the dealer—Landry—doled out their cards and got the game started.
Franny had a hard time focusing on anything other than the woman across from her. She caught every single one of Jade’s micro-expressions, but she wasn’t looking for tells or tics that would help her win the game or show her prowess. Instead, she was looking for something, anything, that would prove Jade was just as affected by Franny as Franny was by her.
Jade gave her less than nothing. She wore a baseball cap that was pulled down so far that it was nearly impossible to see her eyes. Her body shifted in her chair quite often, and Franny could see that her knee was bouncing under the table.
She fought hard not to reach her foot out to still Jade’s leg or get her attention. She wasn’t prepared for the rejection she might face if she did.
By the time they had a small break for the bathroom and snacks, Franny couldn’t have given less of a fuck about the fact that she was nowhere close to winning tonight.
She exchanged a few words with Jeremy Bell about the possibility of having dinner with him and his wife sometime soon. Her response was kind but distracted, and she had to mumble out a quick excuse to walk away the second she spotted Jade alone at the snack table.
“Are you going to avoid me all night?” Franny used all her willpower to keep her voice low and her tone even.
“Are you out of your mind?” Jade was apparently more in the mood to whisper-yell in her direction. “We are not doing this here.”
“Where are we supposed to do it, then? It’s not like you’ll speak to me anywhere else.”
“So what? You want everybody to know about this?”
“About what, Jade?” Franny knew she was being obstinate, but so what? She figured it was her turn anyway. “You keep saying there’s nothing here but then turn around and avoid me like there is.”
“Just keep your damn voice down. And I’m not avoiding you,” Jade mumbled, keeping her attention on spreading some chicken salad on a cracker. “I just have nothing to say.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit,” Franny argued. “You sure had plenty to say the other day.”
Finally, Jade looked up at her, a small sneer on her face. “Oh, you mean when I realized I’d rather be kissing a wooden post than you.”
Franny snorted, her heart thundering. “You are so full of shit. You know just as well as I do that you were fucking gagging for it.”
“Gagging for it to be over, more like,” Jade snarled.
Franny leaned down until her mouth was at the shell of Jade’s ear. “All it would have taken was my fingers under those pants and you would probably still be in my bed right now.”
Jade turned her head with a sharp intake of breath. Whatever she was gearing up to say was interrupted by the sharp crack of two hands slapping together. Landry was calling them back to the table. Jade brushed past her without a word.
Franny sniffed, her attitude on ten as she shoved herself back in her seat to continue the game.
The rest of the night passed in a distracted haze. Franny felt like heat was rolling off both her and Jade, the anger making them sloppy. Bad bets, even worse calls. Franny had started with a decent hand but had still managed to lose every cent she’d put in the pot. In the end, it was Coach Byrd, the head of Greenbelt track and field, who had taken the pot.
But she couldn’t find it in herself to care. By the time the night was over, all she wanted to do was go home and fall into a bottle of bourbon. The group was exchanging jokes and banter, all casual jabs. Then Landry and Byrd came back from the cashbox with the latter’s winnings, and $400 was all it took for the man to turn into an asshole.
“We let you ladies win once,” Byrd said, laughter coloring his tone, “but the boys are back now, baby.”
She wasn’t sure why, but Franny spared a glance at Jade, who looked at her. Slowly, their faces transformed. This time, the heated expressions weren’t directed at each other.
“I wonder what it says about the boys that it took both of us,” Jade said, directing her finger between herself and Franny, “being extremely distracted for one of you to win with those trash-ass hands.”
A few snickers sounded around the table. Behind Byrd, Coach Landry guffawed.
“We’ve been doing this for weeks, Byrd.” Franny laughed condescendingly. “And this is the closest you’ve gotten to winning since Dunn and I sat our asses down at this table.”
Jeremy Bell’s answering laugh was gleeful. “We played every week for six months straight last year, and he didn’t win once.”
“Well, look at that,” Jade said as she leaned back in her chair, confident and biting. “It looks like the boys would be better off shutting the hell up.”
“I agree,” Franny backed her up.
Jade looked over at her, tilting the bill of her cap up just a little bit to send her a wink and a small, appreciative smile.
Franny closed her eyes, taking a screenshot in her mind. It was a small gesture, one that probably wouldn’t mean a thing the next time they saw each other. But it meant something to Franny now. Losses be damned.