Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Henry
Once Tabitha’s gone, I return Francine’s call.
Why did she call me anyway? I’ve always been the one to call her.
And her timing was pure shit, at that.
“Hello,” I say.
“You were never supposed to find me.”
Her voice slides through the speaker like smoke.
“Well, I did. Why are you calling?”
“Why not? You called me twice. Maybe I felt like returning the favor. Invade your life. See how you like it.”
I glance toward the window. Outside, the rain’s back, dropping slowly on the glass. Tabitha’s on the road. It’s not a long drive to Boulder, but I hope this rain is short-lived.
“Is that really why you called?”
“Why now?” Francine asks. “Why, after all these years, did you decide to find me now?”
“I’ve told you, haven’t I? Just curious.”
“That’s a crock.” She laughs. A rasping, tired sound. “I didn’t tell you this before, but you’ve got your daddy’s voice. You sound just like him on the phone.”
“So you knew who I was when I first called?”
“No, I didn’t. But now that I’ve talked to you, memories have come back to me. Memories of your father.” She chuckles. “We had some good times.”
“I suppose I should be glad about that,” I say. “Otherwise I wouldn’t exist.”
“True enough.”
“How are you?” I ask because I’m not sure what else to say.
“Hanging on, as always. How are you?”
“Same.”
Part of me wants to tell her everything.
That her phone call has me in a bad way with Tabitha, but I can fix that quickly.
More something like I killed a man. I thought that was the worst of it until I almost died myself.
But I met someone who makes me want to live again.
But we can’t be together. At least not now. She has her life. I have mine.
“So I have to know,” she says. “Did you think finding me—hearing my voice—would fix something?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to. You sound like every man who ever wanted to make sense of me. Your situation is a little unique compared to them, but I have a feeling your baseline is similar to theirs.”
I close my eyes. The air feels thick. “Why’d you leave?”
“You know the story. I screwed up. Fucked a guy who turned out to be my worst nightmare. I should have stayed with your daddy. With you. But I didn’t.”
“No. I mean why. You sabotaged your life. Why?”
“Oh, sugar.” Her voice softens. “You really want to do this?”
“Yeah. I guess I want to see if self-sabotage runs in the family.”
A long pause. I can almost hear the ice settling in her glass.
“You were never supposed to find me,” she says again. “I wasn’t good at the kind of love your father needed. Or the kind you deserved. You were better off without me.”
I was. That’s a given.
“So tell me,” she continues. “When was the last time you gave me a thought? I mean really?”
“I—”
“And don’t give me some made-up answer, sugar, like I’ve always wondered about you. I can sift through bullshit like the best of them. I’ve been doing it all my life.”
I sigh. “My life took a turn.”
“For the worse?” she asks.
“Yeah?”
“You breathing?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“You worried about making rent?”
“Of course not.”
“You got food to eat, water to drink?”
“What the—”
“You got family who loves you? Money in the bank? And I know the answer to those two. In fact, I know the answer to all of it. And let me tell you, your life is golden, Henry. Fucking golden.”
She’s not telling me anything I don’t know.
In fact, just hours ago I made a promise to myself and to Tabitha to work through everything. Made plans to see Aunt Mel tomorrow.
Told Tabitha we did have a future, but we’d be separated.
But I didn’t tell her I love her.
I should have done that.
I wanted to.
“You got nothing to say to any of that?” she asks. “You going to tell me there’s something about your perfect life that I don’t get?”
I could.
I could tell her the whole damned story about Ralph Normandy, about the accident, about Tabitha.
But she’d laugh in my face. And not because she’s cruel. Only because she’s right.
“Do you need anything?” I finally ask. “Help with anything?”
“Sugar, don’t you think if I wanted to milk my rich baby daddy I’d have done it before now?”
“He wasn’t rich when you left,” I remind her.
“No, but then he married into the Steel empire. And you were adopted into it. I knew you all had billions to your name. And honestly, I thought about it once or twice, but even a worn-out old showgirl has her pride.”
Another pause. Because I have no clue what to say to her.
It would be a pittance to me to give her enough to live out the rest of her years in luxury. Why doesn’t she just ask? I’d do it in a minute. Not because I owe her anything. But because she gave birth to me. Because I exist, thanks to her.
Francine sighs. “I gotta go, sugar. Pool night. The girls don’t wait for phone calls that never should have been made.”
“Francine. Er, Frankie—”
“Don’t call again.”
“Uh…you called me this time.”
“Fine. I won’t call again.”
“Wait!”
The line clicks.