Ch-Ch-Changes
FRANKIE
It’s Monday afternoon, and I’m watching the curtains in my mom’s room gently billow in the breeze.
For a long time after she died I kept it sealed off like a crime scene, and it was only a couple of years ago that I actually got the courage to open it up again.
But no matter how many times I come in here, the room seems wrong.
Nothing like the way I remember, despite everything still being here.
Her ventilation machine that would whir and hum like a cloud of cicadas, old dresses and shirts with big slits down the back so it was easier to get her ready in the morning, and her buzzer that she’d press to call me when she could no longer speak.
Every object has a memory attached.
“Not bad, Frankie,” I sigh, placing the last box of things in the closet. “Not bad at all.”
I got a brand new mattress, with new bedding in forest green, Violet’s favorite color, and I even dragged in a bookshelf from my study. I filled it with some of my old favorites that were still stashed in the attic: Goosebumps, Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, and even a couple of comics.
She might like them, she might not, but I’m trying my best to make her feel welcome.
“Helloooo!” A chipper voice rings out from downstairs. “We’re here!”
I nod to myself, taking one last look around the room before I head down to greet them.
“Hi!” Daphne chirps, slipping off her shoes. “Hope you don’t mind us letting ourselves in.”
“Not at all. It’s your house too.”
“You got room for all this?” Huxley asks, lugging a few heavy-looking suitcases onto the porch. “They brought a lot of shit. And there’s more in the truck.”
Daphne and Violet roll their eyes in unison, and I stifle a laugh.
“I’m sure we can find a spot for it all.” I point to the big glittery purple suitcase. “Is that one Violet’s? I can take it up to her room.”
“Actually, that’s mine.”
Daphne smirks, wrapping me up in a big hug.
“Thanks for doing this, Frankie.”
“Hey, no problem.” I laugh awkwardly, giving her a quick squeeze back. “I got V’s room all ready, and I cleaned out half my closet for you.”
“That sounds perfect.”
I must admit, the idea of waking up next to her gives me butterflies, but I have to push those thoughts away.
We’re not together. This is just an agreement between friends.
Who happen to be fucking.
And get along really, really well.
No. Nope. Can’t think like that. Once she gets the business with the bar handled, she’ll go back to New York, and I’ll stay here. Just like last time. And that’s fine, because this time we’ll get to stay friends. Hell, a couple weeks ago it would have been more than I could have asked for.
Because I don’t fit into that part of her life.
I know that.
“Can I see my room?”
Violet’s standing in front of us, just staring. God, how long have I been spacing out.
“You know what? I think that’s a great idea. There’s a couple of surprises up there for you too, let’s see if you can find them.”
Huxley and I grab a couple of suitcases each and the four of us head up the stairs.
“Frankie, it’s gorgeous!” Daphne gasps as we step inside.
I don’t know why I’m still so nervous. They’re not even staying here that long, but I want them to feel welcome nonetheless.
“Thanks. It had been a while since I’d been in here, so I really had to go hard getting it in shape, but I think it turned out pretty good.”
She paces around, looking up and down the walls before landing on one of the paintings: a beautiful landscape of The Bay with the sun rising behind the mountains in the distance.
“Oh my god, this is your mom’s, isn’t it? I recognize her style.”
“Sure is.”
It’s one of my favorites, and one of the last ones she painted before she had to stop.
“V, remember that mural we drove past on our first day? Frankie’s mom painted that.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
It doesn’t take a genius to tell Violet is more interested in the bookshelf I dragged in, already brushing her fingers along the spines, glancing over her shoulder at me like she’s asking for permission.
“I don’t know if you’ve read any of those, but I dug them out of storage just in case. Figured I’d pass along some of my favorites to the next generation.”
She grabs a Goosebumps book, flipping through it.
“The Haunted Mask. I haven’t read this one!”
“There’s a TV show too. We can watch it later, if you want—”
“Hey, Frankie?” Huxley asks, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Can I talk to you outside?”
He flicks his head toward the hallway and I catch Daphne’s raised brow.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing important,” Hux replies. “Just uh… dude talk.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“I promise, I won’t keep your tour guide for very long.”
Daphne shrugs, turning back to Violet as I follow Huxley out into the hall, shutting the bedroom door behind me.
“Hey man, sorry I didn’t want this to be a big thing, I just wanna thank you for taking Daph and V in. You didn’t have to do that.”
He seems sincere, but more than a little rattled.
“Well, it’s better than them staying in a hotel. The privacy alone’s gotta be worth it, especially for Violet.”
“It’s not just that. Daphne was getting really anxious about this whole thing, especially how complicated it was getting, but she was so relieved when you offered to let her stay. Said she had loads of memories of this place. That it felt like home.”
Huxley clears his throat, running a hand through his long dark hair for a few moments before seeming to come to a conclusion of some kind.
“Look, I didn’t just ask you out here to thank you, so I’m gonna cut right to the chase: I’m leaving town tonight. It’s for a month or so, maybe a bit longer; I’ve got a couple of record launches to attend to, and some other stuff I gotta take care of. Nothing serious, but… I’m worried.”
“About?”
He takes out his phone and hands it to me. On the screen is a video of Cole, furiously red-faced, and glassy-eyed. I hate to say it, but I know the look well. It’s the same one I’d catch in the mirror when I was at the end of my rope, strung out on Oxy.
Huxley hands me an AirPod.
“Here.”
I jam it in my ear and start the video.
“Daphne,” Cole scoffs. “Daphne, Daphne, Daphne. I’ll tell you something about that dumb bitch. She uses people. Just watch, she’ll make a big fuckin’ record out of this new relationship shit, shoot to the top of the charts, and step all over anyone she needs on the way.”
“It just goes on like that,” Huxley mutters, glancing over his shoulder to make double-sure the door’s shut. “He posted 50 stories, going on this insane rant about her, about you… and about your work. He was reading some of it out loud, calling you a perverted freak and—”
I snort.
“Same old shit as far as I’m concerned. I just hope it doesn’t hurt Daphney’s image.”
Some people read my work and think I need serious counseling, that I’m turning other people down a dangerous, immoral path. Well, joke’s on them. I’m already in therapy, and I paid for it all by writing about whips, handcuffs, and a whole lotta rope.
Huxley smiles, taking back his phone.
“Don’t worry, most of her fans just seem to be happy she’s with a ‘regular dude’ this time.
Cole’s the one who’s gone off the deep end, really lost it after he got fired from that Night Shift show.
It seems like his team is constantly scrambling to do damage control, and there’s even some whispers that his agency is gonna cut him loose because he won’t stop partying.
The real problem is his psychotic fanbase is as bad as he is.
They keep feeding him rumors from all over the net, trying to goad him into picking fights. ”
“What kind of rumors?”
When I look at Cole, I see myself at rock bottom. Every addict finds their way there at one time or another. What matters is how you handle it.
Because the next phase usually goes one of two ways: prison, or death.
“The great thing about the internet is that people can say anything, and if they say it with enough confidence, it pops off. It all feeds into his delusion that Daph was the sole problem in their relationship, not his months of cheating, gambling, drinking, and spending all her money on camgirls.”
“Man, I wish people would get a fuckin’ hobby,” I grumble.
“For some of them, it may as well be a full time job.” He claps me on the back. “But don’t worry, I’m gonna keep an eye on it. I just wanted you to be aware, so you’re not caught off guard if something happens while I’m gone.”
I like Huxley a lot. It takes a real man to step up to the plate the way he has. Most guys would run, or maybe string their families along for years before dumping them for their 20-something dental assistant.
Still not over that one.
“Frankie, I found your cat!”
I turn in time to see the door burst open, and Violet cradling a rather reluctant Bugsy in her arms. She’s glaring at me, her tail flicking back and forth, probably wondering why her father would allow her to endure this.
She stole my dress socks the other day, and my tie, so I’m content to leave her in the arms of a chaotic preteen.
“I think she likes me!” Violet chirps.
Huxley gives me a little nudge.
“Welcome to fatherhood, pal, and good luck.”
It’s 9:45pm, the house is quiet, and a soft breeze blows through the window as I’m basking in the glow of the television.
Daphne paid for every single episode of Goosebumps available on the smart TV, and Violet fell asleep after four of them, with Bugsy purring in her lap like an engine the whole time.
“You know, she’s not normally so cuddly,” I murmur. “When my buddy Logan comes over, she likes to sit right behind him on the couch and punch him in the back of the head. Like, for hours. I think it’s an Olympic sport for her.”
“He’s married to Abi, right?” Daphne replies. “They were the Lydia and Beetlejuice in that picture?”
“Yeah. That’s them.”
Both of them would be over the moon to know that’s how someone remembered them. I’ll have to let them know.
“They’re a really cute couple. Any kids?”
“Not yet, they only got together about 2 years back. They’re trying, though.”
“Well, trying’s the fun part,” Daphne chuckles, before quickly clearing her throat. “Or so I’ve heard. V was more of a… very pleasant surprise.”
“How long were you and Huxley together?” I ask. “Before Violet.”
“Believe it or not… one night.” She bites her lip.
“We tried to stick it out while I was pregnant, but we just didn’t work as a couple, so we had to pivot.
The goal was to put her first, no matter what, and honestly I think that’s what saved our friendship.
He does his thing, I do mine, and we meet in the middle when it comes to parenting. ”
Daphne’s changed a lot from the carefree girl I knew as a kid. That girl wouldn’t have given motherhood a single thought, especially not that young.
“What about you?” She asks. “You ever thought of having kids?”
I take a deep breath.
“I did once. But, uh… When we found out ALS runs in mom’s side of the family— I mean, it’s rare, but it feels like this monster, you know? Always lurking just around the corner. After what I went through, after what my mom—”
I can hear my voice start to break, and I try to swallow the shards of grief cutting their way out of my throat.
“I always felt like I didn’t do enough. That none of us tried enough. There were studies we could have signed her up for, medical trials… I know it sounds selfish, but it took everything from me.”
Daphne winds me up in her arms, her smoky perfume enveloping me like a sheet of silk.
“Not everything. I’m still here.”
I want to thank her, to tell her how much that means to me, but by now it’s impossible to look her in the eye without feeling like I’m falling right through the floor.
“I still get paranoid whenever a limb goes numb, you know? Or if I feel a weird little twinge, or a twitch in my muscles. I got tested, again and again, and there’s no indication I have it, no extra risk or anything, but…”
“You went through hell, Frankie, and I’m just… so sorry I wasn’t there.”
I don’t want pity, and I don’t want to be seen as a victim.
I chose to take care of my mom. I chose to come home every day after school, and make sure I spent time with her, because it felt like grains of sand were slipping through an hourglass so fucking fast, and the only thing I could do to slow it down was just… be there.
I take Daphne’s hand carefully in mine, squeezing it gently.
“That was then, and this is now. You don’t have to apologize for living your life.” I gesture to Violet, desperate to push these feelings all the way back down. “But speaking of now, we should probably put her to bed, huh?”
“Alright,” Daphne murmurs. “I’ll just wake her up—”
“Nah, don’t bother. I can carry her.”
“Are you sure?”
I grin.
“Daph, have you seen these guns? I work out. You just take the cat, and I’ll take the kid.”
She snorts, gently scooping a hissing Bugsy into her arms.
“Oh, you’re all talk,” she murmurs, kissing the cat’s forehead.
I grunt as I pick Violet up, who turns out to be a bit heavier than I expected.
“You doin’ okay?” Daphne asks, watching with amusement as she follows behind me up the stairs.
“Just fine… but I think your kid might be a mutant. Bones made of metal or something.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief when we make it to her room, tucking Violet carefully into bed before checking to see how Bugsy feels about her new roommate. Luckily she’s all for it, plopping down and curling up right next to the sleeping girl.
Daphne and I exchange an air-five before the two of us slink out of the room.
“Not bad for my first night of parenting, huh?”
Her eyes sparkle as she reaches up to ruffle my hair.
“Not bad at all.”