Be Frank With Me

“Are you Frank’s dad?” I asked.

He stared at me for a minute, then took my forearm and shoved me farther into my room and closed the door. “Why would you ask me that? Do you think I would have gone after you in Mimi’s house if Mimi and I had been together once?”

He went after me? I’m ashamed to say how that thrilled me. “I never said you two were romantically involved. You could have done it as a friend. People do that.” I imagined then how Mimi would phrase that request. Pardon me, could you spare a thimbleful of sperm? Although of course she would have worded it more carefully. “Thimbleful” isn’t a unit of measure you want to link up with a guy’s manly parts in any context. Not if you want something from him.

“We’re friends,” Xander said. “But not like that.”

“What kind of friends are you then?” I asked. “Because for the life of me, I can’t figure out how you fit into the picture here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Frank told me you were in the delivery room with Mimi the night he was born. That’s kind of a lot to ask of some guy who’s just a friend.”

Xander sat down on my bed and collapsed back, his arms splayed wide. “Sweet suffering Jesus,” he said. “Mimi has nobody, Alice. Nobody.” He lay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling. Then he sat up and said, “Do you know what that’s like?”

“So, what are you saying? It’s you? Not you? I’m curious.”

He gave me one of those long hard looks you give someone on the street when you start wondering if that’s somebody from your old neighborhood or an actor you’ve seen on television or an enemy from another life.

“You’re not curious, Alice. You’re selfish.”

I’ve been called a few names in my life—boring, mousy, Goody-Two-shoes, suck-up. Not selfish. Never selfish.

Xander pushed past me. His eyes passed over my face this time like he’d never seen me before in his life. Like I was air.

MIMI WAS RIGHT. It had been nice to be so sure of myself. Now that I didn’t have that compass anymore, I’d never felt so lost. I dropped onto the red love seat and hated myself for a good long time. Here are some adjectives I aimed at myself: Self-righteous. Judgmental. Perfidious. Smug. The kind of person who’s convinced the world would be a better place if everybody else would just shut up and listen.

I was the voice of Dr. Matthews coming through the air vent.

From the rain the hills had sprung a tender, hopeful green that wouldn’t last out the week. My stomach started growling but I wasn’t hungry. I needed to call a cab but I didn’t do it. It wasn’t like I was going to miss my plane or anything. My plan was to show up and take the next spot on standby any airline offered up.

When the knock came the second time, I didn’t answer. Mimi didn’t knock again. She let herself in. “You’re still here,” she said.

“I was just calling a cab.” I didn’t turn to look at her.

“I need you,” she said.

“Whatever it is, Xander can help you out.”

“Xander can’t drive.”

“What do you mean? Of course he can drive.”

“He doesn’t have a license.”

I turned around when she said that. Even though she was more than old enough to be my mother, I’d never thought of Mimi as old until then.

“He drove the station wagon to pick up lumber to fix the door,” I said.

“He can’t kill lumber,” she said. “I need you to drive me to the hospital. Frank is on his way there in an ambulance.”

“IT’S ALL MY fault,” Mimi said.

I was driving as fast as I could without killing us. “It’s not your fault. Don’t say that.”

“It is,” she said. “After you got through talking to me, I was sitting at my desk thinking I wouldn’t have had to let you in my house if Frank had never been born.”

They had called from school to tell Mimi that Frank had had a seizure.

“A seizure?” I said. “That’s not so terrible. A seizure can be caused by almost anything. Low blood sugar. Lack of sleep. Heat. An allergic reaction.” Brain tumor. I skipped that one.

“Brain tumor,” Mimi whispered. “That would explain so much.”

The not-Paula office lady had telephoned. “I called your partner Alice,” she told Mimi. “But she wasn’t answering. You’ll probably want to get in touch with her before you leave for the hospital.”

Frank had two mommies. Honestly, the kid could have used a dozen.

ON THE WAY to the hospital, Mimi told me the whole sad unfictional story of the end of Julian.

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