Chapter 14
Frankie
“Let’s do something fun to take your mind off things,” Cash said. “Want to go down to the pub for a mug of ale and a spot of ice cream?”
It took him one second to take advantage of my mistake. The fuck.
“What the hell, dude? I thought we were all friends.”
Cash only raised his eyebrows at me.
“I’m Jillian’s friend. I never liked you.”
What the hell? Only tolerating me for Jillian? That was a new concept for me.
Cash and I had a very good professional relationship, and I would have even considered him a friend. After all, wasn’t everyone in Ramshackle Bay my friend? We were one big happy family in this town.
So why was Cash instantly all over my wife?
Surely, Jillian wouldn’t—
“Sure,” she said. “That sounds great.”
And Jillian gathered her long, silky brown hair into a ponytail and took his arm as they walked off down Main Street, Earnest and Augustus trailing behind.
“Your stuff is on the porch,” was all she said to me.
“Jillian, please,” I began, but she was gone before I could apologize again.
“You’re trespassing on my lawn,” Mrs. Greenberg rapped out to Christabelle, still standing there looking slack-jawed after my parents. “Better go before I call the Sheriff.”
“Shut up, you old bat!” Christabelle said, to my horror.
But Mrs. Greenberg could absolutely fend for herself.
“I’d rather be an old bat than a trashy little hussy,” she cackled. “Girl, that crab costume pulled half your extensions out.”
“It did what?” Christabelle shrieked.
“Your hair is in shambles,” Mrs. Greenberg repeated. “Now git.”
Christabelle scampered off down the street, clutching desperately at the extensions as they stuck out every which way, but I knew that wasn’t the end of her.
How was I going to get Christabelle out of town so I could make sure Jilian knew I didn’t give a fuck about her?
“So what’s it gonna be?” Mrs. Greenberg asked, poking me with her stick. “Are you my new tenant slash hired help?”
“All right,” I said unenthusiastically.
After all, I would be right next door to Jillian, and that was the main concern. It would give me an opportunity to further plead my case.
The full horror of my situation dawned on me as I climbed the steps of our cozy little blue house to move my things.
Jillian and I weren’t together anymore. It didn’t seem real.
The horror made me stupid, my movements slow, like my feet were stuck in quicksand. I looked helplessly around at the porch.
I didn’t want to move out. I couldn’t even contemplate a life without her. Everything was Franklin and Jillian, Frankie + Jills. We did everything together.
My eyes filled with tears as I stretched my hand into the entry way, my fingers stroking the soft worn sleeve of Jillian’s favorite old gray knitted sweater.
It was beginning to dawn on me how deeply I’d fucked up.
“THIEF!” Athena squawked loudly from her perch.
“I wasn’t going to take it,” I said defensively, even though I was arguing with a parrot. “I just wanted to smell it.”
“THIEF!” Athena squawked again, and now I was losing an argument to a parrot.
Well, she had chosen her side, not like that was ever in doubt.
She only squawking smugly at me as I hauled all my things to Mrs. Greenberg’s porch.
“BYE,” Athena squawked smugly, and nipped my ear as I left.
“I’ll need the first month’s rent up front,” Mrs. Greenberg said as I hauled both suitcases inside. Her kitchen was very fussy and frilly, every surface covered with disapproving cats.
Was every animal in town going to be pissed at me?
“I don’t have that,” I said.
I was petrified that Jillian would believe the awful accusations Christabelle had hurled at her, so I absolutely refused to take anything from our joint account.
“Well, my boy, you’ll have to work out the first month’s rent,” she said. “My car needs a good wash.”
“All right,” I agreed, taking the suitcases into the small, narrow guest bedroom. It was decorated with a great many Treasured Memories figurines from a local shop—cats and dogs and squirrels and so forth all with these huge, exaggerated melting eyes.
I shuddered quickly at all their creepy massive eyes looking at me, then went back outside.
“Remember how those decorative pillows on the bed go,” she warned. “If you put them back incorrectly, you’ll find yourself right out on the porch without a lick of sympathy from me.”
I gritted my teeth and said nothing.
This whole thing was a complete nightmare.
Everyone in this town had always loved me. Suddenly it was like they’d turned against me.
Why wasn’t my brain working right? I wanted to get down to the pub as soon as I could and talk to Jillian.
So I began to wash the old pink Cadillac, as quickly as I could, while Mrs. Greenberg sat on the porch and glaring fearsomely at me.
“You’re enjoying torturing me,” I groaned after the twenty-third time she pointed out I had missed a spot.
“So what?” she snapped. “Also, I think you’re a dog for what you did to Jillian. You some kind of moron or something? You allergic to happiness? You like chasing after trampy hoes?”
“I love Jillian,” I said, scrubbing harder, on my knees. “I made a mistake.”
Mrs. Greenberg snorted again. “A woman like Jillian has options,” she said. “You may be a pretty face but there are other men in this world.”
No! Jillian loved me. But her words made me nervous all the same.
My back ached by the time I cleaned the car to her satisfaction and was able to rush down the street to the pub.
But from the moment I touched the brass doorknob, everything changed.
Wooster Tuppence (always called Tuppy) was the owner of the bar and usually greeted me with a hearty, “Hello, Mr. Mayor.”
After all, working together we’d led this small town to stunning economics success.
But tonight, he only glanced briefly over at me and continued to wipe down the clean mugs.
“Sorry, pub’s full.”
I flushed in confusion.
“It is not,” I hissed.
My heart contracted as I saw Jillian sitting at our usual table next to Cash.
“Look, there’s an open table right over there. And plenty of open seats at the bar.”
“Bugger off, bloke!” Tuppy said, shaking his dish towel at me. “We don’t need your kind here!”
Usually I was quite an even-tempered man, but this seriously pissed me off.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” I hissed. “Bugger off? Bloke? You’re such a fucking poser, man. You’re literally from Texas.”
There were gasps all along the bar as if I’d punched Tuppy in the face.
“Low blow,” some tourist I didn’t recognize said, and Jillian flicked her eyes over to see what was going on.
I could not bear that contemptuous, indifferent look in her eyes. How could a few days, a few mistakes, possibly bring that change?
I started toward her, passing by Bonnie and Ronnie, the owners of the Treasured Memories knickknack shop. They were a married couple in their 50s, Ronnie tall and Black with elegant braids, and Bonnie short and round and pale with a halo of flyaway yellow hair like a dandelion.
“Good evening, ladies,” I said automatically.
This was usually good for at least a smile in response and sometimes even some free Tater tots.
But not tonight. They both glared over their knitting at me.
“Not you, at your big age, thinking the grass is greener,” Bonnie said disapprovingly.
“I—“ I began awkwardly.
“You’re dead to us,” Bonnie said sharply, and Ronnie nodded her agreement.
That was unexpectedly gutting, but I guess since they were in the same knitting group as Jillian that maybe they’d take her side.
But not everyone. . .I mean surely. . . I needed someone on my side to help convince Jilly. . . but as I passed by all the tables on the way to my wife it was the same thing.
Mari, owner of the Pemberley B&B, even drew up her period-accurate skirts as I passed, and sniffed her nose at me.
“I see now why you were so anxious to get a room at the B&B. Jillian kicked you out. How could you have been such an idiot?”
“Riff-raff,” her boyfriend Dale, who ran the fish ‘n’ chips food truck, said shortly.
“I literally just expedited your business license and this is the thanks I get,” I hissed angrily at him, but I didn’t have time to stop and convince them all how sorry I was. I had to get to Jillian.
But every table I passed it was the same treatment. People who I had thought good friends sniffed and turned their heads away. I guess news traveled fast.
When I got to Jillian’s table, I noticed with a drop in my stomach that she wasn’t there.
“Can I help you?” Cash asked, sprawling across MY usual seat, looking like some Hollywood cowboy with his stubbled cheeks and tight jeans.
I smoothed my rather filthy pants.
“Just looking for my woman,” I said.
“I believe I saw her go in that direction,” Cash pointed out. “She was crying about her hair and needing to find a hairdresser.”
“No, not—Christabelle!” I cried. “That’s—she’s not my woman! I meant my wife!”
I was aware that sounded stupid, but just then I saw my Office Manager, Jeremy Standing Bear, and I made a beeline toward him. If there was anyone in town I could trust to help me win Jillian back, it was him. Surely he wouldn’t turn his back on me.
But not only did he turn his back, but he was fleeing out the door with a full mug of ale and half a shepherd’s pie.
“What are you doing?” I hollered at him. “What is wrong with you?”
“Shhh,” Jeremy hissed back, his dark braid flicking back and forth as he looked anxiously around. “I can’t be seen with you.”
“You can’t—what?”
“Because of what you did.”
“It was one fuck-up!” I howled. “I’m never doing it again! And I’m going to make sure Jillian knows that. I’m going to make it up to her!”
“A fuck-up would be you putting meat before beans on your taco. That’s a mistake. You sleeping around on Jillian is a disaster of epic proportions, bro.”
“What do you mean? I’m trying to get her to see how sorry I am. I want to make it right,” I protested. “What can I do? You’ve got to help me.”
But he shook his head.
“Come on, man, we’ve been friends for years. I love you like a brother. You were the best man in my wedding.”
“If you love me, don’t acknowledge me in public,” Jeremy said. “I was Jillian’s friend first.”
Then he trotted off down Main Street, hiding behind parked cars like he was on some spy mission.
Well, fuck. My hope was starting to shrivel as I walked back inside.
Finally, Jillian was back. But my stomach sunk as I realized she was sitting way too close to Cash, with his big arm around her shoulders.
I had to put a stop to this immediately. It was all spiraling out of control.
“Jillian, please, can I talk to you?” I begged as I drew even with their table.
“No,” she replied. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
“Boo,” I heard Ronnie say from behind me.
“Boo,” Bonnie agreed, always ready to support Ronnie.
Then they all joined in. “Booooooo. BOOOOOO. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”
Soon the entire pub was a loud chorus of boos, all directed at me. In my entire life, I wasn’t sure a single person had ever disliked me, let alone an entire pub full of them, and I felt dizzy, the room spinning around me.
Suddenly something splotchy and red hit the back of my T-shirt and I twisted around.
It was a tomato.
“Please, Jills?” I begged as bright lights flashed in my eyes.
This was a nightmare.
Could it get any worse?