Frank’s heart beat so strongly he could barely breathe. Through it all, only once did he pull his lips from Ellen’s. In their final moment, only briefly, Frank separated from that kiss.
A hesitation in their near lips, a cessation of movement with tightly closed eyes and one slow, shuddering breath ... quiet.
Frank kissed Ellen again.
<><><><>
Holding on to Ellen’s hips as she sat on the edge of the bed putting on her shirt, Frank ran his lips sensuously up from the small of her back and under shirt, feeling her. “You cold?”
“No.” She shook her head then flipped her hair from her collar. “Not at all.” She reached down and grabbed her underwear, putting them on.
“What are you doing?”
“Frank.” She smiled at him and bent down to kiss him. “I’m going home.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m going home.”
“You’re kidding me? Now?”
“Yes now, Frank.” Ellen finish getting dressed then leaned down to him. “I’ll see you ...”
“No.” Frank grabbed her arm. “Stay here.”
“I can’t stay here, Frank. I have to go home.” She pulled her arm away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“El, come on.” Frank slid from the bed holding the sheet to him. “Did I miss something? What was all this about? I thought, no I believed this was more than just making love.”
“Frank.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“I’m not leaving you.” She tapped him on the cheek. “I’m just going home.”
“Don’t,” Frank said with passion. “Don’t go. Please? Don’t do this to me, not right now. I need you.” He grabbed hold of her. “With the way we kissed, the way we made love, I swear, I thought this was it. You told me you loved me, El.” He kissed her. “Stay with me. Come back to bed.”
“Frank, what is wrong with you? You are way too upset over this.” She kissed him back. “So much that you’re missing what’s going on.”
“That’s because I’m scared to death that you’ll go home to Dean and this will never happen again.” He saw Ellen laugh. “What is so funny?”
“You, Frank. I would have never told you I love you, never been with you like I was if I had no intentions of following up on it. We have worked so hard to get to this moment. It’s a process, Frank, one that’s led us here, and unless you’re a big jerk, it will lead us here again.”
“So we’re back?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of.” Frank tossed his hand in the air and sat on the bed. “I put my heart on the line to you. I have waited so long for this. I was patient for this. I thought we made it. Finally. What will it take for me to get you to stop saying ‘sort of’.”
“Wanna know?”
“Yes.”
Ellen knelt before him and held his hand. “I’ll make you a deal. You have to quit drinking, Frank. Completely. You have to get dry. Do this for me. Show me that you have every intention of giving up the bottle. Show me and I will help you do it every step of the way. But I have to see that you’re sincere. If I see that, then I promise you here and now, that for the rest of our lives, you and I will always, always be more than a ‘sort of’.”
<><><><>
Dean shook his head slowly in shock and disbelief. “I said make it good. I didn’t think you would make it that good.”
“I had to tell you.” Ellen sat next to him on the porch.
“I’m glad you did.”
“You know what so funny, Dean. He wasn’t leaving Beginnings. I asked him. He was only packing his bags because Joe made the suggestion to let you have his house.”
“He needs it now, doesn’t he? We’re gonna go back to sharing the kids. Aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Ellen nodded, “but not yet. He can have his responsibilities back only after he quits drinking which we’ll see if he does.”
“So why did you come back?”
“I live here.”
“I have to tell you, Ellen, I thought you and I were back together.”
“We are.”
Dean laughed in sarcasm. “Not for long, if anymore.”
“Dean.” Ellen nudged her shoulder into him. “Who is the one who has said, more than once, that they don’t want to get completely involved? You. You’ve hurt my feelings you know.” She snickered . “Who said that they would be perfectly content being the understanding, or better yet, the ‘other man’. How was it that you put it? It was kind of insulting, yet true? You said it was because I’d never give up the other man?”
“To be honest, El, I got used to you living here. I like it.”
“Who are you kidding? You hate it. I bitch. I get in the way ...”
“But you’re here.”
“And I always will be,” Ellen said, “always for you.”
“Tell me where this leaves me.”
“Wherever you want it to.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“Just like I said, Dean, wherever you want it to leave you. Think about it. You’ve made the suggestion many times.” Ellen smiled. “Put it this way, you know how much time we spend together and how many hours a day that is. Basically, back together with Frank or not, I’m pretty much leaving it up to you on how you want to spend some of those hours.” She stood up then bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m going to bed. You coming up?”
“In a minute.” Hunching in annoyance as Ellen did what she always did whenever they sat on the porch—messed up his hair—Dean stared out into the street and thought about what Ellen had said then he grinned. Dean realized, for the first time ever, he just got his guarantee that he would not end up the loser again. It was a guarantee he could have had before. But this time ... Dean was going to take it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AUGUST 10
Frank’s trembling fingers ran through the little ponytail of Alexandra. He stared at her with a slight smile on his face. Of her, Billy, and Joey, she was the last one Frank wanted to say ‘hello’ to at the school. “Pretty.” He twirled her hair around his finger.
“Henry did it.” She smiled. “He always does my hair.”
“When?” Frank asked her.
“Here in school.”
“How often does Henry come here and do your hair?”
“Every day. Today I wanted a big ponytail. Some days I like them little because I like when he brushes my hair. He does that here since he pissed Mommy off and we can’t see him.”
Frank laughed at her. “I’m glad you’re not pissed off at Henry.”
“No way, I like Henry. He’s funny.” Her skinny legs swung back and forth as she sat on the small wall outside the school with Frank. “I wish Mommy would like him again.”
“Soon, Alex, I think soon.”
“Daddy does too. The other day, Mommy was trying to tell him a story and Daddy kept telling her. ‘Go talk with Henry. Go. Go!’.” Alexandra giggled. “How come he didn’t tell her to go tell her story to you?”
“Because Daddy knew I’d tell Mommy the same thing.”
“Why?” Alexandra asked. “She doesn’t live with you. Daddy says you don’t have to listen to Mommy stories if you live with her.”
“Daddy’s wrong. That’s a big mistake me and him both made. I’m hoping.” He held up crossed fingers. “I’m hoping that pretty soon she’ll be living at my house and telling me her stories again.”
“I hope so too.” Alexandra kept swinging her legs. “I like when you fight with her. It’s funny.” She reached up and grabbed his fingers. “You’re shaking.” She smiled.
“I know.” Frank lifted his eyes from her. “And ... Miss Jenny is waiting to take you back inside.”
Jenny, who had stepped from the school, held her hand out to Alexandra. “Come on, Alex, we have to go back in. Say goodbye to Frank.”
Alexandra slid from the wall reaching her small hands up to Frank’s face. “I love you.”
> Frank smiled at the feel of the tiny hands touching his cheeks. “I love you too.” He kissed her. “Be good.” He tapped her backside as she ran to Jenny.
Jenny paused before going back inside with Alexandra. “Frank? Are you all right? You look like you don’t feel well.”
“I’m fine.” He stood up. “Thanks. And uh thanks for letting me see the kids. I missed them yesterday.”
“Sure, Frank.” Holding Alexandra’s hand, Jenny took her into the school.
Smiling a simple smile, Frank waited outside the school, watching it. He ran his hand over his head then sniffed through his clogged nose. Folding his arms close to his body with a shiver, he began to walk away when he felt something odd on the ground as he walked. Wondering what he stepped on, Frank looked down and lifted his boot. There beneath his huge foot, lying semi-crushed, was a mouse. “Weird.” Frank bent down and picked up the lifeless creature by the tail, looked at it, shrugged, tossed it in the bush, and continued on toward the nursery.
<><><><>
Henry fluttered his lips to repel the oil that dripped across his mouth as he lay under the truck near the field house. “She’s leaking oil really ...” another flutter of his lips, “... badly. Did you know that, Cole?”
“Yep.”
“Well I’m not the truck guy. Frank and Robbie are. I can probably fix it but you should ask one of them.”
“I would,” Cole said, “but Frank is doing rounds or something and Robbie is testing that tracking system.”
“Use the other truck.” Henry cased his eyes back, looking around. He felt it on his lips again and blew out.
“This truck is bigger. I have a ton of shit to take to Distribution.”
“Well I have ...” Henry wondered why the oil felt so heavy on his lips then it moved. Slowly he lowered his eyes. They nearly crossed over the bridge of his nose only to be greeted by two beady, tiny eyes connected to a grey furry body. Henry shrieked.
“Henry, what ...” Cole heard the scream coupled with the bang. “Are you all right?” As he bent down to check out Henry, he jumped from the way of the scurrying mouse. “Shit.” Reaching under the truck, Cole pulled out the cart Henry laid on. “Henry?” He shook him. Henry was out cold.
<><><><>
Frank plastered him with kisses. Holding little Brian so tightly, he just didn’t want to let him go but Brian seemed concerned with getting out of Frank’s arms and running off elsewhere in the nursery. Frank lifted Brian’s little cast arm and pointed at it to where he had written ‘Dad’. “Look Bri, Daddy. Where’s Daddy’s name? Show me.”
Brian pointed where Frank did.
“Good boy. Dad.” Frank rubbed the boy’s shaved head. It already was starting to grow back. “I love you.” In baby talk, Brian responded and Frank grinned while setting him down. In the awkward baby-tilt walk, Brian darted off. Having visited his last child, Frank moved on.
He found Dean in Andrea’s office. Dean was so unsuspecting to the fact that Frank lingered in the doorway watching him rummage through Andrea’s desk. Frank kept thinking how much easier it would be for Dean to find what he was looking for if, instead of leaning over the desk looking, he just walked around and opened the drawer. “Dean.”
Dean’s hand moved about the drawer, slowing down at Frank’s call to him. It wasn’t the usual loud and annoying one. “Here to gloat about being with Ellen?”
“No.”
“Then why ...” Dean sat up from his lean over the desk and looked at Frank. “My God, Frank, you look like shit.”
Frank stepped into the office, his head was low and he looked at Dean’s through the tops of his eyes. “I need ... I need your help, Dean. Can you help me?”
Dean said nothing. He slid from the desk, walked past Frank, and shut the office door.
<><><><>
It seemed to Frank like a well-deserved prison sentence as he stepped into a Holding room and set down his small bag. He let out a breath, looking around the room.
Dean walked in behind him, placing a box on the dresser. “This will hold you until tomorrow. I’ll check tomorrow to see what you need.”
Frank looked in the box. “Supplies.” He pulled out another box. “What’s this?” He opened it. “Fuck, Dean, are there enough cigarettes in here?”
“Honestly? Probably not. You’ll smoke a lot in here.” He walked to Frank. “I need your gun.”
“What?”
“Give me your gun, Frank. I need it.” Dean held out his hand.
Frank removed it from the harness and laid it into Dean’s palm. He watched Dean look around the room. “What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if there’s any other way you could hurt yourself.”
“Hurt myself?”
“You’re not heading on a picnic here, Frank. Things are gonna get bad. Look at you now. You’re pale and you’re sweating because you haven’t had a drink in nearly two days. You’re headed right now into the roughest time.” Dean motioned his hand to the bed. “Have a seat.”
Slowly Frank walked over to the bed. “Dean, I know I’m gonna be up here for a few days. I don’t want anyone to know why.”
“They won’t. As far as everyone will be concerned, you are quarantined for suspicion of tuberculosis. We’ll tell them it was just the flu and that will explain why you’ll look pale and have a little weight loss.” Dean found the chair and scooted it to the bed then sat on it. “OK, Frank.” He leaned forward. “You are here to dry up. This is your detox. This will be the worst few days of your life. I can guarantee it. I want you to drink as much water as possible while you’re here. I’ll continue to check on you as if you were any of my other patients. I’ll bring you food, but to be honest, you probably won’t eat. You may ... what’s today? Monday?” Dean took a second to think. “You may eat something on Wednesday. I don’t know. By what I figure, tonight things are gonna hit their worst. You will ...” Dean began to spew forth his words as if he were reading from a list. “You will get the shakes, worse then you have right now, much worse. You will sweat. You will vomit. The pain you will feel in your stomach will be unbearable, but that should subside by tomorrow or tomorrow night. The vomiting and the shakes will continue for about two days. You may hear voices. You may hallucinate. Your skin will feel like it’s crawling, sometimes on fire. You’ll feel like you’re reaching your breaking point. This is normal and it’s is all part of cleaning out your system. It’s an addiction that your body has learned to live with and you just have to show it, during these next few days, how to live without the alcohol again. When you get out of here, you cannot ever drink again. You’ll have the urge which will never leave you, but all it will take is one drink and you’re right back to square one. Got that?”
“Yes.” Frank nodded his head, listening to Dean.
“I can help a little with the urges. If you need it, I can give you something that we can wean you off in a week or so. I can also give you an Antabuse, which will cause extreme nausea if you do drink alcohol. Those are last resorts and, preferably, you should do this without any help from drugs. My advice for the next rough spots is keep busy. Smoking will help. Talking to someone will also help. Come to me if you like. I’ll talk to you. I’ll help you.”
“When do you think I’ll get out of here?”
“Considering you haven’t had a drink since Brian’s accident, I’m going with Wednesday night or Thursday. It depends on your progress. I want you to not be physically ill anymore when I let you out.”
“Well then, I guess ...” Frank reached to his belt and pulled off his keys. “I guess I’d better start this thing then.” He handed the keys to Dean. “Lock me in.”
Dean held the humongous set of keys in his hand as he stood up. “There are plenty of blankets but you’re gonna go from hot to cold very easily.”
“OK.” Frank followed him to the door. There was a lot of nervousness in his voice.
“Frank?” Dean turned around before he left. “What you’re gonna go thr
ough is not going to be easy. It’ll be very, very hard. But when you walk out this door, you’ll be dry. You’ll be clean and sober and I have every faith in you that you will stay that way.”
“Thank you for that.” He extended his hand to Dean. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” Dean shook his hand and stepped back. “Good luck to you.”
Frank let out a sigh when Dean left the room. He stayed by the door and listened to it lock. He turned around and faced the room before him and with that, he prepared to face the inner struggle he was about to embark upon.
<><><><>
“Good you’re here,” Joe spoke to Henry as he shut his door and walked to behind his desk. “You know why I asked you here. Where the hell did they come from? Why now? You’re the goddamn theory man. Can you ...” Joe halted in his lowering to the chair. “Henry, your head is bleeding.”
“Yes, I know, Joe.” He brought a cloth to his forehead.
“Don’t you think you ought to do something about that?” Joe sat down.
“No I don’t.”
“How did it happen?”
“I got hit with another extreme case of bad luck. It knocked me out Joe. I was out for a whole five minutes.”
“Maybe you ought to ...”
“No.” Henry held up his cloth. “No. Let’s talk about the mice situation.”
“OK, I have reports that we have them in town but not many. We’ve also spotted them in the fields. Me alone, I’ve killed four of them. Anyway, can we get Mechanics to start building some traps until I speak to Dean about creating something?”
“No, Joe, Mechanics is swamped, especially with the tracking system going up. We do have twelve extra hands being trained in the Security area. Maybe we can have Robbie or Frank tell them it’s a drill and have them make them.”
“Good idea. If they can’t, perhaps you can reprogram them.”
Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8 Page 51