“Okay,” she agreed easily.
Roxanne never found any appeal in being out on the road. Aside from all the infidelity going on, as soon as she got comfortable in one motel it was time to move on to the next. Even though she found little joy in the lifestyle, she did it because she wanted to be with Frank.
After checking into the latest motel, Frank parked the van in front of their newest room.
Roxanne opened the passenger door and glanced over her shoulder before getting out. Seeing Rich make no attempt to move bothered her. Wherever his thoughts lay, they surely ran deep. Secretly, she hoped he’d wrapped them in guilt. That’d serve him right. The notion of Rich wallowing in his own remorse lightened her mood.
“Hey, Rich…”
Nothing.
“Hey, Richie…?”
Her teasing, playful tone broke into his thoughts. He glanced up and thought about saying something, but changed his mind.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, concern seeping into her voice.
“Nothing that a little time can’t handle.” And a whole lot of women. Wouldn’t you know it? The first time he really wanted a girl, she didn’t want him. He didn’t know which was worse—the thought of never seeing her again, or, never having her for himself.
“I hate to see you like this,” she said with a measure of pity. “I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better.”
“Roxie, I appreciate that.” He tried to smile. “But I think your sister is the only one who can do that.”
“Don’t be too hard on her, okay?” she said, trying to find an excuse for Candy’s actions. “She really does care about you. She’s just afraid.”
“Really? You think so?” Rich didn’t want to hear the voice inside his head warning him that Roxanne might be giving him false hope.
But he knew Roxanne wasn’t vicious or malicious. If she said Candy really cared about him, then she believed it. And that gave Rich hope. False hope, maybe. But nonetheless, hope.
Roxanne continued to work on The Secret every chance she got. She also continued to employ Frank’s help, even if he didn’t necessarily know about it.
In the latest motel room, the sun filtered through the curtains and cast a thin ray of light on Roxanne. She’d been awake for hours, while Frank had been and continued to rest peacefully.
How can you sleep? She studied him. I can’t sleep.
“Frankie…” She shook him lightly. “Frankie, wake up.”
“What! What?” He moaned and covered his face with his hands, as if it made a difference.
“I need to talk to you.” Her voice was fragile.
“What?” His tone was a bit more attentive now, but still, he made no move to uncover his face.
“We need to talk about Ben.”
“Who?” His voice snarled out as he jumped up. Frank didn’t have a clue who Ben was, but he better not be some guy chasing after Roxanne.
“You know…” She huffed out a sigh as if agitated that he’d forgotten. “The rock star.”
“Not them again.” Frank fell back on the bed and covered his eyes with the base of his hands. “I can’t believe you woke me up to ask me about some people that aren’t even real.”
“It’s important. Indulge me just this once, okay?” Her persuasive tone coaxed him into humoring her.
“If I answer your question,” he said in a bargaining way, “can we go back to sleep?”
“You have to tell this girl who you are—before she finds out from someone else.”
“So I just told her.”
“She never wants to see you again.”
Frank sat up and cast a studious look over her, his eyes cold and hard. “So I just committed suicide. Now, can we go back to sleep?”
“Frankie, that’s no good.”
Frank dragged his fingers through his hair. “What’s going on?” He peered at her with a glint of annoyance in his eye. “And don’t tell me anything about hypothetical bullshit.”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” Clearly, he didn’t buy her claim that it was merely for curiosity’s sake. “Start talking, Roxanne.”
“No,” she whispered. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“I can guarantee you—” His voice was full of resolve. “—I won’t be laughing.” Nothing she could say would make him laugh right now. “What’s going on?”
“Promise me you won’t laugh.”
“Scouts honor.” He waved a couple of fingers in the air, hoping that if he humored her it might somehow lead to sleep. “I promise. I will not laugh at you.”
“The reason I’ve been asking you all of these questions is...” her voice resisted and she cleared her throat.
Maybe—just maybe—we’re going to get somewhere now.
“Well…” She still hadn’t found adequate strength to stimulate her words. She huffed, preparing to blurt out her secret. “I’ve been writing this story. A novel.”
Curiosity and disbelief skewed his face. “You’re writing a book?”
“Yeah.”
He scanned her with a discerning look. “Let me see it.”
“What?” she said in a suffocated whisper. “You want to see it?”
“Why haven’t you told me about this before?” Accusation fueled his tone now.
“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.”
“I would never laugh at you. No matter how bad it is.” He waved dismissively. “Now, let me see it.”
“Okay.” Giving in, she slowly made her way to the nightstand and retrieved the loose papers from their hiding place. “This is only a rough draft,” she said, like she was delivering her heart on a platter.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He winked at her, forcing the papers from her hands.
She sat down on the bed and waited nervously while he read her work. The possibility that he could think she had no talent, horrified her.
After reading a few pages, he looked back at her. “Why didn’t you tell me you could write?”
Astonishment warmed her face.
“I’m serious. This—” He acknowledged the papers. “Is what you were born to do.”
“Don’t joke with me about this, Frankie.”
By now, she should know him well enough to know he never paid a false compliment just to win a few points. He simply didn’t care that much about flattering people. On the rare occasion that he did pay a compliment—well, one could trust it was authentic.
Frank and Roxanne went out to buy a typewriter and the necessary materials she’d need to start typing her book. He offered assistance at every opportunity, encouraging her to complete her story.
She found his support motivating. And now, they often discussed Ben and Cherie openly and he tried his damnedest to help her with any scenarios she threw at him.
Frank wasn’t surprised when he found out Roxanne’s birthday fell on Valentine’s Day. It suited her.
On this particular birthday, her twentieth, Frank’s job was to get her down to Rich’s room, but he was finding the task harder than he’d anticipated.
“I don’t want to go down there,” she said. “I just want to spend what little time we have left…alone…before you have to go to the club.”
“Just five minutes. Rich has a present for you.” He enticed her with the implication that he was giving away some carefully guarded secret.
After that, she willingly followed him.
Frank tapped on the door and it opened instantly into darkness.
“Hi, Roxie,” Rich’s voice greeted her. He reached out from the shadows and pulled her inside.
“Does the word electricity mean anything to you?” she spoke softly, straining to see anything inside the room.
Tiny lights flickered on the far side of the room, and it took her a second to realize that candles were feeding the flames. Finally, Roxanne’s eyes adjusted enough to see Candy holding a birthday cake.
“Happy Birthday, Roxie!” everyone chimed in unison.<
br />
Frank switched on the lights and instantly the party came into clear view.
“Happy birthday.” Rich smiled and gave Roxanne a friendly hug followed by a kiss on the cheek. “I just wanted to tell you—” He leaned back enough to gaze into her eyes. “I think you’re probably the best person I know.” He laughed softly. “Aside from me, of course.”
“Hey...” Frank pushed himself between them. “You trying to steal my woman?” His words bubbled over with laughter.
“If I thought you’d let me,” Rich joked.
Glen lay sprawled out on the floor near the bathroom. Obviously wasted. Again. He was singing some muffled song that no one could quite make out.
Frank shook his head at his friend, saddened by the sight but knowing Glen had his reasons. Things weren’t as they seemed, and he knew Glen was trying to forget that. Somewhere along the way Glen had gone too far though, and lost touch with reality.
Frank wasn’t self-righteous by any means. If someone wanted to burn a joint, or do a line…well, he’d be first in line. But he also knew where to draw the line.
He saw nothing wrong with catching a buzz, but he didn’t see any sense in losing touch with reality, either. Frank had to remain in control at all times. That didn’t leave much room for drugs in his world.
He grabbed Roxanne’s hand and tugged her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Quietly, they wandered outside, and it didn’t appear that anyone noticed their departure. If they did, they didn’t try to stop them.
“I got you a present,” he said, as they strolled toward their room.
“You did?”
“Yes. Come and see.” He quickened their pace.
He’d hidden it under the bed, and Roxanne wondered how long it’d been there.
“I looked and looked...” He offered the gift-wrapped package to her. “And someone told me this was the perfect gift for a writer.” Frank smiled, proud of himself.
Eagerly, Roxanne tore off the wrapping. Upon seeing the leather bound thesaurus nestled cozily amid the tissue paper, tears pooled around her eyes.
“Read what I wrote inside,” he encouraged her.
Roxanne opened the book and began reading his inscription…
Dear Roxanne,
I just want you to know how much you mean to me. And if writing is your heart’s desire, then consider me standing beside you all the way. I love you with all my heart!
Forever, Frank
Roxanne struggled with the urge to cry. She swiped at the one teardrop that did manage to escape. “You’ll never know how much this means to me.” Clutching the book to her chest, her tears fell freely.
“Come here.” Frank pulled her into his arms. “Please don’t cry.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She wanted it to last forever, even though she was well aware that time usually proves nothing does.
***
Chapter 8
The weeks turned into months and April brought an end to Garrett-Hollander’s bar tour. Returning home forced Roxanne to come to grips with the fact that she’d nearly run out of money.
She’d have to get a job soon, which meant that when Frank ventured back out on the road again, she’d have to stay behind, leaving Frank to his own devices. The one thing she didn’t want to have to worry about was what Frank might be doing out on the road without her.
But Roxanne refused to worry about that right now. Instead, she tucked that little problem safely away, deep down inside her psyche. For now.
She hoped that was a bridge she’d never get to. Not so soon, anyway. When it did happen, she wasn’t prepared to deal with it. She did the only thing she thought would help. She headed for Sunset Beach.
As the sun slipped behind the horizon, the beach-goers headed home. All but Roxanne. She sat there quietly with her arms draped across her knees. A cool ocean breeze blew in, and she observed the surf, listening for something. Anything. Anything that could let her know everything would be okay. She needed something, or someone, to come along and cleanse her soul. Free her of all her anxieties.
After a while, something from within appeased her.
Just don’t lose control. She couldn’t let all the jumbled up thinking get in the way. Then the confusion set in. She didn’t know if she should run and hide—or run to Frank and beg him not to go.
What am I supposed to do when he’s gone?
“I thought I’d find you here,” Frank’s voice wrapped her in comfort, albeit temporary, but comfort nonetheless.
She tried to smile, but continued to stare straight ahead.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, sitting on the ground beside her.
“Thinking,” she said, still staring into the darkness.
“I guess you know…I have to go back out on the road again.”
“Yes, I do.”
“And we both know that you can’t afford to go with me this time.” He cleared his throat, as if that’d drive out the nerves. “I wish I could afford to take you with me.”
“But you can’t.”
“No. I can’t,” his voice hardened, in a self-condemning way. “And I wish I didn’t have to leave you behind either.”
She tangled her fingers around his. “When I met you…” She looked at him and tried to smile, failing pitifully. “You were already a musician. This was already your world.” She looked back out at the ocean. “I didn’t have a complaint coming.”
“So why’d you stay?” he asked, feeling her squeeze his hand gently. “There was just something about me?” He laughed nervously.
“Yeah…there’s something about you all right.” Helplessness spilled out in her voice. “And it haunts me every minute of every day.”
“At least it won’t be easy for you to forget about me.”
Roxanne laughed helplessly. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.”
Frank touched her cheek, guiding her face to meet his gaze. “Roxie…I love you more than anything in this world.”
More than music? She looked into his hypnotic blue eyes. “Me too.”
“You will be in my thoughts every day and every night.”
Sure. Roxanne’s gaze fell upon the ocean again. “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Besides, he’d stay if she asked him to. Wouldn’t he?
“Will you be here when I get back?” he asked, hopeful.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Helpless laughter poured from her.
Finally, that dreaded day came and everyone gathered at Glen and Glenna’s house. Roxanne, Candy, and Glenna lounged in lawn chairs on the front lawn, getting high while the guys loaded the equipment on the truck.
With the truck packed full, Ronnie closed the doors and Frank went to Roxanne’s side.
“Let’s take a walk.” He reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. She followed him willingly.
Frank tried hard to find the right words. No matter how much effort he put into it, he could only think of one thing to say that would ease the pain of their impending separation. “I love you.”
“I know.” She looked at him. He could tell her smile was forced. “I love you, too.”
“I’m so afraid of coming back and finding out that I’ve lost you.”
“Frankie…I’ll be here waiting for you.”
“Don’t you let me come back here thinking you’re mine…if you’re not.”
“Frankie…”
“Please.” He searched her face for some hint of what she might be thinking. “Wait for me?”
Roxanne jerked her hand away, turned quickly and put some distance between them.
“Roxie…” He followed her. “Please don’t do this.”
“We’re okay,” she said, with her back to him.
Roxanne looked across the road at the cozy, green meadow.
Where is the ocean? She needed to hear the rushing waves rolling back and forth. So
mehow it had the power to calm her mind and soothe her soul. “Just go away,” she said. “I’ll be here when you get back.” A storm raged behind her eyes. “But for now…please, just go away.” Silent tears slid down her cheeks.
He was leaving her behind. The one thing she never wanted to face, but now she had to. She couldn’t deny it any longer.
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