Forgetful Mind
Title: Forgetful Mind
Author: Fabfan
Fandom: All My Children
Pairing: Bianca/Frankie
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Summary: Can love truly be forgotten? Takes place around 2003.
Part 1
Part 2
Bianca hovered nervously near the edge of the bed, her eyes following Frankie’s every move. The older brunette was stationed by the window, shoulder leaned against the wall as she stared out into the darkened cityscape. Bianca bit her lip. What was Frankie thinking? Did she want to leave? Wondering why she agreed to stay? She hadn’t said a word since stepping away from the door. Not one word. She didn’t even utter a sound. No cough or sigh. Nothing.
It made Bianca want to tear at her hair.
Her nerves were a jumbled mess. She wanted to say something. Plead with Frankie. Yell at her. Explain what little she knew. Ask the other girl what she believed.
She wanted Frankie to look at her.
It should infuriate Bianca. Drive her crazy. Frighten her. Something. Frankie wasn’t speaking to her. She agreed to talk, but nothing was happening. What did it all mean? Why was Frankie there? What was meant to be occurring? There was so much Bianca wanted to say, but how? What? When? If she broke the silence, would Frankie listen? Or would she argue back? Run away?
What would Frankie do if Bianca walked right up to her and kissed her? Took her in her arms and captured her lips in the sweetest kiss two people could share?
Only Frankie could make her want to take charge and feel so tentative at the same time. Just like it was only Frankie who could heal and break her heart in the same day. Yet, with all the confusion and mess of emotions, Bianca still silently thanked god that Frankie was standing there. She could break Bianca’s heart a million times over as long as Bianca could still see her face, hear her voice, feel her touch.
Bianca’s tender brown orbs roamed over the other woman’s form. Each sweep of her eyes went straight to her heart. She’d almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to simply be near Frankie. It felt like a missing piece, a piece of herself thought lost, was quietly put back in place. She was whole. Full.
She missed this feeling.
Why couldn’t things ever be easy with them? Bianca wanted to throw her hands in the air at the ways of the world. Everything always had to be so difficult. Whether it was her mother blasting Frankie for being a slick grifter whose only goal in life was to take advantage of poor innocent Bianca or it was Vanessa’s dirty rotten scheme, their relationship was never simple. Except, it was. Or, it had been. Those few times when they could pretend the world didn’t exist. The entire universe consisted of the two of them curled in bed together or holding hands while watching the waves crash on the cold beach. There were times when life was perfect. When their love was so easy. Being in love was like breathing. Natural.
That was why she wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t. Their love meant more to Bianca than she could ever say. It gave her strength. Hope. Made her believe in true happiness. She once told Leo that true love was nearly impossible to find. That if you could find someone you loved completely and who loved you back, you were lucky. Not many people found that special someone. She had found it with Frankie before Vanessa ripped it all away. But, Frankie was here now. Vanessa didn’t win. And she’d be damned if something as stubborn as Frankie Stone with amnesia would get in the way of them discovering if they really could have a happily ever after.
This damn silence was so heavy, though. Ripe with awkwardness and unspoken emotion. A cloud of uncertainty and tension that could be cut with a knife. It had to be broken. By the looks of it, Frankie wasn’t going to be the one to do it. Bianca learned a few things about her girlfriend when they were together. One of them was that Frankie was brave. Brave and smart and strong. She wasn’t afraid to take on Erica Kane or match wits with the hierarchy of Pine Valley. She was the first one to flirt. In that small hospital room right after the accident, Frankie pressed her lips to her fingers and brushed the tips against Bianca in a tantalizing mirage of a kiss. But, Frankie was also vulnerable. That tough image could fade away when it came to love. Frankie was the girl who broke Bianca’s heart when she wetly stammered she’d never been told she was loved before. That she didn’t know what love was or meant. She did her best to close herself off whenever things got too intense. Frankie may have flirted first, but Bianca was the one to take the lead when it came to nurturing their love. Frankie was willing to follow wherever Bianca led.
Clearing her throat, Bianca nodded at the telephone on the bedside desk, “We should probably order something.”
Frankie didn’t respond, only a shift in her stance showing that she’d heard Bianca.
Sighing to herself, Bianca picked up the phone and dialed room service. She opened the drawer in the desk and pulled out the menu booklet, flipping to the right page, “Do you want to look at what they have?” She held it out toward the other woman.
After a moment, Frankie walked over to her and took the offered book. Bianca bit back her frown when Frankie’s fingers strayed from touching her own atop the dull page. The older girl did it on purpose. Frankie quickly scanned the menu as a voice called out from the other end of the line, “Hello, room service.”
“Yes, hi.” Bianca continued to watch Frankie out of the corner of her eye. “I’d like to order a ceaser salad and a coke. Also, can I get a…” she tilted her head at Frankie. What would Frankie order? Salmon? Filet Mignon? Steak frites? Steak frites was French. Greg took them to a French restaurant. Frankie lived in France. She was probably a big French food eater now.
“Cheeseburger,” Frankie flipped the page, “and a glass of cabernet sauvignon.”
A cheeseburger.
Bianca felt a hitch in her chest. Frankie really liked burgers. It was her go-to order when they went out to eat. “A-Anything else?”
Frankie closed the book, “No, oh. Can they…”
Put the onions on the side, Bianca mentally recited along with her. She relayed the request down the phone, halfheartedly nodding as she was told thirty minutes. She hung up, eyes riveted to Frankie. God, if Frankie had order a coke, it would have been like being at BJs. Frankie always ordered the fried onion strings that were meant to be on top of the burger on the side because she ate them like French fries. All she wanted on her burgers, anyway, was the standard toppings, nothing fancy like fried stuff. Swallowing thickly, Bianca licked her lips, “Cabernet?”
Frankie shrugged, “My uncle’s fault. He had me drink a glass with it once, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”
“Not the merlot?”
“It’s what he poured.” Frankie stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned, pacing back to the window. She added with a mumble, “I like it better, anyway.”
Bianca followed her, “What else do you like?”
Frankie reached the desk and popped her hip onto the edge, “Thought you knew me?”
Bianca smiled softly, a twitch of flirtation seeping in unknowingly, “Maybe I like it when you tell me things.”
Frankie glanced down at the floor, not saying anything.
Damn it. Frankie wanted to shut down, Bianca could feel it. Build up the walls. She wasn’t going to let Frankie do that. “Your uncle seems like a nice man.”
“He is.” Frankie looked up at her. Bianca felt her heart melt at the gentle smile, “He’s a good guy.”
“Your aunt is Lucie?”
“Yeah.”
“Your uncle was saying she works in a boutique?” she carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other.
Frankie nodded, “She knows everything about fashion. Loves to shop.” Her eyes darted down to Bianca’s toned calves for half a second, flickering up the length before snapping away.
She saw that look. Frankie always thought she was sly about it, but Bianca caught her every single time. “Sounds like my mother.” Bianca grinned. If there was one thing about Erica Kane, it was that she loved to shop.
Frankie pulled her hand out of her pocket and picked at the wood of the desk, “She always wants to take me shopping when I’m home or to some fashion show.”
“I bet you enjoy that.” Bianca playfully replied. Frankie at a fashion show? The same girl who balked at wearing something more elegant than a rugged sweatshirt and baggy blue jeans? The thought made Bianca giggle softly.
“Uncle Greg lets me help on some projects when it’s fashion season.” Frankie smirked.
“Ah, so you hide out with your uncle.”
“Alaine Investments needs all the help I can offer.”
“Of course. They would be amiss to turn away your investment guru-ness.” Bianca chuckled.
Frankie’s smirk widened and morphed into a lopsided grin that Bianca remembered well. “My aunt has learned to go on without me.”
Bianca blinked, forcing herself to not read into the grin. The same grin that made Bianca’s heart melt into mush. Frankie could charm the devil with that grin. Maybe even bring about world peace. If she flashed it at Erica, La Kane probably would have welcomed her into the family with open arms instead of a battle of wills. Bianca could remember kissing that grin. It tasted like happiness and freedom.
The lull in the conversation was long enough for Frankie to figure out that she was being open and friendly with a girl she most likely saw as a crazy person. Bianca frowned as she noticed Frankie freeze for a moment before leaning back. Frankie pushed off of the desk and moved to the window, taking up her earlier post there.
“Frankie?” Bianca bent around, attempting to see her eyes. Frankie’s eyes were like a book to her. A window to that cherished soul. If she could only see what Frankie was thinking. Feeling.
The hazels were halfway to blocking that entrance off with practiced cold indifference. A cold indifference that was not nearly as strong as the first time Bianca ever experienced it in Pine Valley.
“Frankie.” Bianca tried again, this time a little firmer. She hated when things got intense and Frankie wouldn’t answer her.
“This isn’t going to be what you want it to be.”
Bianca clenched her hands in the comforter of the bed, “What is it I want it to be?” The same ice-cold chill from the restaurant invaded her blood. This time, though, it battled against the warm resolve of knowing Frankie was there because she wanted to be, had chosen to be, and they were going to work this out no matter what it took.
Frankie folded her arms across her chest, “I’m not going to sit here and act like we know each other.”
“We were talking, Frankie. That’s what people do.” Bianca stood up.
“Two people who are complete strangers?” Frankie scoffed, “We both know why I’m here.”
“Why’s that?”
Frankie finally peered over at her, “To help you understand that I’m not your girlfriend.”
It still stung to hear Frankie refer to herself that way. It nicked at the iron shield Bianca built up to guard her heart after all the rejections, false starts, and heartache her love life produced. Iron that was clearly penetrated with ease by Frankie. She repeated to herself that Frankie didn’t mean it the way everyone else had. Frankie wasn’t not choosing her. She didn’t know. “What about the window?” Bianca pointed at the glass, “You said yourself I know something only your aunt and uncle do. How would I know that if we’d never met before today?”
Frankie shrugged, turning her eyes back to the flashing lights.
Bianca exhaled loudly, “What do I have to do to get you to listen to me?” She closed the distance between them, “What, Frankie? Because you said we could talk. That you’d listen. Yet, when we start doing just that, you close up on me.”
Frankie ducked her head.
Bianca ran a hand through her hair, growling when her fingers bumped into the pins holding it up, “All I want is to talk to you.” She spun on her heel and stormed the few steps to the other end of the room. Frankie and her stubbornness!
“I know.” Frankie’s reply was barely above a whisper.
Bianca still heard her. She stopped, breathing in the quiet admission with a sense of heart-breaking hope and sadness, “Then why can’t you talk to me? I’m not asking you to…to make out with me or go to Fiji on some wild romantic honeymoon. I’m asking you to tell me about yourself. To listen when I say I…” she pressed a hand to her head in frustration, “that I care about you.”
Frankie pressed her lips together in a firm line, eyes glued to the aged carpet and heater beneath the glass. Bianca watched her. Frankie was tense. Muscles coiled tight. Her jaw was locked and arms crossed so tightly she could be cutting off circulation.
“Frankie…”
“I am talking to you.” Frankie cut her off, the words blurting out. By the way Frankie grimaced, it was an unintended statement.
Bianca’s brow knit together, “Frankie?”
Unfolding her arms, Frankie shrugged helplessly, “I’ve been talking to you.”
“What do you mean?”
Rolling her neck, Frankie slid away from the window. She moved to slip her hands in her pockets, but they didn’t obey and went to her face instead, one rubbing her nose with a quiet sniffle while the other gestured along with her words, “I don’t tell people things like this. I don’t hide things, but I…I don’t just bring up how I’m not actually related to Greg or Lucie. Or that I can’t remember anything before a couple years ago. Especially not to a business associate. I don’t talk about things like that.”
“What are you saying?” She didn’t want to guess what Frankie’s words meant. Didn’t want to break her own heart if she was wrong. It was too bad her heart was already reaching out, yearning to hear the words it had so longed for.
“I’m saying…” Frankie took a deep breath, “I keep telling you stuff. I keep opening up to you when I know I shouldn’t.”
“That’s ok, Frankie.” Bianca moved toward her, “It’s ok.”
“Is it?” Frankie raised an eyebrow, “Because I don’t think it is.”
She shouldn’t read into this, but how could she not? Frankie was opening up to her. Did Frankie unconsciously trust her? Her mind somehow recognize that Bianca was someone she could tell things to? Rely on? “Why isn’t it ok to talk to me?”
Frankie chuckled humorlessly, “You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You think I’m your ex-girlfriend.”
“I think,” Bianca chose her words carefully, “that I care about you. That I want to spend time with you.”
“And then what?”
Bianca shrugged, “We’ll see when we get there.”
Frankie rolled her eyes, “And I’m supposed to believe that? You were just saying how you are in love with me and I’m your long lost lover. Now, you want me to think all you want is to spend time with me?” She half shrugged, “And that’s assuming I believe your story about us knowing each other.”
“Yes.” She forced herself to not reach for Frankie. Her fingers itched to latch onto the tanner ones, but she knew it was too much for the moment, “I told you. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I won’t take it back, because it was amazing. I’d never take that back. But, it was too quick. I would never force you to do anything. I’m not like that. But, I do truly believe I’ve met you before. I…god Frankie, I’d never not care about you. That’s not going to happen. But, I can want to get to know you. You’ve spent all this time living a life I know nothing about. I want to know what you’ve done. What makes you happy or sad. What makes you laugh. I want to hear about your Uncle Greg having you drink cabernet sauvignon with a burger for the first time.” Tears pricked her eyes, “I want to tell you about my classes and hear about yours. Do I want you to remember me? Of course. I want nothing more than that. Do I want you to feel about me the same way I feel about you? I would give everything to have that happen. But, I won’t push you. If we spend time together, and you fall in love with me? Remember me? I’ll be happy. If…if you don’t? Then…then I’ll accept it.”
Frankie’s eyes narrowed, “You’re being serious.”
“I am.” Oh god it would hurt, but she was.
Frankie shook her head, thoughts and feelings flashing across her face.
Unable to hold herself back any longer, Bianca grasped her hand, “This is what I want. You are what I want, however I can have you. Let’s get to know each other. Please.” Her eyes searched Frankie’s. Begged her. “Let me…be your friend.”
Frankie’s voice was rough, “A friend?”
Bianca nodded. She would always want more with Frankie. They were never truly just friends, and they never would be. But, if being her friend was how she kept Frankie in her life…then so be it.
Frankie blinked and cleared her throat, “Couldn’t hurt to have a friend with the same accent as me.”
“Do you mean it?” her lips lifted slowly as it sunk in. Frankie was agreeing. And it was so like her to attempt a joke when things were intense.
“Do you?”
“With everything inside of me.”
There was a knock at the door, “Room service!”
The corner of Frankie’s mouth quirked, “Dinner’s here.”
Bianca reluctantly let her hand go and went to the door. She opened it up and let the man inside. He quickly set up the makeshift table. When he went to hand the bill to Bianca, Frankie quickly intercepted it.
“Frankie? What are you doing?”
Frankie ignored her, twirling the pen in her hand. She jotted down something before handing it to the man who left with a tip of his hat.
“What was that?”
“We invited you to dinner.”
“You paid for this?” Bianca’s eyes widened, “You didn’t have to pay for dinner.”
“Still did.” Frankie grabbed the back of the desk chair and dragged it to the end of the cart turned table.
“I could have paid, Frankie. It’d be charged to Enchantment.” She sat down on the bed and picked up her fork.
Frankie popped the lid off the ketchup as she slid into her seat, “I…was rude to you at Jean Georges. I may have no manners at all, but even I know I was being a jerk.”
Bianca nearly dropped her fork.
Well, your mom called it. I’m a stray, and we got no manners at all.
Right. A phone call. I should have called. I’ve got like no manners at all.
Bianca juggled her fork. Frankie said something so similar to that when they first met and again while talking to Opal. Bianca peeked at the other girl. Frankie was dipping the crispy fried onions into a puddle of ketchup, munching on them hungrily. She didn’t even notice. How could she? She didn’t remember. But, Bianca smiled to herself, her Frankie was still in there.
“So, Frankie,” she shook the memory away, “tell me about yourself.”
Frankie picked up her wine glass with a raised eyebrow.
“Ok, tell me about New York.” Bianca amended, easily reading the look. It had been too vague of a question. Too generic. Cliché. “Why are you here?”
Frankie took a tiny sip, “I had a long weekend, and Uncle Greg asked me to help with a project while I had time. I stopped by to meet with some other people, and he got caught up so I met with you, too.”
“Do you like New York?”
“It’s alright. Not my favorite.”
“Not as good as Paris or London?”
Frankie took a bite of her cheeseburger, “Not to me. We have an apartment at The Plaza. That’s where we stay. It’s ok, but I’m not a big fan of Manhattan.”
Frankie wouldn’t be, “Where would you rather be?”
“I don’t mind the Bronx or Brooklyn. I go there sometimes when I’m in the city. I feel more…comfortable there. I usually only stay for a day or two, though.”
Bianca silently chuckled. Frankie would trade Manhattan for the Bronx.
She took another sip of wine, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Bianca did drop her fork this time. It clattered loudly against the plate. “Tomorrow?” Frankie was leaving? No, she couldn’t be. They’d just found each other!
Frankie poked at the onion straws, “Classes.”
Bianca shakily picked up her fork and speared a sprig of lettuce, “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Do, um, you like your classes?” Bianca concentrated on the scattered pieces of lettuce on the plate. She forced herself to ignore the choking blinding pain squeezing her chest.
“Yeah, they’re good.” Frankie ate another onion. This time her munching was decidedly less robust. It was as if Bianca wasn’t the only one affected by the news.
“Good. That’s good.” Bianca nodded solemnly.
“What about you? You said you’re taking classes, right?”
Bianca smiled halfheartedly, “Yeah, at Pine Valley University.” The same school Frankie spoke about going to before the shooting. “I like it. It’s nice being close to my family, and I have friends there so…”she let her sentence trail off with a shrug.
Frankie’s eyes twinkled, “Are you part of a sorority?”
“Frankie!” she giggled, “Please, like I’d go for one of those…” she waved her fork searching for the right word.
“Wild?” Frankie supplied.
“No,” Bianca laughed, “more like…loud. And high school clique-ish. They wouldn’t want me, anyway. I’m not really into the whole greek life thing.” She reached for her soda, “What about you?” Did Frankie rush? Did they even have sororities in England? Bianca couldn’t imagine Frankie sitting around with her sorority sisters chatting about the frat boys and doing each other’s nails.
“They don’t have that at King’s. I’ve seen it in movies, though. Looks like a bunch of slappers. Not really my scene.” Frankie chewed a bite of burger. “I went to a party once that seemed like the movies, and it was boring.”
“Boring? Really?”
“Rather have a drink at the pub.” She smirked, “At least if the company’s bad, you can get a pint and find a friend to give ya cover.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Having a pint or dodging a girl?” Frankie wiped her fingers on her napkin, the playfulness receding from her tone, “I’m not as shy as you think I am.”
Bianca’s hand froze halfway to scooping up a crouton.
Her eyes ticked down to the napkin, and she fiddled with the creases, “Not having a girlfriend doesn’t mean I don’t meet up for drinks.”
“Drinks?” Bianca breathed out. What did that mean? She shouldn’t be jealous. Not after she’d gone on dates with Lena, flirted and kissed the Polish woman. Not when Frankie clearly had amnesia. Still, though, the glimmer of envy and pain bubbled in her belly.
Frankie refolded the napkin, and her eyebrow rose slightly, “You keep saying I kissed you back in the park. I wasn’t too shy to kiss a girl I’d just met.”
Bianca bit her tongue, we hadn’t just met right on the tip.
Sensing the thought, Frankie shrugged, “Or someone I think I’ve just met.” She picked up her wine, “I’ve met up with plenty of girls.”
Bianca swallowed thickly. What was she supposed to do with this? It felt like a weight landed on her chest. “Oh.” She licked her lips, “Your uncle said…”
“That I never bring anyone home.”
The implication struck Bianca like a sledgehammer. Straight to the heart. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t. The question popped in her head, though, and it stayed there. Mocking her. Taunting her until she got the answer, “You said they didn’t interest you.”
“They didn’t.”
She internally cringed as the challenge passed her lips, “Not even enough for one night?”
“It wasn’t always like that. I haven’t gone home with half of London.” Frankie set the glass down, her fingertips going to her forehead. She pressed them right above her brow, “It…”
“It what?”
Frankie exhaled, “didn’t feel…right.”
Feel right? What did that mean? What didn’t feel right?
Frankie shook her head, “Never mind.”
“No, it’s ok. You can tell me things.” Bianca slowly leaned toward her, “We’re talking. Like friends.”
Frankie blinked, “Yeah, I suppose.”
“Frankie,” Bianca took a breath, “it’s ok for you to trust me. You may not totally believe me about our past, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be open with me.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Why would I lie?”
Frankie shifted in her chair, “I am quite the eligible bachelorette.”
A surprised chuckle burst out, “And quite modest about it too.”
“You must know modesty gets you no where in this business.”
“And this is a business date?” the second the words left her mouth, she mentally slapped herself. Date? That was the word she used? Did she want Frankie to run away?
Frankie paused for a moment.
Bianca knew it. She’d screwed it up again. What was wrong with her? When they finally relax and start anything resembling flirting, she goes and puts her foot in her mouth. She was never this bad with anyone else, not even the first time they got together.
Amusement washed over Frankie’s face, “Most of my meetings for Alaine are not in a bedroom with room service.”
Gosh, she loved this girl, “This isn’t Alaine Investment’s strategy?” The tenseness in her shoulders melted away.
“My uncle’s been holding out on the secret to his infinite success.”
“He knew you’d figure it out sooner or later.”
“Or that Aunt Lucie would give him hell if she heard about it.”
Bianca tilted her head, the happiness lighting up her companion’s face whenever Greg or Lucie were mentioned palpable, “You really like them. Your family.”
“Yeah. Of course. They’re my family. They’ve been really good to me.”
“I’m really glad you have them.”
“You’re only saying that because you eavesdropped on my uncle telling me to be nice to you.” Was shot back with a pointed look.
“I’ll have to send him a card for getting you to have dinner with me.” She didn’t care that she eavesdropped. Not when it ended up with Frankie and her talking. Her heart felt like it could explode with joy, as clichéd as it sounded. This simple back and forth chatter, easy and playful, was something she didn’t have with Lena. Or Sarah. This was part of what made them them. The undeniable spark and connection. It was there from the very first moment they talked back in the Pine Valley hospital.
“Don’t I get anything? I’m the one who showed up.”
“I was going to buy you a burger, but you paid before I could.”
Frankie shook her head mockingly, “How dare I buy a girl a meal? My family would be so devastated at my etiquette.”
Etiquette? Frankie? Bianca couldn’t help but snicker to herself. How many times had Frankie ruffled feathers or blatantly thumbed her nose at proper etiquette? What could you expect from a street kid? Teacups with pointed pinky fingers and champagne toasts?
“Memories or imagining another chapter of your story?”
“What?”
“You had that same look on your face at lunch when you saw me and were thinking about your ex.”
“I was thinking about you.”
They stared at each other for a minute. Bianca could see the swirls of color in Frankie’s eyes twist and turn with flashes of thought and questioning.
Frankie leaned her elbows on the table, “You want honesty?”
“Always.” That’s all she ever asked for from Frankie. She held her breath. Where was this leading?
“Honestly, I think you’re kind of nuts. From what I know, your family is on the cover of the tabloids all the time, and this crazy story of yours is perfect for their front pages. I don’t know who in their right mind would ever tell someone they’re their long lost love and kiss them like that. Especially since we’re both girls. I don’t hide who I am, but I’m not paparazzi fodder like some other rich kids, so it’s not exactly a universally known fact I’m into girls…though I did sort of hit on you at the restaurant.”
Bianca opened her mouth to speak, part of her endeared by the pinkish hue tinting Frankie’s cheeks and ears at the last confession.
Frankie gave a subtle shake of her head to hold her off, hands clasping together on the table. “Everything you’ve told me seems like a ploy to either get some press coverage or…or get an in with Alaine Investments…or something. But…you know things. You know about the windows. And, you know how I sleep.” Her knuckles began to turn white from how harshly they were squeezing, “You sound nuts, but I say things to you that are personal, and I think it’s because I feel comfortable around you. I don’t know why I do. I don’t remember you. You don’t look familiar. You don’t sound familiar. You showed up practically out of the blue and told me you love me. You say it so easily. Effortlessly. Like you’ve done it a hundred times, and you’ve believed it every time.”
A pale hand covered Frankie’s, and the firm hold unconsciously relaxed beneath it, “Frankie, I’ve told you. I won’t pressure you or push you, but I do care about you.”
Frankie peered up into impossibly deep brown eyes. Bianca could feel the stare in every nerve-ending, “I think you’re nuts, and your story is crazier than Lewis Carroll and Oliver Wilde combined, but you confuse me. Sometimes it makes sense, but a lot of times it doesn’t. You could be playing me or you could be telling the truth. I don’t know. I don’t know why you thought I was dead from some mugging or if all these people supposedly knew me why none of them showed up. You never came to the hospital. You say I have this whole other life I don’t know about, but just because I can’t remember much doesn’t mean you’re not lying to me. I should stay the hell away from you, but I’m sitting here having dinner with you in your hotel room. Nothing about this makes sense.”
“Frankie,” if she’d known, she would have found whatever hospital Frankie was in and never left her bedside.
“I’ve got an early flight to London tomorrow.” Frankie sucked on her bottom lip thoughtfully before continuing; “Maybe I can call you when I get in?”
Frankie wanted to call her? Tears pricked the corner of her eye, “I’d like that.”
“Ok. Aces.” Frankie released her lip.
Aces.
She was going to cry, “Here…um…” she swiftly stood up, nearly jamming her knees into the edge of the cart. She quickly turned away, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. It wouldn’t do any good to have Frankie see her break down into a sobbing mess again. “My phone…I’ll give you my number.”
Bianca stumbled over to her purse and scooped it up. Her hands shook as she rooted around inside it, almost scattering all of the contents across the room when she ripped the device free of the bag. “It’s 555-555-8901.” She rolled her eyes at herself, “I should write that down for you.”
“It’s alright. I got it.” Frankie gave a tiny wave with her own phone.
“Ok.” Bianca exhaled heavily. “Good. Great.”
“Yeah.” Frankie slowly stood up, “I should go. Early flights aren’t any fun as it is.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” Frankie had to go. It was getting late. It’s not like she could stay there. Bianca bit the inside of her cheek and pushed back against the images of Frankie crawling into the bed and sharing it with her roared into colorful life in the back of her mind.
“It was, I guess I should say, nice to see you.” Frankie stepped around the cart.
“Yeah.” She bit her cheek harder to keep her hands from reaching out to the other woman.
Frankie moved toward the door, “I’ll call you?”
“Looking forward to it.” Why did this suddenly feel like the awkward end of a first date? No matter the reason, Bianca was ok with that. More than ok. “Have a safe trip.”
“Sure. I will.”
They both stood there.
Neither moved.
Bianca watched Frankie flex her hands before shoving them in her pockets. Her teeth snagged her bottom lip as her gaze darted to the side. What was Frankie thinking about?
Rolling her shoulders back, Frankie returned her gaze to Bianca, “It felt wrong when I was out with those girls.” She lifted her shoulder slightly, “I know I’m into women. But, every girl I’ve been out with…it didn’t feel right being with her.” She shuffled subtly, “Thought you should know that.”
It didn’t feel right. That’s what she meant earlier. Bianca’s mouth wobbled with the threat of happy tear-ridden laughter. Frankie had to know, deep down inside, something. She wasn’t out with all these different girls. She felt something, and she’d told Bianca. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Ok. I’ll see you around.” She offered Bianca a small grin before going to the door.
With a soft click, the door was open and Frankie was gone.
Bianca unsteadily walked to the slowly closing door, placing her hand against the cool wood as it fully shut. Her eyes slipped closed and she spun, pressing her back against it.
Her Frankie was alive.
Author: Fabfan
Fandom: All My Children
Pairing: Bianca/Frankie
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Summary: Can love truly be forgotten? Takes place around 2003.
Part 1
Part 2
Bianca hovered nervously near the edge of the bed, her eyes following Frankie’s every move. The older brunette was stationed by the window, shoulder leaned against the wall as she stared out into the darkened cityscape. Bianca bit her lip. What was Frankie thinking? Did she want to leave? Wondering why she agreed to stay? She hadn’t said a word since stepping away from the door. Not one word. She didn’t even utter a sound. No cough or sigh. Nothing.
It made Bianca want to tear at her hair.
Her nerves were a jumbled mess. She wanted to say something. Plead with Frankie. Yell at her. Explain what little she knew. Ask the other girl what she believed.
She wanted Frankie to look at her.
It should infuriate Bianca. Drive her crazy. Frighten her. Something. Frankie wasn’t speaking to her. She agreed to talk, but nothing was happening. What did it all mean? Why was Frankie there? What was meant to be occurring? There was so much Bianca wanted to say, but how? What? When? If she broke the silence, would Frankie listen? Or would she argue back? Run away?
What would Frankie do if Bianca walked right up to her and kissed her? Took her in her arms and captured her lips in the sweetest kiss two people could share?
Only Frankie could make her want to take charge and feel so tentative at the same time. Just like it was only Frankie who could heal and break her heart in the same day. Yet, with all the confusion and mess of emotions, Bianca still silently thanked god that Frankie was standing there. She could break Bianca’s heart a million times over as long as Bianca could still see her face, hear her voice, feel her touch.
Bianca’s tender brown orbs roamed over the other woman’s form. Each sweep of her eyes went straight to her heart. She’d almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to simply be near Frankie. It felt like a missing piece, a piece of herself thought lost, was quietly put back in place. She was whole. Full.
She missed this feeling.
Why couldn’t things ever be easy with them? Bianca wanted to throw her hands in the air at the ways of the world. Everything always had to be so difficult. Whether it was her mother blasting Frankie for being a slick grifter whose only goal in life was to take advantage of poor innocent Bianca or it was Vanessa’s dirty rotten scheme, their relationship was never simple. Except, it was. Or, it had been. Those few times when they could pretend the world didn’t exist. The entire universe consisted of the two of them curled in bed together or holding hands while watching the waves crash on the cold beach. There were times when life was perfect. When their love was so easy. Being in love was like breathing. Natural.
That was why she wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t. Their love meant more to Bianca than she could ever say. It gave her strength. Hope. Made her believe in true happiness. She once told Leo that true love was nearly impossible to find. That if you could find someone you loved completely and who loved you back, you were lucky. Not many people found that special someone. She had found it with Frankie before Vanessa ripped it all away. But, Frankie was here now. Vanessa didn’t win. And she’d be damned if something as stubborn as Frankie Stone with amnesia would get in the way of them discovering if they really could have a happily ever after.
This damn silence was so heavy, though. Ripe with awkwardness and unspoken emotion. A cloud of uncertainty and tension that could be cut with a knife. It had to be broken. By the looks of it, Frankie wasn’t going to be the one to do it. Bianca learned a few things about her girlfriend when they were together. One of them was that Frankie was brave. Brave and smart and strong. She wasn’t afraid to take on Erica Kane or match wits with the hierarchy of Pine Valley. She was the first one to flirt. In that small hospital room right after the accident, Frankie pressed her lips to her fingers and brushed the tips against Bianca in a tantalizing mirage of a kiss. But, Frankie was also vulnerable. That tough image could fade away when it came to love. Frankie was the girl who broke Bianca’s heart when she wetly stammered she’d never been told she was loved before. That she didn’t know what love was or meant. She did her best to close herself off whenever things got too intense. Frankie may have flirted first, but Bianca was the one to take the lead when it came to nurturing their love. Frankie was willing to follow wherever Bianca led.
Clearing her throat, Bianca nodded at the telephone on the bedside desk, “We should probably order something.”
Frankie didn’t respond, only a shift in her stance showing that she’d heard Bianca.
Sighing to herself, Bianca picked up the phone and dialed room service. She opened the drawer in the desk and pulled out the menu booklet, flipping to the right page, “Do you want to look at what they have?” She held it out toward the other woman.
After a moment, Frankie walked over to her and took the offered book. Bianca bit back her frown when Frankie’s fingers strayed from touching her own atop the dull page. The older girl did it on purpose. Frankie quickly scanned the menu as a voice called out from the other end of the line, “Hello, room service.”
“Yes, hi.” Bianca continued to watch Frankie out of the corner of her eye. “I’d like to order a ceaser salad and a coke. Also, can I get a…” she tilted her head at Frankie. What would Frankie order? Salmon? Filet Mignon? Steak frites? Steak frites was French. Greg took them to a French restaurant. Frankie lived in France. She was probably a big French food eater now.
“Cheeseburger,” Frankie flipped the page, “and a glass of cabernet sauvignon.”
A cheeseburger.
Bianca felt a hitch in her chest. Frankie really liked burgers. It was her go-to order when they went out to eat. “A-Anything else?”
Frankie closed the book, “No, oh. Can they…”
Put the onions on the side, Bianca mentally recited along with her. She relayed the request down the phone, halfheartedly nodding as she was told thirty minutes. She hung up, eyes riveted to Frankie. God, if Frankie had order a coke, it would have been like being at BJs. Frankie always ordered the fried onion strings that were meant to be on top of the burger on the side because she ate them like French fries. All she wanted on her burgers, anyway, was the standard toppings, nothing fancy like fried stuff. Swallowing thickly, Bianca licked her lips, “Cabernet?”
Frankie shrugged, “My uncle’s fault. He had me drink a glass with it once, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”
“Not the merlot?”
“It’s what he poured.” Frankie stuffed her hands in her pockets and turned, pacing back to the window. She added with a mumble, “I like it better, anyway.”
Bianca followed her, “What else do you like?”
Frankie reached the desk and popped her hip onto the edge, “Thought you knew me?”
Bianca smiled softly, a twitch of flirtation seeping in unknowingly, “Maybe I like it when you tell me things.”
Frankie glanced down at the floor, not saying anything.
Damn it. Frankie wanted to shut down, Bianca could feel it. Build up the walls. She wasn’t going to let Frankie do that. “Your uncle seems like a nice man.”
“He is.” Frankie looked up at her. Bianca felt her heart melt at the gentle smile, “He’s a good guy.”
“Your aunt is Lucie?”
“Yeah.”
“Your uncle was saying she works in a boutique?” she carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other.
Frankie nodded, “She knows everything about fashion. Loves to shop.” Her eyes darted down to Bianca’s toned calves for half a second, flickering up the length before snapping away.
She saw that look. Frankie always thought she was sly about it, but Bianca caught her every single time. “Sounds like my mother.” Bianca grinned. If there was one thing about Erica Kane, it was that she loved to shop.
Frankie pulled her hand out of her pocket and picked at the wood of the desk, “She always wants to take me shopping when I’m home or to some fashion show.”
“I bet you enjoy that.” Bianca playfully replied. Frankie at a fashion show? The same girl who balked at wearing something more elegant than a rugged sweatshirt and baggy blue jeans? The thought made Bianca giggle softly.
“Uncle Greg lets me help on some projects when it’s fashion season.” Frankie smirked.
“Ah, so you hide out with your uncle.”
“Alaine Investments needs all the help I can offer.”
“Of course. They would be amiss to turn away your investment guru-ness.” Bianca chuckled.
Frankie’s smirk widened and morphed into a lopsided grin that Bianca remembered well. “My aunt has learned to go on without me.”
Bianca blinked, forcing herself to not read into the grin. The same grin that made Bianca’s heart melt into mush. Frankie could charm the devil with that grin. Maybe even bring about world peace. If she flashed it at Erica, La Kane probably would have welcomed her into the family with open arms instead of a battle of wills. Bianca could remember kissing that grin. It tasted like happiness and freedom.
The lull in the conversation was long enough for Frankie to figure out that she was being open and friendly with a girl she most likely saw as a crazy person. Bianca frowned as she noticed Frankie freeze for a moment before leaning back. Frankie pushed off of the desk and moved to the window, taking up her earlier post there.
“Frankie?” Bianca bent around, attempting to see her eyes. Frankie’s eyes were like a book to her. A window to that cherished soul. If she could only see what Frankie was thinking. Feeling.
The hazels were halfway to blocking that entrance off with practiced cold indifference. A cold indifference that was not nearly as strong as the first time Bianca ever experienced it in Pine Valley.
“Frankie.” Bianca tried again, this time a little firmer. She hated when things got intense and Frankie wouldn’t answer her.
“This isn’t going to be what you want it to be.”
Bianca clenched her hands in the comforter of the bed, “What is it I want it to be?” The same ice-cold chill from the restaurant invaded her blood. This time, though, it battled against the warm resolve of knowing Frankie was there because she wanted to be, had chosen to be, and they were going to work this out no matter what it took.
Frankie folded her arms across her chest, “I’m not going to sit here and act like we know each other.”
“We were talking, Frankie. That’s what people do.” Bianca stood up.
“Two people who are complete strangers?” Frankie scoffed, “We both know why I’m here.”
“Why’s that?”
Frankie finally peered over at her, “To help you understand that I’m not your girlfriend.”
It still stung to hear Frankie refer to herself that way. It nicked at the iron shield Bianca built up to guard her heart after all the rejections, false starts, and heartache her love life produced. Iron that was clearly penetrated with ease by Frankie. She repeated to herself that Frankie didn’t mean it the way everyone else had. Frankie wasn’t not choosing her. She didn’t know. “What about the window?” Bianca pointed at the glass, “You said yourself I know something only your aunt and uncle do. How would I know that if we’d never met before today?”
Frankie shrugged, turning her eyes back to the flashing lights.
Bianca exhaled loudly, “What do I have to do to get you to listen to me?” She closed the distance between them, “What, Frankie? Because you said we could talk. That you’d listen. Yet, when we start doing just that, you close up on me.”
Frankie ducked her head.
Bianca ran a hand through her hair, growling when her fingers bumped into the pins holding it up, “All I want is to talk to you.” She spun on her heel and stormed the few steps to the other end of the room. Frankie and her stubbornness!
“I know.” Frankie’s reply was barely above a whisper.
Bianca still heard her. She stopped, breathing in the quiet admission with a sense of heart-breaking hope and sadness, “Then why can’t you talk to me? I’m not asking you to…to make out with me or go to Fiji on some wild romantic honeymoon. I’m asking you to tell me about yourself. To listen when I say I…” she pressed a hand to her head in frustration, “that I care about you.”
Frankie pressed her lips together in a firm line, eyes glued to the aged carpet and heater beneath the glass. Bianca watched her. Frankie was tense. Muscles coiled tight. Her jaw was locked and arms crossed so tightly she could be cutting off circulation.
“Frankie…”
“I am talking to you.” Frankie cut her off, the words blurting out. By the way Frankie grimaced, it was an unintended statement.
Bianca’s brow knit together, “Frankie?”
Unfolding her arms, Frankie shrugged helplessly, “I’ve been talking to you.”
“What do you mean?”
Rolling her neck, Frankie slid away from the window. She moved to slip her hands in her pockets, but they didn’t obey and went to her face instead, one rubbing her nose with a quiet sniffle while the other gestured along with her words, “I don’t tell people things like this. I don’t hide things, but I…I don’t just bring up how I’m not actually related to Greg or Lucie. Or that I can’t remember anything before a couple years ago. Especially not to a business associate. I don’t talk about things like that.”
“What are you saying?” She didn’t want to guess what Frankie’s words meant. Didn’t want to break her own heart if she was wrong. It was too bad her heart was already reaching out, yearning to hear the words it had so longed for.
“I’m saying…” Frankie took a deep breath, “I keep telling you stuff. I keep opening up to you when I know I shouldn’t.”
“That’s ok, Frankie.” Bianca moved toward her, “It’s ok.”
“Is it?” Frankie raised an eyebrow, “Because I don’t think it is.”
She shouldn’t read into this, but how could she not? Frankie was opening up to her. Did Frankie unconsciously trust her? Her mind somehow recognize that Bianca was someone she could tell things to? Rely on? “Why isn’t it ok to talk to me?”
Frankie chuckled humorlessly, “You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You think I’m your ex-girlfriend.”
“I think,” Bianca chose her words carefully, “that I care about you. That I want to spend time with you.”
“And then what?”
Bianca shrugged, “We’ll see when we get there.”
Frankie rolled her eyes, “And I’m supposed to believe that? You were just saying how you are in love with me and I’m your long lost lover. Now, you want me to think all you want is to spend time with me?” She half shrugged, “And that’s assuming I believe your story about us knowing each other.”
“Yes.” She forced herself to not reach for Frankie. Her fingers itched to latch onto the tanner ones, but she knew it was too much for the moment, “I told you. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I won’t take it back, because it was amazing. I’d never take that back. But, it was too quick. I would never force you to do anything. I’m not like that. But, I do truly believe I’ve met you before. I…god Frankie, I’d never not care about you. That’s not going to happen. But, I can want to get to know you. You’ve spent all this time living a life I know nothing about. I want to know what you’ve done. What makes you happy or sad. What makes you laugh. I want to hear about your Uncle Greg having you drink cabernet sauvignon with a burger for the first time.” Tears pricked her eyes, “I want to tell you about my classes and hear about yours. Do I want you to remember me? Of course. I want nothing more than that. Do I want you to feel about me the same way I feel about you? I would give everything to have that happen. But, I won’t push you. If we spend time together, and you fall in love with me? Remember me? I’ll be happy. If…if you don’t? Then…then I’ll accept it.”
Frankie’s eyes narrowed, “You’re being serious.”
“I am.” Oh god it would hurt, but she was.
Frankie shook her head, thoughts and feelings flashing across her face.
Unable to hold herself back any longer, Bianca grasped her hand, “This is what I want. You are what I want, however I can have you. Let’s get to know each other. Please.” Her eyes searched Frankie’s. Begged her. “Let me…be your friend.”
Frankie’s voice was rough, “A friend?”
Bianca nodded. She would always want more with Frankie. They were never truly just friends, and they never would be. But, if being her friend was how she kept Frankie in her life…then so be it.
Frankie blinked and cleared her throat, “Couldn’t hurt to have a friend with the same accent as me.”
“Do you mean it?” her lips lifted slowly as it sunk in. Frankie was agreeing. And it was so like her to attempt a joke when things were intense.
“Do you?”
“With everything inside of me.”
There was a knock at the door, “Room service!”
The corner of Frankie’s mouth quirked, “Dinner’s here.”
Bianca reluctantly let her hand go and went to the door. She opened it up and let the man inside. He quickly set up the makeshift table. When he went to hand the bill to Bianca, Frankie quickly intercepted it.
“Frankie? What are you doing?”
Frankie ignored her, twirling the pen in her hand. She jotted down something before handing it to the man who left with a tip of his hat.
“What was that?”
“We invited you to dinner.”
“You paid for this?” Bianca’s eyes widened, “You didn’t have to pay for dinner.”
“Still did.” Frankie grabbed the back of the desk chair and dragged it to the end of the cart turned table.
“I could have paid, Frankie. It’d be charged to Enchantment.” She sat down on the bed and picked up her fork.
Frankie popped the lid off the ketchup as she slid into her seat, “I…was rude to you at Jean Georges. I may have no manners at all, but even I know I was being a jerk.”
Bianca nearly dropped her fork.
Well, your mom called it. I’m a stray, and we got no manners at all.
Right. A phone call. I should have called. I’ve got like no manners at all.
Bianca juggled her fork. Frankie said something so similar to that when they first met and again while talking to Opal. Bianca peeked at the other girl. Frankie was dipping the crispy fried onions into a puddle of ketchup, munching on them hungrily. She didn’t even notice. How could she? She didn’t remember. But, Bianca smiled to herself, her Frankie was still in there.
“So, Frankie,” she shook the memory away, “tell me about yourself.”
Frankie picked up her wine glass with a raised eyebrow.
“Ok, tell me about New York.” Bianca amended, easily reading the look. It had been too vague of a question. Too generic. Cliché. “Why are you here?”
Frankie took a tiny sip, “I had a long weekend, and Uncle Greg asked me to help with a project while I had time. I stopped by to meet with some other people, and he got caught up so I met with you, too.”
“Do you like New York?”
“It’s alright. Not my favorite.”
“Not as good as Paris or London?”
Frankie took a bite of her cheeseburger, “Not to me. We have an apartment at The Plaza. That’s where we stay. It’s ok, but I’m not a big fan of Manhattan.”
Frankie wouldn’t be, “Where would you rather be?”
“I don’t mind the Bronx or Brooklyn. I go there sometimes when I’m in the city. I feel more…comfortable there. I usually only stay for a day or two, though.”
Bianca silently chuckled. Frankie would trade Manhattan for the Bronx.
She took another sip of wine, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Bianca did drop her fork this time. It clattered loudly against the plate. “Tomorrow?” Frankie was leaving? No, she couldn’t be. They’d just found each other!
Frankie poked at the onion straws, “Classes.”
Bianca shakily picked up her fork and speared a sprig of lettuce, “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Do, um, you like your classes?” Bianca concentrated on the scattered pieces of lettuce on the plate. She forced herself to ignore the choking blinding pain squeezing her chest.
“Yeah, they’re good.” Frankie ate another onion. This time her munching was decidedly less robust. It was as if Bianca wasn’t the only one affected by the news.
“Good. That’s good.” Bianca nodded solemnly.
“What about you? You said you’re taking classes, right?”
Bianca smiled halfheartedly, “Yeah, at Pine Valley University.” The same school Frankie spoke about going to before the shooting. “I like it. It’s nice being close to my family, and I have friends there so…”she let her sentence trail off with a shrug.
Frankie’s eyes twinkled, “Are you part of a sorority?”
“Frankie!” she giggled, “Please, like I’d go for one of those…” she waved her fork searching for the right word.
“Wild?” Frankie supplied.
“No,” Bianca laughed, “more like…loud. And high school clique-ish. They wouldn’t want me, anyway. I’m not really into the whole greek life thing.” She reached for her soda, “What about you?” Did Frankie rush? Did they even have sororities in England? Bianca couldn’t imagine Frankie sitting around with her sorority sisters chatting about the frat boys and doing each other’s nails.
“They don’t have that at King’s. I’ve seen it in movies, though. Looks like a bunch of slappers. Not really my scene.” Frankie chewed a bite of burger. “I went to a party once that seemed like the movies, and it was boring.”
“Boring? Really?”
“Rather have a drink at the pub.” She smirked, “At least if the company’s bad, you can get a pint and find a friend to give ya cover.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Having a pint or dodging a girl?” Frankie wiped her fingers on her napkin, the playfulness receding from her tone, “I’m not as shy as you think I am.”
Bianca’s hand froze halfway to scooping up a crouton.
Her eyes ticked down to the napkin, and she fiddled with the creases, “Not having a girlfriend doesn’t mean I don’t meet up for drinks.”
“Drinks?” Bianca breathed out. What did that mean? She shouldn’t be jealous. Not after she’d gone on dates with Lena, flirted and kissed the Polish woman. Not when Frankie clearly had amnesia. Still, though, the glimmer of envy and pain bubbled in her belly.
Frankie refolded the napkin, and her eyebrow rose slightly, “You keep saying I kissed you back in the park. I wasn’t too shy to kiss a girl I’d just met.”
Bianca bit her tongue, we hadn’t just met right on the tip.
Sensing the thought, Frankie shrugged, “Or someone I think I’ve just met.” She picked up her wine, “I’ve met up with plenty of girls.”
Bianca swallowed thickly. What was she supposed to do with this? It felt like a weight landed on her chest. “Oh.” She licked her lips, “Your uncle said…”
“That I never bring anyone home.”
The implication struck Bianca like a sledgehammer. Straight to the heart. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t. The question popped in her head, though, and it stayed there. Mocking her. Taunting her until she got the answer, “You said they didn’t interest you.”
“They didn’t.”
She internally cringed as the challenge passed her lips, “Not even enough for one night?”
“It wasn’t always like that. I haven’t gone home with half of London.” Frankie set the glass down, her fingertips going to her forehead. She pressed them right above her brow, “It…”
“It what?”
Frankie exhaled, “didn’t feel…right.”
Feel right? What did that mean? What didn’t feel right?
Frankie shook her head, “Never mind.”
“No, it’s ok. You can tell me things.” Bianca slowly leaned toward her, “We’re talking. Like friends.”
Frankie blinked, “Yeah, I suppose.”
“Frankie,” Bianca took a breath, “it’s ok for you to trust me. You may not totally believe me about our past, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be open with me.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Why would I lie?”
Frankie shifted in her chair, “I am quite the eligible bachelorette.”
A surprised chuckle burst out, “And quite modest about it too.”
“You must know modesty gets you no where in this business.”
“And this is a business date?” the second the words left her mouth, she mentally slapped herself. Date? That was the word she used? Did she want Frankie to run away?
Frankie paused for a moment.
Bianca knew it. She’d screwed it up again. What was wrong with her? When they finally relax and start anything resembling flirting, she goes and puts her foot in her mouth. She was never this bad with anyone else, not even the first time they got together.
Amusement washed over Frankie’s face, “Most of my meetings for Alaine are not in a bedroom with room service.”
Gosh, she loved this girl, “This isn’t Alaine Investment’s strategy?” The tenseness in her shoulders melted away.
“My uncle’s been holding out on the secret to his infinite success.”
“He knew you’d figure it out sooner or later.”
“Or that Aunt Lucie would give him hell if she heard about it.”
Bianca tilted her head, the happiness lighting up her companion’s face whenever Greg or Lucie were mentioned palpable, “You really like them. Your family.”
“Yeah. Of course. They’re my family. They’ve been really good to me.”
“I’m really glad you have them.”
“You’re only saying that because you eavesdropped on my uncle telling me to be nice to you.” Was shot back with a pointed look.
“I’ll have to send him a card for getting you to have dinner with me.” She didn’t care that she eavesdropped. Not when it ended up with Frankie and her talking. Her heart felt like it could explode with joy, as clichéd as it sounded. This simple back and forth chatter, easy and playful, was something she didn’t have with Lena. Or Sarah. This was part of what made them them. The undeniable spark and connection. It was there from the very first moment they talked back in the Pine Valley hospital.
“Don’t I get anything? I’m the one who showed up.”
“I was going to buy you a burger, but you paid before I could.”
Frankie shook her head mockingly, “How dare I buy a girl a meal? My family would be so devastated at my etiquette.”
Etiquette? Frankie? Bianca couldn’t help but snicker to herself. How many times had Frankie ruffled feathers or blatantly thumbed her nose at proper etiquette? What could you expect from a street kid? Teacups with pointed pinky fingers and champagne toasts?
“Memories or imagining another chapter of your story?”
“What?”
“You had that same look on your face at lunch when you saw me and were thinking about your ex.”
“I was thinking about you.”
They stared at each other for a minute. Bianca could see the swirls of color in Frankie’s eyes twist and turn with flashes of thought and questioning.
Frankie leaned her elbows on the table, “You want honesty?”
“Always.” That’s all she ever asked for from Frankie. She held her breath. Where was this leading?
“Honestly, I think you’re kind of nuts. From what I know, your family is on the cover of the tabloids all the time, and this crazy story of yours is perfect for their front pages. I don’t know who in their right mind would ever tell someone they’re their long lost love and kiss them like that. Especially since we’re both girls. I don’t hide who I am, but I’m not paparazzi fodder like some other rich kids, so it’s not exactly a universally known fact I’m into girls…though I did sort of hit on you at the restaurant.”
Bianca opened her mouth to speak, part of her endeared by the pinkish hue tinting Frankie’s cheeks and ears at the last confession.
Frankie gave a subtle shake of her head to hold her off, hands clasping together on the table. “Everything you’ve told me seems like a ploy to either get some press coverage or…or get an in with Alaine Investments…or something. But…you know things. You know about the windows. And, you know how I sleep.” Her knuckles began to turn white from how harshly they were squeezing, “You sound nuts, but I say things to you that are personal, and I think it’s because I feel comfortable around you. I don’t know why I do. I don’t remember you. You don’t look familiar. You don’t sound familiar. You showed up practically out of the blue and told me you love me. You say it so easily. Effortlessly. Like you’ve done it a hundred times, and you’ve believed it every time.”
A pale hand covered Frankie’s, and the firm hold unconsciously relaxed beneath it, “Frankie, I’ve told you. I won’t pressure you or push you, but I do care about you.”
Frankie peered up into impossibly deep brown eyes. Bianca could feel the stare in every nerve-ending, “I think you’re nuts, and your story is crazier than Lewis Carroll and Oliver Wilde combined, but you confuse me. Sometimes it makes sense, but a lot of times it doesn’t. You could be playing me or you could be telling the truth. I don’t know. I don’t know why you thought I was dead from some mugging or if all these people supposedly knew me why none of them showed up. You never came to the hospital. You say I have this whole other life I don’t know about, but just because I can’t remember much doesn’t mean you’re not lying to me. I should stay the hell away from you, but I’m sitting here having dinner with you in your hotel room. Nothing about this makes sense.”
“Frankie,” if she’d known, she would have found whatever hospital Frankie was in and never left her bedside.
“I’ve got an early flight to London tomorrow.” Frankie sucked on her bottom lip thoughtfully before continuing; “Maybe I can call you when I get in?”
Frankie wanted to call her? Tears pricked the corner of her eye, “I’d like that.”
“Ok. Aces.” Frankie released her lip.
Aces.
She was going to cry, “Here…um…” she swiftly stood up, nearly jamming her knees into the edge of the cart. She quickly turned away, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. It wouldn’t do any good to have Frankie see her break down into a sobbing mess again. “My phone…I’ll give you my number.”
Bianca stumbled over to her purse and scooped it up. Her hands shook as she rooted around inside it, almost scattering all of the contents across the room when she ripped the device free of the bag. “It’s 555-555-8901.” She rolled her eyes at herself, “I should write that down for you.”
“It’s alright. I got it.” Frankie gave a tiny wave with her own phone.
“Ok.” Bianca exhaled heavily. “Good. Great.”
“Yeah.” Frankie slowly stood up, “I should go. Early flights aren’t any fun as it is.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” Frankie had to go. It was getting late. It’s not like she could stay there. Bianca bit the inside of her cheek and pushed back against the images of Frankie crawling into the bed and sharing it with her roared into colorful life in the back of her mind.
“It was, I guess I should say, nice to see you.” Frankie stepped around the cart.
“Yeah.” She bit her cheek harder to keep her hands from reaching out to the other woman.
Frankie moved toward the door, “I’ll call you?”
“Looking forward to it.” Why did this suddenly feel like the awkward end of a first date? No matter the reason, Bianca was ok with that. More than ok. “Have a safe trip.”
“Sure. I will.”
They both stood there.
Neither moved.
Bianca watched Frankie flex her hands before shoving them in her pockets. Her teeth snagged her bottom lip as her gaze darted to the side. What was Frankie thinking about?
Rolling her shoulders back, Frankie returned her gaze to Bianca, “It felt wrong when I was out with those girls.” She lifted her shoulder slightly, “I know I’m into women. But, every girl I’ve been out with…it didn’t feel right being with her.” She shuffled subtly, “Thought you should know that.”
It didn’t feel right. That’s what she meant earlier. Bianca’s mouth wobbled with the threat of happy tear-ridden laughter. Frankie had to know, deep down inside, something. She wasn’t out with all these different girls. She felt something, and she’d told Bianca. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Ok. I’ll see you around.” She offered Bianca a small grin before going to the door.
With a soft click, the door was open and Frankie was gone.
Bianca unsteadily walked to the slowly closing door, placing her hand against the cool wood as it fully shut. Her eyes slipped closed and she spun, pressing her back against it.
Her Frankie was alive.