Sisterhood Challenge by Tara Keezer (2)
Title: Some Kind of Intervention
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13 for Language
Notes: Frannie, Ray K. and Fraser kill two plot bunnies with one stone -- I feel so efficient somehow; 1,250 words or so, post-series.
February 22, 2001
Dear Frannie --
I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you the other night. I know I probably freaked you out and stuff with the whole crying thing, and I’m sorry about that. It’s just that things have been kind of tense up here, and no, that don’t mean you got to come up here and stage some kind of intervention.
Ben’s having a rough time right now, but underneath it all, me and him are good. We’ll get through this, I promise.
Say hi to Ma for me, would you? Tell her I miss her lasagna.
Love,
Ray
~*~*~
March 5, 2001
Dear Ray --
You are so full of shit, it’s a wonder Canada hasn’t declared you some kind of nature’s disaster. Right now, the only thing keeping me from going up there and giving Fraser a piece of my mind is that Ma refuses to stay with the kids if I do. She says all couples fight, and I shouldn’t stick my nose in.
Yeah, right. Just like Aunt Teresa and Uncle Vincenzo never stuck their nose in when Pop was on a tear.
I know you love him, but you don’t have to put up with his crap -- and I honestly never thought I’d say anything like that about Fraser, ever. But it’s true, Ray, you don’t. Just remember, you always have a home here in Chicago when you need it. Ma misses you, and so do Maria and Tony.
Love,
Frannie
~*~*~
March 30, 2001
Hey, Frannie --
I got your letter a week ago, but things -- shit. Things suck, Frannie. They suck beyond the telling of it, and the hell of it is, I can’t even tell you why, because Ben made me promise not to.
And no, that doesn’t mean what you think it means, so get it out of your head right now that he’s abusing me or something. I don’t care how fucked up Ben gets, he’ll never get *that* fucked up, no matter what. You just got to trust me that there’s a reason he’s acting like an asshole lately.
Thanks for letting me know I got a home in Chicago. Makes me feel like you’re still my sister, you know? But as much as I appreciate the offer, I won’t be taking you up on it, not until Ben can come along with me for a visit.
Love,
Ray
P.S. How’s the style pig doing? Has The Stella wised up about him yet?
~*~*~
April 3, 2001
Ray, you are a complete asshole.
And I love you, so thanks for the roses. How did you find out I’m expecting again?
Love,
Frannie
~*~*~
April 16, 2001
Dear Ray --
Is your computer going to be fixed any time soon? Letters are nice and all, but e-mail’s a lot faster, and I get the feeling I should be talking fast to you right now.
I tried calling you on Saturday, when I got your last letter, but Fraser answered the phone, and I just couldn’t stand to hear his voice, not after reading what you wrote. You keep saying he’s not abusing you, but you got to understand that when I hear that from you, it’s like hearing Ma talk to the neighbors when I was a kid, after Pop exploded.
You don’t sound good, Ray, not at all. Please come home to Chicago, just for a little while. Your folks will be up from Arizona in a few weeks, and I know your Mom and Pop would love to see you.
Love, Frannie
~*~*~
TO: franniev@yahoo.com
FR: srkowalski@yahoo.ca
DT: May 31, 2001 9:31:05 AM PDT
SUBJECT: You tattled on me to my ex-wife!?!?!
Jeez, Frannie -- I thought you loved me. How the hell could you do this to me? You have any idea what kind of hell you put us through when you sicced Stella on Ben?
I just -- I can’t believe you went and did this to me -- to Ben!
That’s not buddies.
~*~*~
TO: srkowalski@yahoo.ca
FR: franniev@yahoo.com
DT: May 31, 2001 12:16:43 PM CDT
SUBJECT: RE: You tattled on me to my ex-wife!?!?!
What did you expect me to do? Ignore this? It may not be buddies, Ray, but it’s sure as hell what a sister would do.
Just the fact that Fraser went ballistic tells me I did the right thing. You may not forgive me anytime soon, if ever, but I’m not going to sit around and watch you shrivel up a little more each year the way Ma did right up until Pop died.
I’m *not* sorry I convinced her to go up there, so don’t hold your breath waiting for me to apologize.
~*~*~
TO: franniev@yahoo.com
FR: srkowalski@yahoo.ca
DT: May 31, 2001 9:31:05 AM PDT
SUBJECT: RE: You tattled on me to my ex-wife!?!?!
Okay, look, I finally got Ben to agree to let me tell you what’s going on, and that’s only because he knows Stella’s going to tell Vecchio what happened as soon as she gets home.
Last December, Ben was out on patrol, strictly routine, and Dief was riding with him that day, thank God. We still don’t know what exactly happened, because Ben’s the most careful driver up here, but he ended up flipping his Jeep down a pretty steep embankment. Dief jumped clear easy enough, but Ben was strapped in for most of the ride down.
*Most* of the ride down. He was thrown out before the Jeep hit the bottom, and when it did, it landed on his left leg. Dief was the hero that day. Once he figured out Ben was trapped, he shot off to look for help. Problem was it took almost eight hours to get there, and by that time, Ben’s leg had been without blood for too long.
Fuck, I hate this! I hate remembering it, and I hate having to talk about it. No wonder Ben didn’t want to tell anyone.
They had to amputate, Frannie, just above his knee. Doctors said the cold that day probably saved his life in a weird, fucked up way, because he didn’t bleed to death where he could have, if the weather had been warmer. When Ben woke up two days later, he didn’t believe he’d lost his leg. Said he could still feel it, and never mind that he couldn’t see it. Once they dicked around with his medications a little, he finally bought a clue and paid attention.
He had -- he *has* a hard time with it. This is -- hell, you remember what he’s like. You can figure out why he’s got such a short fuse lately, right?
Thing is, he’s getting better, a little better every day. He’s doing great in PT, and as soon as the swelling goes down, they’ll be able to fit him with a really good prosthetic. He’s thinking about getting one that’ll let him run, maybe even snowshoe.
Look, I got to go. We’re taking Stella out for dinner tonight, and I still have to take a shower. I’ll give you a call tomorrow night, after I take her to the airport, and we’ll talk some more then.
Ray
P.S. Ben just told me to say he’s sorry for all the concern he caused, and he’s sorry he didn’t let me tell you sooner. He said he’ll write you a letter later this week, if you’re still talking to him. Maybe it’s a good thing you sent Stella up here after all. For the first time in six months, I feel like I got him back. Love you, Sis.
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13 for Language
Notes: Frannie, Ray K. and Fraser kill two plot bunnies with one stone -- I feel so efficient somehow; 1,250 words or so, post-series.
February 22, 2001
Dear Frannie --
I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you the other night. I know I probably freaked you out and stuff with the whole crying thing, and I’m sorry about that. It’s just that things have been kind of tense up here, and no, that don’t mean you got to come up here and stage some kind of intervention.
Ben’s having a rough time right now, but underneath it all, me and him are good. We’ll get through this, I promise.
Say hi to Ma for me, would you? Tell her I miss her lasagna.
Love,
Ray
~*~*~
March 5, 2001
Dear Ray --
You are so full of shit, it’s a wonder Canada hasn’t declared you some kind of nature’s disaster. Right now, the only thing keeping me from going up there and giving Fraser a piece of my mind is that Ma refuses to stay with the kids if I do. She says all couples fight, and I shouldn’t stick my nose in.
Yeah, right. Just like Aunt Teresa and Uncle Vincenzo never stuck their nose in when Pop was on a tear.
I know you love him, but you don’t have to put up with his crap -- and I honestly never thought I’d say anything like that about Fraser, ever. But it’s true, Ray, you don’t. Just remember, you always have a home here in Chicago when you need it. Ma misses you, and so do Maria and Tony.
Love,
Frannie
~*~*~
March 30, 2001
Hey, Frannie --
I got your letter a week ago, but things -- shit. Things suck, Frannie. They suck beyond the telling of it, and the hell of it is, I can’t even tell you why, because Ben made me promise not to.
And no, that doesn’t mean what you think it means, so get it out of your head right now that he’s abusing me or something. I don’t care how fucked up Ben gets, he’ll never get *that* fucked up, no matter what. You just got to trust me that there’s a reason he’s acting like an asshole lately.
Thanks for letting me know I got a home in Chicago. Makes me feel like you’re still my sister, you know? But as much as I appreciate the offer, I won’t be taking you up on it, not until Ben can come along with me for a visit.
Love,
Ray
P.S. How’s the style pig doing? Has The Stella wised up about him yet?
~*~*~
April 3, 2001
Ray, you are a complete asshole.
And I love you, so thanks for the roses. How did you find out I’m expecting again?
Love,
Frannie
~*~*~
April 16, 2001
Dear Ray --
Is your computer going to be fixed any time soon? Letters are nice and all, but e-mail’s a lot faster, and I get the feeling I should be talking fast to you right now.
I tried calling you on Saturday, when I got your last letter, but Fraser answered the phone, and I just couldn’t stand to hear his voice, not after reading what you wrote. You keep saying he’s not abusing you, but you got to understand that when I hear that from you, it’s like hearing Ma talk to the neighbors when I was a kid, after Pop exploded.
You don’t sound good, Ray, not at all. Please come home to Chicago, just for a little while. Your folks will be up from Arizona in a few weeks, and I know your Mom and Pop would love to see you.
Love, Frannie
~*~*~
TO: franniev@yahoo.com
FR: srkowalski@yahoo.ca
DT: May 31, 2001 9:31:05 AM PDT
SUBJECT: You tattled on me to my ex-wife!?!?!
Jeez, Frannie -- I thought you loved me. How the hell could you do this to me? You have any idea what kind of hell you put us through when you sicced Stella on Ben?
I just -- I can’t believe you went and did this to me -- to Ben!
That’s not buddies.
~*~*~
TO: srkowalski@yahoo.ca
FR: franniev@yahoo.com
DT: May 31, 2001 12:16:43 PM CDT
SUBJECT: RE: You tattled on me to my ex-wife!?!?!
What did you expect me to do? Ignore this? It may not be buddies, Ray, but it’s sure as hell what a sister would do.
Just the fact that Fraser went ballistic tells me I did the right thing. You may not forgive me anytime soon, if ever, but I’m not going to sit around and watch you shrivel up a little more each year the way Ma did right up until Pop died.
I’m *not* sorry I convinced her to go up there, so don’t hold your breath waiting for me to apologize.
~*~*~
TO: franniev@yahoo.com
FR: srkowalski@yahoo.ca
DT: May 31, 2001 9:31:05 AM PDT
SUBJECT: RE: You tattled on me to my ex-wife!?!?!
Okay, look, I finally got Ben to agree to let me tell you what’s going on, and that’s only because he knows Stella’s going to tell Vecchio what happened as soon as she gets home.
Last December, Ben was out on patrol, strictly routine, and Dief was riding with him that day, thank God. We still don’t know what exactly happened, because Ben’s the most careful driver up here, but he ended up flipping his Jeep down a pretty steep embankment. Dief jumped clear easy enough, but Ben was strapped in for most of the ride down.
*Most* of the ride down. He was thrown out before the Jeep hit the bottom, and when it did, it landed on his left leg. Dief was the hero that day. Once he figured out Ben was trapped, he shot off to look for help. Problem was it took almost eight hours to get there, and by that time, Ben’s leg had been without blood for too long.
Fuck, I hate this! I hate remembering it, and I hate having to talk about it. No wonder Ben didn’t want to tell anyone.
They had to amputate, Frannie, just above his knee. Doctors said the cold that day probably saved his life in a weird, fucked up way, because he didn’t bleed to death where he could have, if the weather had been warmer. When Ben woke up two days later, he didn’t believe he’d lost his leg. Said he could still feel it, and never mind that he couldn’t see it. Once they dicked around with his medications a little, he finally bought a clue and paid attention.
He had -- he *has* a hard time with it. This is -- hell, you remember what he’s like. You can figure out why he’s got such a short fuse lately, right?
Thing is, he’s getting better, a little better every day. He’s doing great in PT, and as soon as the swelling goes down, they’ll be able to fit him with a really good prosthetic. He’s thinking about getting one that’ll let him run, maybe even snowshoe.
Look, I got to go. We’re taking Stella out for dinner tonight, and I still have to take a shower. I’ll give you a call tomorrow night, after I take her to the airport, and we’ll talk some more then.
Ray
P.S. Ben just told me to say he’s sorry for all the concern he caused, and he’s sorry he didn’t let me tell you sooner. He said he’ll write you a letter later this week, if you’re still talking to him. Maybe it’s a good thing you sent Stella up here after all. For the first time in six months, I feel like I got him back. Love you, Sis.