F Is For Frank [Frank/Gerard standalone R]
Part Two of F is for Frank.
Reread part one.
*
Things seemed to get a little better after Halloween. There were no more tantrums about blue blankets and Frank was relieved that he didn’t have to re-buy everything Sofia owned just in a different color.
She was still sleeping in her corner of the living room and Frank was getting more and more worried that she would notice. The boxes were still piled on every surface and the teddy bear still wasn’t found. He’d managed to substitute it with a blue bunny, but he knew it was only a matter of time until something triggered another tantrum and the bear would be once again in demand.
Frank was just relieved that she didn't seem to hate him.
She seemed to like her school and was always talking about Mr. Way and Mr. Urie. Mr. Urie was really funny and always played pretend with her. Last week he was the monster in the moat stopping them from getting to the castle and this week he was the ten-legged blue octopus.
Frank bit his lip when he heard that as his mind immediately shot to Jamia. She’d worked at the local aquarium as the cephalopod expert. He knew she used to take Sofia along all the time and show her the red octopus they had living there. He used to go there with them sometimes and hold Sofia up as she reached into the tank and touched the tentacles.
Frank listened to all her stories about school and let her go on play dates with her friends, although he tried to avoid having other kids over, and when it came the unfortunate time to be his turn, he just suggested going to a park instead of having to explain the sorry state of his apartment.
At school, he dropped her off every morning with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He would talk to Gerard sometimes and ignored the stupid flipping of his stomach whenever Gerard would smile at something he said. He told himself the last thing he needed was to fall for his kid’s preschool teacher. Nothing could be more inappropriate.
He still hadn’t figured out how to work late and still be there for Sofia. He hired a few baby sitters a few nights but it was kind of expensive for a seventeen year old girl to crash on his sofa and play Candyland for a couple hours. But he couldn’t keep working early. For one, he’d rather not get up before the sun and there was never anything to do aside from paper work at nine in the morning. At nights, it was best, when the bar was open and a band was playing, loud music thudding through the bar while people did body shots and cheered drunkenly at the singers.
Frank desperately missed that but having a kid meant early to bed, early to rise, and no alcohol after eight.
Ray said he was trying too hard to be the perfect father and Frank merely snorted. He was nowhere near the perfect father, as was evident in every burned dinner, every off-kilter braid, every backwards dress.
Frank gave up trying to be perfect. He would settle for not-horrible if he could get it.
His only solution to the problem of no baby-sitter and being sick of going to work in the morning was to bring Sofia to the bar. He was sure she wasn’t actually allowed to be there, being seventeen years underage, but he figured the chances of her drinking were slim to none unless Gabe got some stupid idea about giving liquor to a four year old.
Sofia seemed to enjoy the bar, sitting on the tall stool while Pete made up stories of castles and princes and daring deeds. She laughed at his faces and retold the stories to Frank every night on the way home.
“You seem to be doing better,” Ray said as Frank sat at a table close to the bar, watching Sofia giggle at Pete’s monster face. He appeared to be dying on the counter.
Frank shrugged. “It’s a little easier, I guess. I think she likes me.”
Ray laughed and patted him on the back. “She loves you.”
Sighing, Frank propped his hands up and glanced at the band on stage. “Who’s the band tonight?”
Ray rolled his eyes. “You should know. You booked them.”
“Yeah, like three months ago,” Frank scoffed. “I can’t even remember what socks I put on this morning.”
Ray glanced down. “Dude, they’re pink.”
“Shut up,” Frank said then glanced down. “Shit.”
Ray only laughed while Frank pouted.
“It’s not my fault,” he complained. “I can’t find anything in my apartment anymore. It’s like a cardboard box graveyard.”
“Maybe you should move,” Ray suggested seriously.
Frank paused. “Move?”
“Yeah, like to a bigger apartment, or you know, maybe even think about buying a house.”
Frank turned and gave him a sly look. “Is this your subtle way of saying I’m getting a raise?”
Ray laughed and shook his head. “Keep on dreamin’, Frankie.”
Sighing, Frank checked on Sofia quickly before looking at the band again. Four guys were puttering around on-stage, setting up amps and testing mics. The drummer was standing close to the bassist and muttering something in his ear while the other guitarist tapped a mic and tweaked his guitar.
Frank paused a moment, making sure Sofia was in good hands - Pete was now acting out the scene in which the prince and princess were reunited - and then made his way over to the stage to introduce himself.
“Hey,” he greeted the guy with the guitar. “I’m Frank, the manager.”
“Ryan,” the guy said, taking Frank’s hand as he offered it. “That’s Jon and Spencer.” He nodded at the bassist and drummer, who nodded back. “And Alex.” He nodded at the singer who just bobbed his head back.
“Nice to meet you guys,” Frank responded, taking them in. He noticed the way Spencer whispered something in Jon’s ear and Jon’s smile was slow in response, but he turned and whispered something back, his lips close to Spencer’s ear.
Ryan and Alex just ignored them, fiddling with the mics again.
“Just let me know if you need something,” Frank said instead and Ryan looked up.
“Sure, thanks.”
Frank nodded and was about to turn away when Ryan made a noise.
“Whose kid is that? Are little kids allowed to be in bars?”
“She’s mine,” Frank replied, feeling a strange surge of possession at the words. “And, uh, I don’t know if she’s allowed but fuck if I’m gonna kick her out.” He grinned at Ryan, who smiled back.
“It’s just funny,” Ryan said and Frank quirked an eyebrow. “My, uh, my boyfriend works at a preschool.”
Frank just nodded, not really knowing what to say. “Well, okay. I’ll let you guys finish setting up. You go on at seven.”
He turned then and made his way back to the bar, slipping into the seat next to Sofia. She was giggling at something Pete said and Pete winked at Frank.
“So promise me you won’t marry anyone else,” he told Sofia seriously and she just giggled.
“Daddy,” she said, tugging at his tee shirt sleeve. “Me and Pete are engaged.”
“Really?” Frank asked, shooting a look at Pete, who shrugged.
“I can’t help that I’m irresistible.”
“To four year olds,” Bob added as he walked behind Pete with more bottles of beer. Pete just scowled and turned back to Sofia.
“But I have pledged my heart to the lovely Sofia and I will love her forever and ever.”
“If you break my little girl’s heart,” Frank threatened while Sofia fell over herself laughing. “I will hunt you down and they’ll never find your body.”
“On my honor,” Pete promised, holding a hand to his chest.
“Your heart’s on the other side,” Bob pointed out on his way back but Pete didn’t bother changing hands and tactfully ignored him.
Laughing, Frank rolled his eyes. Sofia was having fun and that was all that mattered.
Victoria came over moments later, pushing Pete away to help some of the early customers down at the other end of the bar. Leaning over the counter, she placed a finger on Sofia’s nose.
“You are just as cute as a button,” she said and Sofia blushed a little. “I bet your daddy feels ashamed to walk beside you, you’re so pretty.”
Frank sent Victoria a look but she just smiled sweetly back.
“Daddy walks with me to the park,” Sofia replied.
“And so he should, but I don’t think he’ll ever get a date if someone has to compete with you.”
Sofia grinned, twisting around in her chair. “Daddy doesn’t like girls. Mommy told me so.”
Frank’s eyes widened and Victoria laughed.
“You’ve got a smart one on your hands, Frank. You’re going to have to be careful.”
Frank just laughed, a little embarrassed that Sofia had picked up on that so quickly. He supposed Jamia must have said something to explain why they weren’t married and why Frank lived in a different apartment. The truth must have been the best.
“Okay, Sof, you want to go color in the back?”
Sofia nodded and let Victoria give her a hug and promise to tell her a story later before Frank helped her off the tall stool and led her back to his office. He tried to keep her out of the bar when the band started and the customers started getting rowdy. He’d bought a small television and set it up in the back for her to watch movies.
He settled her in his too-big desk chair with a supply of paper and crayons and lingered in the door, glancing alternately between her and the bar.
It was almost seven and he watched as Ryan finished the set-up. Alex was doing some sort of vocal warm-up and Spencer and Jon were standing close together again. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was going on there, but Frank ignored it.
He watched Ryan, instead, as he said something to Alex, but his attention was distracted a moment later by someone at the foot of the stage. Ryan’s face lit up and he jumped down to whoever it was, greeting them with a kiss and words whispered in the bar.
Frank glanced back at Sofia, who was still coloring intently, and then peered around the tables at Ryan again. He was still talking to whoever it was. Frank shrugged to himself and leant against the doorframe.
Pete and Victoria were both busy at the bar and William weaved between the tables with drinks on a platter. Gabe was at the front door, supposedly watching the people who came in, but Frank had a feeling he was more interested in watching William bend over to put drinks on tables.
The band was nearly done setting up and Frank watched Ryan pull away from whoever it was on the ground and head back towards the stage, but he was stopped and the person stepped into Frank’s view.
Frank blinked as he stared. Thinking quickly, he glanced back at Sofia.
“Hey, Sof, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said and her only response was a short nod, focused on her drawing.
Hesitating a second, he left the door and made his way towards the stage.
Ryan saw him first and smiled. “Hey, Frank,” he greeted him. “This is my boyfriend, Brendon.”
Brendon turned around and Frank saw him freeze as he caught sight of him.
“Mr. Iero,” he said, his voice hushed and Ryan sent him a careful glance.
“Brendon,” Frank said slowly, looking between the two, and Brendon immediately pulled away from Ryan.
“I, um, what are you doing here?” Brendon looked scared and wasn’t looking at Ryan anymore despite Ryan’s questioning gaze.
“I’m the manager here,” Frank replied and Brendon nodded.
“Oh. That’s nice,” he managed. “I was just…”
“I have to get back to work,” Frank said quickly, sensing Brendon’s panic. He pointed uselessly at the bar and turned, leaving before Brendon could have a nervous breakdown. By the time he reached the bar, Brendon was gone and Ryan was climbing on stage.
*
Early mornings were still not Frank’s thing even after two months. He stumbled out of bed, hitting his toe on his dresser as he went to get dressed. By the time he made it out to the living room, he’d hit his toe again on the tub and ran into the sharp corner of the counter.
He snapped at Sofia when she wanted to bring her magic wand to school and almost didn’t feel bad for the way her face scrunched up and how her lip trembled. Surly, he shoved a lunch together, consisting of string cheese, an apple, and a carton of milk.
His side was hurting by the time they made it to school. Sofia was still sniffling quietly but Frank didn’t have the energy to make it better. Everything was just getting to him. He wondered if he was getting sick too. He supposed he should have expected it, what with being around kids all the time now.
So limping slightly, he walked with Sofia to the playground. She didn’t hug him as she left into the playground.
His fingers itched for a cigarette but he settled for leaning against the chain link fence and poking his stomach gingerly where a bruise from the counter was already rising.
He was surprised when Brendon came up to him a few minutes later, wringing his hands and looking altogether nervous as he crept towards him.
“Mr. Iero?” he asked cautiously and Frank forced himself to stand upright, wincing at the bruise and his stubbed toe.
“Hi, Brendon,” he just said, thinking longingly of his bed at home where he could be sleeping away a few more hours before work.
“Can I talk to you?” Brendon asked, looking worried when Frank just sighed and nodded.
“Sure.”
Glancing around, Brendon stepped forward and lowered his voice so as not to be overheard by the parents and other teachers.
“About last night,” he started nervously. “I don’t want you to think that I let my lifestyle choices affect my teaching, because they don’t. I care about the kids and I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. I know there are a lot of stereotypes out there about… me, or, people like me, and I-I don’t want you to think that I am one.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked after a minute. He was starting to feel sick from all the pain in his body and the faster he got out of there, the better.
Brendon lowered his voice even more and cast a careful glance around for eavesdroppers.
“My relationship with Ryan,” he practically whispered. “It doesn’t affect my teaching or interaction with the kids, I assure you.”
Frank blinked at Brendon. “Um, I don’t care,” he said finally. “You can do whatever you want with whoever you want. I’m not gonna judge you.”
Brendon looked shocked and jerked back.
“Oh,” was all he said.
Frank laughed for a second but it hurt, so he stopped. “Seriously, Brendon, you don’t have to worry about me. I won’t tell anyone if you’re worried. No one has to know your secret. Not even Mr. Way.”
“Oh, he already knows,” Brendon said dismissively.
Frank nodded, glancing over to where Gerard was crouched down, talking with a little boy, one from Sofia’s class.
“Good then,” Frank said, for lack of anything else to say. Brendon looked a lot happier now. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’d be a little hypocritical of me anyway.”
Brendon’s eyes lit up but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just smiled and turned back to the playground.
“You know, Sofia really smart,” he said instead. “You should think about having her tested.”
“Like scientific testing?” Frank asked, his mind flashing to all the horror movies he’d ever watched like that.
Brendon laughed. “No, like intelligence testing.”
“Oh.” Frank paused. “Yeah, maybe. Listen, I have to go. I’ll pick her up at three-thirty, okay?”
“Okay,” Brendon agreed happily. “Have a good day!”
Frank just nodded and retreated from the playground, glancing back to find Sofia watching him leave from on top of the play structure.
*
Frank’s injuries - and yes, he called them injuries - seemed to be just the beginning of his problems. It wasn’t long after the bruise had started turning green that Sofia came home from preschool coughing and sneezing. Frank had a mild freak-out session when he thought she might be dying.
The doctor hadn’t seemed a bit shaken when Frank had rushed her there. Turned out it was just a case of the flu and she had to stay home until it was gone.
Unfortunately for Frank, his immune system had never been up to snuff and it wasn’t long before he had a fever too. This was why he’d hated elementary school.
He forced himself to take care of Sofia, though, to bring her glasses upon glasses of water, to read to her until she fell asleep in his lap, to lay on the couch and watch Sleeping Beauty on repeat all day long. He couldn’t be blamed for falling asleep halfway into the first playing.
Victoria brought over soup one day and forced them both to eat it. Frank accused her of being a mother hen, but she just shushed him and made him eat all the broccoli.
So Frank and Sofia stayed home all week, watching TV and eating coco puffs. It was especially bad since Frank had decided to take Ray at his word and had found a brand new apartment. They were supposed to be moving in soon but with the way things were going, Frank would have been happy just to walk out of his own apartment let alone move to a new one.
Her fever stayed up for several days and Frank found himself sitting on her bed as she whimpered into her pillow, clutching the blue bunny close because the bear had yet to be found in the mess.
“I want mommy,” she whimpered and Frank bit his lip.
“Mommy can’t come,” he just said, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. It was still warm. Sighing, he reached for the thermometer and had her open her mouth. “How do you feel?”
Sofia just stared at him blearily, hugging the bunny tight.
“Why can’t mommy come back?”
Frank took the thermometer from her and checked the number; 100. Sighing, he pushed back her hair and helped her up, handing her a glass of cool apple juice. She drank a few gulps but lay back down quickly afterwards.
“She just can’t,” he replied softly, rubbing comforting circles until she fell asleep.
By Friday, Frank was finally feeling better and Sofia seemed almost back to her normal self. They had spent most of the day discussing how Brendon was now Sofia’s fiancé and Pete was old news. Frank hoped Pete wouldn’t be too crushed when he told him.
Sofia fell asleep to yet another round of Sleeping Beauty and Frank was glad when there was a knock at the door and he could move Sofia to her own bed and wade through the boxes to the door. There were even more now that they were moving and all of Frank’s things had to be put in boxes too.
At the door, Frank pulled it open against protesting boxes and was surprised to find Gerard on his doorstep.
“Mr. Way,” he said, taken aback.
“Hi, Frank,” Gerard greeted him. He had a smile on his face and packet in his hand.
“Um,” Frank said, grasping for words and stubbornly telling his stomach to stop jumping at the fact that Gerard was standing in his doorway. “Come in, uh, yeah. What are you doing here?” He stepped back from the door and realized his apartment was a complete mess.
Gerard picked his way through the boxes, a curious expression on his face.
“Uh, sorry about the mess,” Frank apologized, closing the door behind him. “We’re kind of in the middle of moving. Or well, Sofia’s boxes have been here since September, but now I have boxes and it just kind of exploded.”
Gerard just smiled slightly and found his way to the couch. He stopped, though, as he caught sight of Sofia sleeping curled up on her bed in the corner.
Frank winced. “Yeah, that’s kinda why we’re moving.”
Gerard nodded slowly and then turned to him. “Well, I just came by to see how you were doing.”
“Really?” Frank was surprised. He didn’t think preschool teachers did that.
Gerard shrugged. “And to bring you this. You haven’t been there all week and there’s a field trip on Monday. Didn’t want Sofia to miss it.” He held out the packet and Frank blinked.
“Oh, right,” he said, taking the package and sliding it open.
“It’s to the aquarium,” Gerard said and Frank paused.
“Oh,” he said again, but it was a little sadder this time.
“Something wrong?” Gerard asked and Frank just shook his head.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“No, what?” Gerard smiled at him nicely and Frank felt like that day Gerard had asked him up to his room. He could feel the words welling up inside him and they were spilling out before he could stop.
“It’s just, Jamia used to work at the aquarium and I don’t know how Sofia will take it. We haven’t been back since…” He shrugged. “I just don’t want her to be upset. You know, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if it had been the other way around. I bet Jamia wouldn’t have had so many problems.”
“She sounds like a great woman,” Gerard offered and Frank sighed, coming over and sinking onto the couch. Gerard sat down carefully beside him.
“She was.” Frank sighed. “I don’t know how she ever put up with me, or how Sofia does it.”
Gerard laughed and glanced over at the little girl curled up on the bed, her dark hair spread out on the pillow. “I’m sure it’s no trouble.”
Frank shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like such a failure sometimes. I mean, I still can’t fucking make macaroni and cheese and all it is is noodles and cheese sauce.”
“Have you tried following the instructions on the box?”
Frank looked over, ready to argue with him but found him smiling and stopped. “Yeah,” he said instead. “But I still can’t do it. I guess we’ll just have to live on takeout forever and we’ll both get fat and she’ll end up taking care of me in my old age.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Gerard agreed and Frank sighed.
“How do you do it?” he asked suddenly and Gerard looked confused. “I mean, you have fifteen different kids every year and they all end up loving you. How does that happen?”
Gerard just shrugged. “I don’t know. I listen to them, I play with them. I try to teach them how to write their names.”
Frank nodded slowly. “So if I teach her to spell her name, she’ll love me?”
Gerard gave him a knowing look. “I’m sure already does, Frank.”
“But she cries and asks for things she knows I can’t give her. She asks for her mom when she’s upset and when she was sick this week. It’s like I’m not good enough.”
Gerard shook his head. “She’s a young kid. She just wants what’s familiar. Give it a year and she’ll only ask for you when she’s sick, trust me.”
Frank glanced at him and wasn’t exactly convinced. “You think so?”
Gerard nodded. “Yeah, pretty sure.”
Frank pulled his lip ring into his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue. Gerard just smiled softly at him and tilted his head back. Frank caught another flash of glitter in his hair and didn’t stop himself as he reached out for it.
“What?” Gerard asked as Frank brought his hand back, realizing what he’d done.
“Oh, it’s just, you always have glitter in your hair,” he said, then glancing at Gerard’s hands, added, “and paint. There’s always paint somewhere on you.”
Gerard touched his hair and examined his fingers as they came back with a light dusting of blue glitter on them.
“I swear I don’t know about the glitter. That stuff gets everywhere whenever I open a bottle. As for the paint, well, I paint a lot at home.”
“You mean like actual paint?” Frank asked interestedly.
Gerard paused. “I suppose you could count as finger paint, but I don’t think my agent would market it that way.”
“You have an agent,” Frank said, impressed. He stared at Gerard, surprised to be learning so much about his daughter’s teacher.
Gerard nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes I sell stuff. Not a lot, obviously, since I have a pretty regular day job.”
“Wow, I wish I could do something like that,” Frank said earnestly.
“Why can’t you?”
“Well, I can’t draw for shit,” he admitted, laughing slightly. “But I just feel like there’s something else out there other than managing a bar.”
“Oh, yeah, Bren told me about that,” Gerard said.
“He did, did he?” Frank paused, biting his lip again and sitting up slightly.
Gerard sat up too, closer than before, and nodded. “Yeah, he said it’s the place down on sixth and Harper. He said his friend’s band was playing there.”
“Uh, yeah,” Frank said after a minute. “That’s the one. I work there almost every day.”
“I’ve never been there,” Gerard admitted. “But I don’t really drink much.”
Frank shrugged. “I used to drink more but I feel like I shouldn’t now, you know?”
“Like you shouldn’t smoke?”
Frank grimaced. “I’m trying to quit, really. I know it’s bad for Sofia and, well, me, but it’s harder than it looks.”
Gerard shrugged. “I know. I used to smoke a lot.”
“So I’m not alone,” Frank joked, smiling at Gerard.
Gerard nodded and then paused, his eyes taking in Frank’s arms. He was only wearing a tee shirt today although it was definitely not tee shirt weather outside.
“Wow, you do have a lot of tattoos,” he said finally, taking in Frank’s arms.
“There’s more,” Frank said, pulling up his shirt and showing Gerard his torso and the bluebirds there.
Gerard kind of stared for a minute before blinking and bringing his eyes back to Frank’s face. “I can see where you get weird looks from the other parents.”
Frank shrugged, letting his shirt drop, and glancing over at Sofia’s sleeping back again. “I don’t really give a fuck what they think about me. I just don’t want Sofia to get hurt.”
Gerard nodded knowingly, a small smile on the corner of his mouth. “See, you’ve already got the instincts.”
“Instincts?”
“Of a father.”
Frank paused, thinking. “Maybe,” he said finally, smiling a little and looking back at Gerard, who didn’t say anything.
There was a pause and then Frank inclined forward, intending to say something, but the words never came, and Gerard wasn’t moving back. Inches from Gerard, he opened his mouth again but nothing came out and instead, he swallowed and let his mouth close the last little distance.
In the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He could feel Gerard’s lips against his own, a little chapped and not moving but not pulling away either. His lip ring was pressed to Gerard’s skin and he knew he should be pulling away.
But it had been so long. He hadn’t even thought about sex since Jamia had died. Hell, he’d hardly been thinking about it before, but it all seemed to come rushing back when he remained with his lips pressed against Gerard’s.
There was nothing much in the kiss aside from lips and elevated breathing when Frank finally pulled back and stared.
“Oh my God,” he muttered. “I’m, I’m sorry.” He stood quickly, struggling through the boxes to the clear path by the kitchen that led somewhat to the front door. His heart was pounding and his mind was screaming that hitting on his child’s preschool teacher was a horrible idea.
Gerard rose from the couch, looking like he wanted to say something, but Frank was already halfway to the door.
“You should go, um. Thanks for bringing the forms,” he said awkwardly, wanting to get Gerard out of there as quickly as possible and forget what a huge fool he was making out of himself.
Gerard made it out from in front of the couch and paused by Frank at the door. Frank didn’t look at him as he stopped.
“I, uh, I’ll see you on Monday,” was all he said, though, and Frank let out a shaky breath once the door was closed and slid down against it.
*
Frank had never dreaded a Monday more in his life.
He talked to Sofia and explained about the field trip. She hadn’t immediately broken down into tears, so he assumed it was safe to let her go. He signed the permission slip and took extra care to pack her lunchbox with her favorite foods (mostly things he didn’t have to put together - yes, peanut butter and jelly was complicated).
“Daddy, are we going in?” she asked as they stood out in the parking lot and Frank smoked his usual morning cigarette. “Brendon is waiting.”
Frank looked up at the playground where Brendon as busy pretending to be a monkey as he climbed all over the bars. He would have said he didn’t think Brendon noticed she was gone, but he’d learned the hard way that kids were sensitive.
Instead, he just flicked away his cigarette and took a deep breath, grabbing her hand (more for his sake than hers) and walking to the playground. The weather been in a surprising dry spell for the last few weeks but Frank didn’t expect it to last.
As soon as they reached it, Brendon caught sight of them.
“Sofiaaaa!” he called and her whole face lit up as she ran over to him. He dropped from the bars and took her face in his hands, inspecting her carefully. “You’re back. Are you all better now? No more bad flu bugs crawling around your stomach?”
Sofia shook her head defiantly. “Daddy made them all go away,” she announced proudly. “He even caught them.”
Brendon’s eyes widened comically and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Did you get them all? Wouldn’t want your daddy sick.”
“We got them all,” Sofia assured him seriously and Brendon grinned.
“Awesome! Hey, look, there’s Sara and Mackenzie. They’ve been asking about you!”
Sofia caught sight of her friends and hurried away while Brendon just waved to Frank and trotted off to play with the boys on the other side.
Frank lingered by the fence, knowing he could just escape now and go home to catch a few more hours of sleep before he had to get to work. But he still had the forms and Greta wasn’t out in the yard. So, braving his fears of fucking up his daughter’s education with his own motives, he went in search of Gerard. He found him on the other side, coaching a little boy on the rules of the playground.
“And what aren’t we supposed to do, Bobby?” he asked seriously and the boy sort of pouted and kicked the ground.
“Throw the balls at people,” he muttered after a minute.
“Do you know why?” Gerard continued, holding the boy’s arms firmly to keep him from turning away completely. It was obvious the boy knew he was in trouble.
“’Cause it hurts,” the boy replied, his response mumbled and reluctant.
“That’s right,” Gerard agreed. “Now, I want you to go apologize to Tori, okay?”
“Okay,” Bobby mumbled, running away the minute his arms were released.
Sighing, Gerard dusted off his jeans and rose, freezing slightly as he caught sight of Frank.
“Mr. Way,” Frank said quickly before Gerard could speak. “I, um, brought the forms for the field trip and I talked to Sofia. I think she’ll be fine.”
He held out the papers and ignored the nervous shaking of his hand. Gerard didn’t say anything but reached forward and took the papers slowly.
“I-” Frank bit his lip and tried to think of what to say but short of apologizing for kissing him and then kicking him out, he couldn’t think of anything.
Gerard was looking at the forms and not him. Finally, he looked up and though he wasn’t smiling, he didn’t look angry.
“You’ll be here to pick her up at three-thirty?”
“On the dot,” Frank said immediately.
Gerard just nodded. “Okay, great.”
“Right.” Frank nodded and started feeling stupid again. An awkward pause ensued and Frank couldn’t think of what to say, so he finally swung his hands and turned, shoving them in his pockets. He only stopped to give Sofia a hug before he shuffled back to his car and drove away, forcing himself not to look back.
*
The worst thing about all of this was that if it had been happening while Jamia was alive, she would have been the first one he would have gone whining to.
As it was, he only had Ray and Bob now. He also had Pete and Gabe, but Pete’s advice was kind of stalker-ish and Gabe’s was just disturbing. Victoria tisked at him for letting it get out of hand and Frank wasn’t in the mood to hear what William might have offered.
So instead, he barricaded himself in his office and buried himself in paperwork for the whole morning. He found himself staring at a drawing Sofia had done, though. It was stuck to the filing cabinet across from his desk, hanging crooked with its piece of tape and threatening to fall off completely.
The white piece of printer paper was covered with a blue scribble that Sofia insisted was a ten-legged octopus. Frank wondered if Jamia had ever explained that octopi only had eight legs, hence the “oct” part of the name.
Staring at the drawing, he felt as though he should give it a name. Maybe he would ask Sofia later to help him pick out a name.
He didn’t answer the door when a knock permeated the wood. Instead, he just tore his gaze from the octopus and shuffled the papers in front of him.
The door opened moments later despite his lack of response. Ray was there, his curly hair preceding him inside. He shut the door behind him and paused just inside.
“Frank,” he said when Frank didn’t look up at him, but shoved a paper aside for later.
“Huh?” Frank asked, staring unseeingly at the invoice in front of him.
“Frank, what did they do to you?”
Frank frowned. Just because he was holed up in his office didn’t mean anything had happened. “Nothing.”
“Frank.” Ray’s tone was knowing and Frank groaned because he knew he’d spill it sooner or later.
“Okay, so I asked for their advice and not a one was any help,” he whined. Sometimes he couldn’t believe he had a kid when he sounded so much like one himself. Jamia must have been high when she asked him to be the father.
“What do you need help with?” Ray asked, pulling up the other chair and flopping down in it.
Frank hesitated, knowing how stupid it was going to sound. It already had sounded stupid when he’d told Pete.
“I kind of kissed my daughter’s preschool teacher.”
He didn’t expect Ray to yell at him but he didn’t expect to receive complete silence either.
“Ray?” he asked after a minute.
“You get yourself into the strangest situations,” Ray said finally.
Frank stared. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”
“What more do you want?”
“What am I supposed to do?” Frank asked plaintively. “He’s her teacher and it’s wrong!”
“Why is it wrong?” Ray asked and Frank spluttered to find words.
“Because,” he said and nothing more came.
“Because?”
“I don’t know!” Frank cried. “You’re just not supposed to do that with preschool teachers, especially guy preschool teachers. Those are a rarity in and of themselves. Kissing one and then kicking him out of your apartment isn’t the best idea, you know?”
Ray paused. “You kicked him out?”
“Well, I asked him to leave.”
“Why?”
“Ray!” Frank sighed hopelessly. “Because my life is fucked up enough with Jamia dying and me trying to be a good father to a kid I wasn’t even supposed to see more than twice a week. I don’t know how to handle all this. It’s too fucking much at the same time.”
He let his head fall down onto his desk and was surprised when he felt Ray’s arm on his back, comforting.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he mumbled into his desk.
“You’ll figure it out,” Ray said reassuringly. “You always do.”
“Can’t I do it faster this time?” Frank muttered hopelessly.
Ray smiled, patting his shoulder. “Just take whatever time it needs.”
Frank only groaned into the desk and didn’t lift his head for a long time after.
*
Sofia was unusually quiet when Frank picked her up from school and fussed about her shoes when he tried to retie the laces. He talked through the car ride home although he wasn’t sure if she was even listening. He was barely listening, just kept talking for fear that if he stopped, something bad would happen.
At home, they traversed the box wasteland and Frank dug out some sort of snack from his empty cupboards. He still hadn’t learned how to grocery shop the right way. He wasn’t sure there even was a right way, but some people always seemed to have food in their cupboards and he didn’t.
Sofia ate the apple pieces slowly and Frank lingered back nervously. He remembered when Jamia used to get silent it always meant she was upset.
“So how was the field trip?” he asked finally. “Did you get to see Stuart?” Stuart was the red octopus that visitors could pet.
Sofia just ate her apple and looked at Frank. “I want cookies.”
“We don’t have any,” Frank replied. “Besides, you shouldn’t have so much sugar.” He wasn’t sure where that came from but it might have been a throwback lesson from his own childhood.
Sofia threw down the apple piece and Frank could see it coming.
“I want a cookie!” she yelled, her face already scrunching up and he wondered if she did this on purpose.
“No,” he repeated. “Eat your apple.”
Sofia’s lip trembled and her little hands curled into fists which she beat against the counter. “I want a cookie!” she cried. “Mommy gave me cookies!”
Frank cringed as her immediate response was to drag her mother into it.
“Mommy’s not here,” he just said and Sofia hit the counter hard, angry tears leaking down her face.
“Where is she?” she yelled. “I want mommy! I want mommy!”
“Sofia,” he just said, trying not to get upset, not to let her words affect him. She didn’t know what they meant to him. “You need to calm down.”
“Mommy!” she screamed, choking on her own tears and sliding off the stool on the linoleum. “I want my mommy!”
Frank reached down and pulled her off the floor, but she fell limp in his arms, kicking against his grip. Screaming and kicking, she struggled as he picked her up and carried her over to her bed.
“Mommy’s not here,” he said again, firmly, and set her down on her bed where she immediately kicked it hard and screamed into the pillow. “I’m here.”
“I don’t want you!” Sofia screamed, sobbing into her bed, losing control of herself. “I want mommy!”
“Well, you’re stuck with me,” Frank just said, rising from the bed and leaving her crying into her pillow.
Shutting his bedroom door, he brought a hand to his face and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Fuck,” he cursed loudly, kicking the door. He didn’t know how to deal with this.
Catching sight of the picture on the dresser, he snatched it off and sunk onto his bed, staring at Jamia’s smiling face.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked the picture. “How could you leave me with her? You know I can barely take care of myself let alone a little girl. She’s just like you, you know? Same strange temper that I could never figure out. And she wants everything to be like it was before but I can’t make it like that. Fuck, Jamia, why did you ask me to be the father? Weren’t there a million other people out there who could have done this? I’m not the only gay guy in the world.” Sighing, he hung his head and shook his head. “I’m gonna fuck this kid up good if we’re not careful,” he mumbled. “And I wouldn’t even have to try.”
Jamia’s picture just smiled up at him, brown eyes sparkling. Sighing again, he rose and placed it back on the dresser and crept to the door.
In the living room, Sofia was still crying on her bed, but it was quieter now and Frank snuck over to her, feeling bad as he sat down next to her.
“Sof, sweetie,” he murmured quietly and she just sniffed, her body still shaking in silent tears. Gathering her up, he pulled her to him and hugged her tightly. She clung to him, sniffling against his shirt. Stroking back her hair, he rocked back and forth with her a little. “I know you’re sad that mommy’s not here, but I’m still here and I love you.”
Sofia sniffled into his shirt again, and her response was choked through tears. “I-I want mommy.”
“I know,” he whispered, petting down her messy hair. “Me too.” He took a breath and pushed away the tears gathering in his eyes. “But hey, we’re gonna be in a new apartment soon, and you’ll have your own room and we can decorate it any way you want.”
Sofia wiped at her eyes with her palms and looked up. “Blue?”
“Blue,” Frank agreed and held her close, biting his lip to stop the tears that wanted to fall as he cradled his little girl against him.
*
The situation with Gerard didn’t get any better over the next week. Frank mostly tried to avoid him when he dropped Sofia off at school, only stopping to chat with Brendon if he was caught before he could escape to his car. Gerard didn’t say anything for which Frank was glad. He wasn’t sure he could take anything more at the moment.
They were in the process of actually moving. Half of the boxes were in the new apartment, although that really only made Frank’s apartment half as crowded, back to what it had been in September when he had packed all of Sofia’s things and stuffed them in his living room.
On Saturday, he and Sofia made the last of the trips, and by the time all the boxes had been moved from Frank’s car up the stairs and to the second floor apartment, his arms felt like they were going to fall off. It didn’t help that rain had started shortly after lunchtime and a good portion of the boxes were now wet as they sat in the new living room.
Frank and Sofia lay on the floor, Frank prompting her to count the boxes that towered around them.
“…Six, eight, nine, ten,” she counted slowly, missing a few numbers. She stopped, though. “What comes after ten?”
“Eleven,” Frank answered, too tired to sit up to count the boxes with her. He could hear the patter of the rain outside the window and wasn’t looking forward to going back out to his car to go back to the apartment for their last night.
“Eleven,” Sofia continued, pointing at the same box as before. “Seventeen, twenty-five, four.”
Frank just smiled to himself and closed his eyes. The electricity hadn’t been turned on in the apartment yet so there were no lights and everything was just grey from the sky outside. Sofia sat beside him, continuing her counting until she got bored and pushed at his stomach.
“Daddy, wake up.”
“No,” Frank replied, turning away from her and grinning as he heard her tiny huff, so like her mother.
“Daddy!” she cried, climbing over his side and reaching for his stomach.
He shrieked, curling away from her hands and laughing as she tickled him.
“Ah, no, Sof! Stop!” he cried helplessly as she continued to tickle him mercilessly. “Stop! Stop! You can’t tickle me! I’m the tickle monster!”
He rolled over and pinned her down, tickling her stomach until she was shrieking in laughter and trying to squirm away.
Finally, he stopped and they both let out a sigh as Frank lay back down on the carpet.
“What do you say we go out for pizza tonight?” he asked after a minute.
“You’re not gonna make it, are you?” Sofia asked and Frank frowned.
“Why?”
“You burn everything.”
Frank just laughed and sighed at the ceiling. “No, I won’t make it.”
“Okay,” Sofia just agreed. “I like pizza.”
Frank nodded and settled back to watch the dimming light on the ceiling.
*
Frank felt out of place when he walked into the secretary’s office and Keltie was there, talking on the phone with a parent.
“Yes, Mr. James, our school is fully equipped with an art room and we have a dance teacher who comes once a week to work with the kids. All the teachers are certified and completely capable. Would you like to set up a day to come in and take a look around? We’d be happy to give you a tour. Yes, Thursday sounds great. All right, we’ll see you then.”
She hung up, making a note in her planner book, and then glanced up at Frank.
“Good morning, Mr. Iero,” she greeted him, a smile already on her face. “What can I help you with?”
“I need to, uh, change the address on Sofia’s stuff. We moved.”
“Okay,” Keltie said, wheeling her chair to a file cabinet and ruffling through manila folders until she found Frank’s and pulled it out.
Frank waited, pulling on his lip ring as she shuffled through some more papers, looking for the form. As he stood there, the other door off the office opened and Greta emerged.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Iero,” she said cheerfully when she saw him. “How are you?”
He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “I’m doing all right.”
Greta smiled. “That’s wonderful. You know, I think Sofia’s doing very well.”
Frank nodded a little. He didn’t know why he felt so strange around the adults in this place. They were all just so happy.
“I think she likes it here.”
“Yes, Mr. Way says she’s a very bright child,” Greta continued as Keltie found the forms and plucked out a pen.
“If you could just fill those out,” Keltie said, handing him the paper and the pen.
Greta glanced over at the form and paused. “You moved?”
“Um, yeah,” Frank muttered, bending over the desk and filling in his name. “My apartment was a little small. I wasn’t exactly expecting to have a kid living there, you know?”
Greta nodded understandingly and was silent as he filled out the rest of the form. Keltie took it back with a smile and turned to her computer.
“How are things going otherwise?” Greta asked when he stuffed his hands back in his jacket.
He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. It’s just hard… to figure everything out.”
Greta nodded again and Frank wasn’t sure if she understood or if she was just doing it to make him feel better. Though from the way her eyes sparkled and she smiled, he thought maybe she did know. She was the director of a preschool after all. She probably saw all sorts of families come through.
“Gerard,” she said suddenly and Frank’s head shot up. Gerard was standing in the doorway with a little boy who looked a little green.
“We need to call Joey’s parents,” he just said, his gaze flicking to Frank for just a minute before leading the kid inside. “I think he caught the flu that was going around.”
“Oh dear,” Greta said, taking Joey’s hand and taking him back to her office where there was a little bed while Keltie immediately looked up his contact information.
Frank stood awkwardly in the office with Gerard while Keltie talked on the phone.
“So,” Frank said after a minute of playing with his lip ring nervously. “Greta said Sofia likes your class.”
Gerard nodded slowly and then took a step carefully out of the office and Frank followed him into the hall.
“She’s doing really well,” he said once they were out of view of Keltie at the desk. “She likes coloring and playing with the blocks.”
“Yeah, I got her one of those giant boxes of crayons,” Frank muttered. “She had a field day. Almost had to repaint the walls to get my deposit back.”
“You moved?”
Frank gave a half-shrug, chancing a glance at Gerard. He was just watching him carefully, green glitter this time smeared across his cheek and in his hair.
“Yeah. It was too small. I couldn’t even find my socks.”
Gerard smiled and Frank bit his lip. A part of him wanted to tell Gerard that he was stupid and would he please forgive him and maybe agree to dinner sometime? But another part of him reminded him that the last thing he needed right now was a relationship with Sofia’s teacher.
“Listen, Mr. Way,” he said finally, feeling like he should at least say something to apologize for his actions. “I’m s-sorry about the other day. I just wasn’t… I don’t think getting involved with someone is the best idea for me right now and I don’t want things to be weird for Sofia. She’s just barely adjusting to having me around all the time. I, it’s not you. Really. You’re, you’re pretty awesome. So, like, I don’t want you to think badly of me,” he finished lamely. He wasn’t sure if that had conveyed any of what he wanted to say, but Gerard just paused.
“I understand,” he said finally.
“You do?”
Gerard nodded. “Of course. You know, they say that after things like deaths, there shouldn’t be any large upheavals in a person’s life.”
“Think it’s too late for that,” Frank muttered to the tile floor.
Gerard just gave Frank a sort of sad smile. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”
Frank just nodded and tried to quirk a smile but it fell flat. “Good, yeah, I didn’t want it to be weird.”
Gerard shook his head. “No, it won’t be, Frank. I wouldn’t do that to Sofia.”
“Right,” he just muttered, glancing up and pulling the ring into his mouth again. “Right.”
Part Three.