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“You wouldn’t enjoy yourself,” Frannie Harper told her daughter.
“Yes, I would. Auntie Lois is so much fun.”
Lois was fun, Frannie thought as memories of their last night out together filtered through her mind. Latin music, salsa dancing, Corona beer, handsome men.
“Sorry, love, this is a night for grown-ups only.”
And there weren’t many of those in her life, Frannie acknowledged as she put aside the mascara and went to the closet. Being a single parent, she’d had little time for anything except work and taking care of her family. Nor did she have the money for going out with the girls—something she was reminded of when she opened her closet door.
She grimaced as she pushed aside hangers holding garments that should have been relegated to the rag bag years ago, but still constituted her wardrobe. She didn’t have a single thing that could be classified as trendy. Practical yes, trendy no. She knew the kind of places her sister frequented, and they were filled with people wearing the latest styles.
She sighed, knowing she really had only one choice: Old Faithful. It was a black sheath with a touch of glitter, a dress she figured she must have worn at least a hundred times. “Timeless” was how the clerk who’d sold it to her had described it. “Boring” was how Frannie had come to look at it. She dragged it from the hanger and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror.
“One hundred and one,” she mumbled to herself as she tugged the dress over her head.
“One hundred and one what, Mommy?” Emma asked.
“Nothing, sweetie. I was wondering if I’ve worn this dress a hundred times yet,” she said as she straightened the hemline.
“I’d wear it a million times if it were mine. It’s so pretty,” Emma said with a childlike sincerity.
Frannie sighed. “It’s old.”
“You said there’s nothing wrong with old,” Emma reminded her.
Frannie smiled.So my words come back to haunt me. “You’re right. Old is comfortable.”
When Frannie spritzed her neck with a cologne Lois had given her for her birthday, Emma said, “You never wear perfume. Are you going looking for men?”
She put her hands on her hips and clicked her tongue. “You know better than to even ask that question. I have all the men in my life that I need.”
Emma slipped her feet into Frannie’s high-heel sandals and walked over to the mirror where she pirouetted on wobbly legs. “I’m never getting married.”
As much as Frannie was tempted to say, “Smart girl,” she simply said, “Never is a long time.”
“I know, but I hate boys. They’re stupid. That’s why I’m never getting married,” Emma insisted. “I’m glad you don’t have a boyfriend. They’re too messy.”
Curious, Frannie asked, “Messy how?”
“Ever since Ashley Wilcott’s mom got a boyfriend, their life’s been messed up. They don’t get to dog-sit for the humane society anymore, Ashley can’t eat her dinner on a TV tray and if she leaves even one little sip of milk in her glass he tells her she’s wasting food and makes her do extra chores. Ashley says he’s always at her house butting into their business, too.”
Frannie felt a wave of sympathy for Ashley’s mother. She knew firsthand how difficult it was for a single mom to have any kind of personal life. When Lois had finally convinced Frannie she should start dating again, it hadn’t taken long for her to realize that whether or not the kids were with her physically, they were always with her emotionally. And the few men she had brought home had been put through an inquisition no human should have to endure. Frannie had decided a long time ago that life was complicated enough without adding romance to the picture.
Just then the doorbell rang, and Emma kicked off the shoes and exclaimed in delight, “Auntie Lois is here!”
“Tell her I’m not quite ready, but I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
As Frannie ran a brush through her blond hair, she could hear the commotion her sister’s presence generated. It had always been that way. Her kids hovered around their aunt like bees around a flower.
By the time Frannie went into the living room, however, the bees and the flower were nowhere in sight. She poked her head inside the boys’ room and, as she’d expected, saw her children gathered around Lois. She held a bright yellow piece of paper in her hands that Alex snatched away when he noticed his mother.
Normally Frannie would have asked what it was they’d been looking at, but her sister’s appearance had her mouth agape. Lois’s short hair, which normally fell in soft blond layers, was the color of a red pepper, sticking straight out from her head like porcupine quills. She had on black leather pants, a matching leather bandeau top that revealed more of her midsection than it covered and platform shoes that added three inches to her already tall figure. More than trendy, Frannie thought.
“Like my new look?” she asked Frannie with a crooked grin.
“If you open your mouth and I see metal, I’m not going anywhere with you,” Frannie warned.
Lois grinned, then stuck out her tongue. There were no rings of any sort piercing it. “You know I hate pain. The hair’s cool, isn’t it?” she asked, then stuck out her hands. “Look. My nails are the exact same color as my hair.”
“They are!” Emma exclaimed. “Cool!” She examined her aunt’s long, slender fingers carefully.
“Is it permanent?” Frannie asked, nodding toward her sister’s red head.
“Heavens, no. It washes out. I have to be in court tomorrow morning.”
“Is it a murder case?” Alex asked, his eyes widening.
“No, just someone who needs help,” Lois answered.
“I’m going to be a lawyer and help people when I grow up, too,” Emma said, gazing at her aunt with adoration.
“Me, too,” said three-year-old Luke, who often repeated everything his older sister said.
Lois ruffled her nephew’s hair affectionately. “I thought you were going to be a cowboy.”
“I think he’s going to be a demolition man. He destroys everything,” Alex said dryly.
“He’s not that bad,” Emma chastised her twin.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the baby-sitter.
After going over a list of instructions with the teenager, Frannie gave each of her kids a kiss and hug, then headed out the front door with her sister.
“Is that for us?” Frannie asked when she saw a taxi at the curb.
“Yes. I figured you wouldn’t want to take your car, and you know how much I hate driving downtown. Besides, someone wanted to do me a favor,” she said as she ushered her sister toward the cab.
“And this is the favor? A chauffeur?” she asked, as a thickset man hopped out of the taxi to get the door for them.
“Yes. This is Lenny.” She tossed a smile at the man who fussed over them as if they were celebrities.
Lenny, Frannie discovered, was the brother of a woman Lois had counseled through a domestic crisis. Relieved that the man who’d made life so miserable for his sister had been put behind bars, Lenny had insisted on showing his appreciation by giving Lois free taxi service on his night off.
“It will be nice not to have to worry about traffic and parking,” Frannie said as she settled into the back seat.
“Yes, it will,” Lois agreed. As soon as the taxi had pulled away from the curb, she said, “You didn’t tell me that Alex is trying to find Dennis.”
Frannie sighed. “You know how he feels about money. He thinks we don’t have enough and that getting Dennis’s child support payments would make our lives much easier.”
“It would,” Lois said candidly. “That’s why you were looking for him, too. Remember?”
She shook her head. “Please, don’t remind me.”
“Frannie, he should pay. He’s their father.”
“At one time I felt that way, but not now. I don’t want his money and I certainly don’t want him back in our lives.” She hated the bitterness that always managed to creep into her voice at the mention of her ex.
“Well, Alex does, and he’s printed up a couple of hundred posters with Dennis’s picture on them. He’s going to put them all over town.”
A knot formed in Frannie’s stomach.
When she was silent, Lois asked, “You do know about the posters, don’t you?”
“I knew he was thinking about doing them. We talked about it a couple of weeks ago, but I thought I’d convinced him it wouldn’t accomplish anything.” Unsure if she needed to persuade her sister, she added, “It won’t, you know.”
To her relief, Lois said, “I didn’t say it would. If he hasn’t been found by now, I doubt anyone’s going to locate him. We know Dennis Harper’s not in the Twin Cities and chances of him being anywhere in the Midwest are next to none.”
“Which means it’s just a waste of time,” Frannie concluded.
“Not to Alex it isn’t.” She shot her sister a sideways glance. “That’s what’s really bugging you, isn’t it? The fact that Alex still thinks about his father.”
“Of course it bothers me,” Frannie admitted, knowing there was no point in denying it. “My kids have spent more time with their dentist than they have with their own father. Dennis was never a dad to them, just a man who drifted in and out of their lives when it was convenient for him. He doesn’t deserve to have any of their thoughts and he certainly isn’t worthy of a son like Alex. Believe me, if I had it in my power to make Alex forget Dennis ever existed, I would do it in a minute.”
“But he did exist. And it’s something Alex needs to deal with in his own way.”
“Why?” she cried out in frustration, although she already knew the answer. So did her sister, who chose not to say anything.
After a few moments of silence, Frannie said, “I hate knowing Alex even thinks about the man.”
“It’s normal, Frannie,” Lois said, putting a hand on her sister’s arm.
She chewed on her upper lip as she nodded. “It just seems as if every time I think I’ve managed to let go of my anger, I realize I’ll probably always be angry at Dennis. Not because of what he did to me, but because of what he continues to do to my kids.”
“Your kids are going to be just fine,” Lois insisted. “They’re bright, well-adjusted, and happy—and that’s because of you, not Dennis. So put him out of your mind. He’s not worthy of your thoughts—not even the nasty ones,” she said, grinning.
Frannie didn’t return the smile, prompting Lois to ask, “Hey, you’re not going to let this spoil our evening, are you?”
She shook her head, although the enthusiasm she’d felt earlier had waned. “I do wish Alex had shown me the poster himself.”
“I think he wanted to test the waters with me first,” Lois remarked. “And I’m glad he did. That poster has your phone number on it.”
Frannie groaned. “Tell me that doesn’t mean I’m going to have creeps calling my house in the middle of the night.”
“You won’t,” Lois stated confidently. “I suggested Alex use one of my office numbers, instead. I told him it was much safer to do that, and he said he’d have Josh redo the posters.”
“Thank you. That means that if by some strange twist of fate someone does call with information, you’ll be the first to know and you can tell me.”
“He’s not going to hear anything.”
Frannie hoped her sister was right. It had been a long, painful struggle, but she’d put her life back together after Dennis had done his best to ruin it. She’d made a good life for her children, and she wasn’t about to let him disrupt it again.
For the rest of the taxi ride, Lois talked about the place where they were meeting several of their friends. It was a new club that had become popular among singles. Frannie listened and made appropriate responses, but her thoughts weren’t on the evening ahead. She stared out the window at the passing scenery, watching trees and houses and storefronts disappear in a blur and thinking how her life with Dennis had been like a car ride.
They’d started a journey together and reached a destination, but everything in between had been of little consequence. All the places they’d been, the things they’d seen were gone, just like the passing scenery. There was nothing memorable about that journey—except for the children—and that was the part of the ride Dennis wanted to forget.
“This is it.” Lois’s announcement interrupted her musings. The taxi stopped in front of an old brick building in the warehouse district. The only indication there was a club inside was the line of people waiting to gain admission. “Come on. We need to find Shannon and Misti.”
Frannie wasn’t sure how they’d find the other two women in the crowd, but she was glad when they did; being with her women friends was exactly what she needed to push all thoughts of Dennis Harper out of her mind. They moved from club to club, each one a little bit noisier than the previous one, all of them perfect backdrops for the laughter they shared. It felt good to have fun, and when it was time to go home, not even fatigue could stop Frannie from wishing the night wasn’t over.
Their final stop was a twenty-four hour deli where they ate chocolate desserts and rehashed the encounters they’d had that evening. Frannie couldn’t remember when she’d laughed so much, and made a promise that she wasn’t going to let so much time pass before she went out with them again.
She and Lois were both grateful they had Lenny to drive them home. After saying good-night to her sister, Frannie dragged her feet up the walk to the front door. She paid the baby-sitter, then stood on the front porch until the teen was safely in the house next door.
Then she went inside the place that had been home for the past five years. A quick peek into Emma’s room assured her the little girl was asleep. Next she went to the boys’ room and poked her head in to make sure everything was all right. She was about to leave when she remembered the posters. Unable to resist, she tiptoed over to the desk and opened the top drawer.
A small night-light in the shape of a baseball was just strong enough for her to see the stack of flyers. In the near darkness, Dennis’s face stared up at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t open them again until she’d pushed the drawer shut. Angry for letting her curiosity get the better of her, she quietly left the room.
Later, as she lay in bed, all thoughts of her night out with the girls had vanished. There was only one thing on her mind: Alex’s deadbeat father.
“MOM, LUKE’S BEEN MESSING with my baseball cards again,” Alex cried out in frustration as he stormed into the kitchen, his faux-leather album spread wide so she could see the empty pockets.
“No, I didn’t,” the three-year-old denied.
“Yes, you did,” Alex said, then turned back to his mother.
“I told you to keep them out of his reach,” Frannie said absently, her attention on the negatives she held up to the light.
“They were out of reach,” Alex said in exasperation. “I had them on top of the dresser, but he’s like a monkey, climbing all over the place. You either need to put him in a cage or give me my own room.”
She clicked her tongue in reprobation. “He’s not a monkey, he’s your brother—he doesn’t belong in a cage. And you know you can’t have your own room.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Watch all my stuff get ruined?”
“They’re only dumb old trading cards,” Emma said, standing at the counter buttering her toast.
He shot her a look of disdain. “Go ahead and call them dumb. They’re gonna be worth a lot of money someday.”
Emma grunted in disbelief.
“They are! Trading cards are big business. I heard a guy got a thousand dollars for a Cal Ripken.”
Frannie raised one eyebrow. “Do you have a Cal Ripken?”
“No, but some of my cards will be worth something someday if they’re not all wrecked. Mom, you’ve got to do something. He’s always into everything…my homework, my cards…everything. Can’t I please have my own room?”
“That would mean putting Luke in with Emma,” Frannie said, telling him with her tone what a bad idea that was.
“He can’t. He’s not a girl,” Emma said.
