Fallen, chapter 2
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Frank woke up early the next day to take his son to Claudia's house. He knew that no matter how sweet and innocent she looked, his ex-wife threw a mean fit when something was off by even just a tiny bit. This included getting her son at the exact time, every two weeks. A minute early or a half second too late resulted in a display of the petite brunette's explosive temper. Frank shuddered as he fixed some breakfast for his son.
"Franky!" he called up the stairs, "Hurry up, or we'll be late!" Sure enough, a few minutes later, Franky ran eagerly down the stairs until he was abruptly halted by a large hand holding him gently on the chest. "Franky." His father said sternly, "What did mommy and I both tell you about running up and down the stairs?"
Franky frowned a little, the universal frown worn by children who'd been caught in the act. "I shouldn't do it, Daddy," he recited, rolling his eyes. His frown disappeared and his cheeks dimpled. "But Daddy! It's so much fun!"
Frank laughed and ruffled the kid's hair. "I don't care how fun it is. It's dangerous. Now, come on, eat your breakfast." He led the way into the kitchen, to the Frosted Flakes for Franky and toast and coffee for himself.
"Franky," he warned, "Eat slowly. You don't want to choke."
"Yes, Daddy." Franky stopped trying to inhale his cereal. Fifteen minutes later, the owner of La Musicale was ushering his son into the car and fastening his seatbelt. With patience, love, and the help of the CD player in his car, Frank made it through the forty-five minute drive to his ex-wife, Claudia's house. He picked up Franky, who was bouncing up and down with energy, and rang the doorbell. The white door creaked open, greeting Frank Senior with quite a shock.
"C-Claudia?" he stuttered, surprised. The normally chipper and upbeat looking woman looked... well, she looked like crap.
"Hi Frank." She replied emotionlessly, barely opening her throat or eyes. "Why are you at my house at 7:30 on a Saturday morning?"
"You're shit! I mean, your son. I have to drop Franky off today."
"Come inside." Claudia left the door wide open for her son and ex-husband to come in. They did so, and Frankito immediately ran up to his room with his bag.
"Claudia." Frank said. Just one word. Even that one word was hard to get out; he hadn't seen her like this since before the divorce, almost three years ago. He tried again. "Claudia?" Through the mess of hair falling on her face, Claudia smirked and let out a humorless chuckle.
"What Frank? Are you wondering why it looks like hell broke loose and danced on my face?"
"No, its none of my—" he stopped himself. He still cared about her. "Yes I am. You know I am. You know I care. You still matter to me, Claude."
She accepted his comment with a nod. "You want some coffee?"
"No. I want you to start talking."
"Too bad. Make me some coffee and then we'll talk."
"But--"
"Coffee."
"Fine." Frank said with a resigned sigh. He went into Claudia's kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee. He handed one to Claudia. "Talk." He demanded.
She took a long sip of her coffee before saying anything. "Remember... " she hesitated; this was a delicate subject. She began again, "Remember Kevin?"
Frank nodded. He would never forget Kevin. He nodded again, this time with acceptance. The last of his bitter feelings had evaporated months ago. Claudia continued, "Kevin and I have been going out since the divorce." She spoke carefully. She knew that Frank knew perfectly well that she and Kevin had been going out since before divorce had even crossed anyone's mind. "Well, he proposed two months ago. I said yes." She cracked a smile and so did Frank. Even though they weren't in love anymore, they cared for each other and edged on the line of friendship. He genuinely was happy for her.
Claudia's smile faded, causing Frank's expression to grow worried. She took another gulp of coffee before going on. "It was perfect. We had a place booked. We spoke to the priest. I picked out a gown. Perfect." Her eyes were threatening to grow watery as she put down her empty cup. "A few nights ago, we were picking out invitations. Kevin was really stressed out with work. So was I and we still had a bunch of wedding planning to get through with. We... had a slight disagreement." She grimaced. Frank braced himself for whatever it was that would follow. "We fought and he left."
Frank's mouth hung open. "He left? What do you mean by left?" Claudia couldn't stop herself anymore. The tears started to flow and her words lost their clarity.
"He left." She sobbed. "He just got into his car and drove away." She collapsed onto her ex-husbands shoulder.
"Well, he'll be back. That happens. It used to happen to us. I'd drive away and be back the next night." He comforted. "Hey. Come on. Its okay."
Claudia looked up. "Its not okay! It wasn't one night! It's been nine days! I haven't heard from him since! The police haven't found anything either! No car, no license plate, nothing!" she flew into hysterics, causing Frank to jump and spill his coffee.
"Shit." He sprung to his feet. "Listen, Claudia. I'll tell Billie and Adie and we'll keep you posted for any news we get. We'll be here for you, and I'm sure Kevin will be back. If you want I'll take Franky until we find out what's going on."
"N-no." she stuttered, still crying. "I'll take him. Get my mind off this for a bit. Go."
"You sure you'll--"
"Go Frank." She said, pointing to the door. Frank needed no more encouragement than that.
***
"You got the tickets! Excellent! See? I knew you would! Shut up Bill. I'll see you tonight then. Seven thirty. Goodbye Billie. No, bye—Billie. Goodbye." Frank hung up the phone and shook his head. This day was a sequence of good news and bad news. He checked his watch and glancing at the phone once more, he headed to the store.
He drove, for once, without the radio. The music channels usually calmed him in the mornings, but right now, the old rock songs were just noise.
Frank had too much on his mind. The play. Would it really have something to do with his old friend's band? Would he be able to see Twang again? He blinked and tried to focus on the road. He was being ridiculous. It was probably just a coincidence.
Kevin. What the hell could have happened to Kevin? And how could he run off like that in the first place? Frank took a deep breath and told himself to relax. The police would find him. He would be safe and sound. Franky wouldn't have to know that anything had ever happened to his future step daddy. The worst-case scenario is finding him in LA with a broken arm
Just as Frank was pulling into the parking lot of La Musicale, his cell phone rang. Glancing at the name, he took a sharp breath before picking it up.
"Hey. Claudia?" he said uncertainly.
"Yeah. Frank." She could barely speak. Her voice was quavering and sticky, as though she had just finished crying and was about to cry some more. "I—I dropped Franky off at school when I got a call from the police station." Frank could imagine her delicate chin trembling.
"Did they find him? Is he okay?" Frank asked hurriedly.
"No. No, they didn't find him. But they found something. A license plate." She broke off into tears. They found Kevin's license plate? Frank steadied himself before speaking.
"Nothing else? Just the license plate? Did they find the car?"
"No, nothing. Just the license plate." She was breathing heavily, "They said that what probably happened is that Kevin got into a minor accident and his back license plate fell off." Frank sighed with relief before his ex-wife continued, "But I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if someone took his car and ran off?"
"Claudia, calm down. No, don't speak. Just breathe. Good. Now, they're probably right. Kevin is okay." He soothed. "The worst that could happen is that he's in San Francisco with a broken leg. Listen, I have to go to work. I'll ask around, and I'll let you know if I find out anything."
"All right. Bye Frank."
"Bye Claudia." Frank hung up his phone and released his breath. He looked at his watch; he made it just before opening time. Perfect.
He looked around the first floor. Everything was exactly in place. But what was this? Frank crept up to an electric guitar. A sold sign? He examined the guitar. It truly was a beauty; one of Frank's personal favorites. He would hate to see it be carted off to some rich, destructive teenager with no musical sense or knowledge whatsoever. Frank shuddered at the thought of a greasy kid banging this guitar against the floor. He would have to examine the buyer if he came today.
Frank left the instruments and climbed the stairs to the second floor. CDs and apparel. He logged onto the computer and checked the inventory. Frank scrolled down the list. They would have to get another shipment of those Madonna CDs. He chuckled to himself. Madonna was still hot stuff.
On the third and final floor, musical manuals and books, was his office. After a quick glance at the inventory, he sat down in his office and glanced through some catalogues as he waited for his employees. One by one, they arrived. Everyone was here today. Excellent.
At 12:30, Frank went down to the instruments to see if the guitar had been delivered yet. He soon saw that he didn't need to worry. It was still there, as beautiful as ever. Scanning his eyes over the room, he spotted Jim, who was in charge of that first-floor department.
"Jim!" he called. "Hey! Jim." He walked closer to the beginner's acoustic that Jim was showing to a group of fifteen-year-olds. Without a word, Frank pulled Jim away. "Jim."
"Ye—yes sir?" Jim stuttered. For all his suave behavior and charm, Jim was scared to death of Frank. "Is something wrong?" he gulped.
"No, Jim." Frank gave him an encouraging pat on the back, "Nothing's wrong. Just tell me kid, who bought that baby over there?" he pointed to the guitar.
"I—I didn't catch her name sir. I think she was ab-about twenty-five. She said she would come pick up the guitar tomorrow." Jim looked like he was about to cry.
"Don't be such a damn wimp, kid. You did nothing wrong. I was just curious. Now go, lay your Jimmy charm on those kids." Frank released Jim and wandered around the store, observing. The guitarist was a woman. This was intriguing. He would just have to wait until tomorrow to see whom this mystery woman was.
***
Closing hour was near. The accounts for the day were settled, new orders were placed, and items had been sold. Only a few workers remained to help clean up. Frank locked up his office and joined them. Almost everything was done. And the guitar stood there, as perfect as ever.
Finally, everything was cleaned and everyone had gone home. Frank locked up La Musicale and headed home. For some reason, the drive from his shop to his house seemed shorter today. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 7:00. Perfect. He had just enough time to kick back and relax for a while before getting ready for the play.
He took out some chicken and heated it in the microwave. Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Half an hour later, dinner was eaten as well. Frank trudged into his room to change his clothes, when the doorbell rang. Groaning about the 'damn neighbors', he opened it.
"Hi Bill. Hi Adrienne." He greeted tiredly. Billie winked at him as they both returned the greeting. Frank let his friends inside the house, and excused himself as he took a moment to change. Soon, the trio set out on their way to see the Underground Opera's performance of Romeo and Juliet.
And that night, the traffic wasn't the only thing that no one could have predicted.
"Franky!" he called up the stairs, "Hurry up, or we'll be late!" Sure enough, a few minutes later, Franky ran eagerly down the stairs until he was abruptly halted by a large hand holding him gently on the chest. "Franky." His father said sternly, "What did mommy and I both tell you about running up and down the stairs?"
Franky frowned a little, the universal frown worn by children who'd been caught in the act. "I shouldn't do it, Daddy," he recited, rolling his eyes. His frown disappeared and his cheeks dimpled. "But Daddy! It's so much fun!"
Frank laughed and ruffled the kid's hair. "I don't care how fun it is. It's dangerous. Now, come on, eat your breakfast." He led the way into the kitchen, to the Frosted Flakes for Franky and toast and coffee for himself.
"Franky," he warned, "Eat slowly. You don't want to choke."
"Yes, Daddy." Franky stopped trying to inhale his cereal. Fifteen minutes later, the owner of La Musicale was ushering his son into the car and fastening his seatbelt. With patience, love, and the help of the CD player in his car, Frank made it through the forty-five minute drive to his ex-wife, Claudia's house. He picked up Franky, who was bouncing up and down with energy, and rang the doorbell. The white door creaked open, greeting Frank Senior with quite a shock.
"C-Claudia?" he stuttered, surprised. The normally chipper and upbeat looking woman looked... well, she looked like crap.
"Hi Frank." She replied emotionlessly, barely opening her throat or eyes. "Why are you at my house at 7:30 on a Saturday morning?"
"You're shit! I mean, your son. I have to drop Franky off today."
"Come inside." Claudia left the door wide open for her son and ex-husband to come in. They did so, and Frankito immediately ran up to his room with his bag.
"Claudia." Frank said. Just one word. Even that one word was hard to get out; he hadn't seen her like this since before the divorce, almost three years ago. He tried again. "Claudia?" Through the mess of hair falling on her face, Claudia smirked and let out a humorless chuckle.
"What Frank? Are you wondering why it looks like hell broke loose and danced on my face?"
"No, its none of my—" he stopped himself. He still cared about her. "Yes I am. You know I am. You know I care. You still matter to me, Claude."
She accepted his comment with a nod. "You want some coffee?"
"No. I want you to start talking."
"Too bad. Make me some coffee and then we'll talk."
"But--"
"Coffee."
"Fine." Frank said with a resigned sigh. He went into Claudia's kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee. He handed one to Claudia. "Talk." He demanded.
She took a long sip of her coffee before saying anything. "Remember... " she hesitated; this was a delicate subject. She began again, "Remember Kevin?"
Frank nodded. He would never forget Kevin. He nodded again, this time with acceptance. The last of his bitter feelings had evaporated months ago. Claudia continued, "Kevin and I have been going out since the divorce." She spoke carefully. She knew that Frank knew perfectly well that she and Kevin had been going out since before divorce had even crossed anyone's mind. "Well, he proposed two months ago. I said yes." She cracked a smile and so did Frank. Even though they weren't in love anymore, they cared for each other and edged on the line of friendship. He genuinely was happy for her.
Claudia's smile faded, causing Frank's expression to grow worried. She took another gulp of coffee before going on. "It was perfect. We had a place booked. We spoke to the priest. I picked out a gown. Perfect." Her eyes were threatening to grow watery as she put down her empty cup. "A few nights ago, we were picking out invitations. Kevin was really stressed out with work. So was I and we still had a bunch of wedding planning to get through with. We... had a slight disagreement." She grimaced. Frank braced himself for whatever it was that would follow. "We fought and he left."
Frank's mouth hung open. "He left? What do you mean by left?" Claudia couldn't stop herself anymore. The tears started to flow and her words lost their clarity.
"He left." She sobbed. "He just got into his car and drove away." She collapsed onto her ex-husbands shoulder.
"Well, he'll be back. That happens. It used to happen to us. I'd drive away and be back the next night." He comforted. "Hey. Come on. Its okay."
Claudia looked up. "Its not okay! It wasn't one night! It's been nine days! I haven't heard from him since! The police haven't found anything either! No car, no license plate, nothing!" she flew into hysterics, causing Frank to jump and spill his coffee.
"Shit." He sprung to his feet. "Listen, Claudia. I'll tell Billie and Adie and we'll keep you posted for any news we get. We'll be here for you, and I'm sure Kevin will be back. If you want I'll take Franky until we find out what's going on."
"N-no." she stuttered, still crying. "I'll take him. Get my mind off this for a bit. Go."
"You sure you'll--"
"Go Frank." She said, pointing to the door. Frank needed no more encouragement than that.
***
"You got the tickets! Excellent! See? I knew you would! Shut up Bill. I'll see you tonight then. Seven thirty. Goodbye Billie. No, bye—Billie. Goodbye." Frank hung up the phone and shook his head. This day was a sequence of good news and bad news. He checked his watch and glancing at the phone once more, he headed to the store.
He drove, for once, without the radio. The music channels usually calmed him in the mornings, but right now, the old rock songs were just noise.
Frank had too much on his mind. The play. Would it really have something to do with his old friend's band? Would he be able to see Twang again? He blinked and tried to focus on the road. He was being ridiculous. It was probably just a coincidence.
Kevin. What the hell could have happened to Kevin? And how could he run off like that in the first place? Frank took a deep breath and told himself to relax. The police would find him. He would be safe and sound. Franky wouldn't have to know that anything had ever happened to his future step daddy. The worst-case scenario is finding him in LA with a broken arm
Just as Frank was pulling into the parking lot of La Musicale, his cell phone rang. Glancing at the name, he took a sharp breath before picking it up.
"Hey. Claudia?" he said uncertainly.
"Yeah. Frank." She could barely speak. Her voice was quavering and sticky, as though she had just finished crying and was about to cry some more. "I—I dropped Franky off at school when I got a call from the police station." Frank could imagine her delicate chin trembling.
"Did they find him? Is he okay?" Frank asked hurriedly.
"No. No, they didn't find him. But they found something. A license plate." She broke off into tears. They found Kevin's license plate? Frank steadied himself before speaking.
"Nothing else? Just the license plate? Did they find the car?"
"No, nothing. Just the license plate." She was breathing heavily, "They said that what probably happened is that Kevin got into a minor accident and his back license plate fell off." Frank sighed with relief before his ex-wife continued, "But I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if someone took his car and ran off?"
"Claudia, calm down. No, don't speak. Just breathe. Good. Now, they're probably right. Kevin is okay." He soothed. "The worst that could happen is that he's in San Francisco with a broken leg. Listen, I have to go to work. I'll ask around, and I'll let you know if I find out anything."
"All right. Bye Frank."
"Bye Claudia." Frank hung up his phone and released his breath. He looked at his watch; he made it just before opening time. Perfect.
He looked around the first floor. Everything was exactly in place. But what was this? Frank crept up to an electric guitar. A sold sign? He examined the guitar. It truly was a beauty; one of Frank's personal favorites. He would hate to see it be carted off to some rich, destructive teenager with no musical sense or knowledge whatsoever. Frank shuddered at the thought of a greasy kid banging this guitar against the floor. He would have to examine the buyer if he came today.
Frank left the instruments and climbed the stairs to the second floor. CDs and apparel. He logged onto the computer and checked the inventory. Frank scrolled down the list. They would have to get another shipment of those Madonna CDs. He chuckled to himself. Madonna was still hot stuff.
On the third and final floor, musical manuals and books, was his office. After a quick glance at the inventory, he sat down in his office and glanced through some catalogues as he waited for his employees. One by one, they arrived. Everyone was here today. Excellent.
At 12:30, Frank went down to the instruments to see if the guitar had been delivered yet. He soon saw that he didn't need to worry. It was still there, as beautiful as ever. Scanning his eyes over the room, he spotted Jim, who was in charge of that first-floor department.
"Jim!" he called. "Hey! Jim." He walked closer to the beginner's acoustic that Jim was showing to a group of fifteen-year-olds. Without a word, Frank pulled Jim away. "Jim."
"Ye—yes sir?" Jim stuttered. For all his suave behavior and charm, Jim was scared to death of Frank. "Is something wrong?" he gulped.
"No, Jim." Frank gave him an encouraging pat on the back, "Nothing's wrong. Just tell me kid, who bought that baby over there?" he pointed to the guitar.
"I—I didn't catch her name sir. I think she was ab-about twenty-five. She said she would come pick up the guitar tomorrow." Jim looked like he was about to cry.
"Don't be such a damn wimp, kid. You did nothing wrong. I was just curious. Now go, lay your Jimmy charm on those kids." Frank released Jim and wandered around the store, observing. The guitarist was a woman. This was intriguing. He would just have to wait until tomorrow to see whom this mystery woman was.
***
Closing hour was near. The accounts for the day were settled, new orders were placed, and items had been sold. Only a few workers remained to help clean up. Frank locked up his office and joined them. Almost everything was done. And the guitar stood there, as perfect as ever.
Finally, everything was cleaned and everyone had gone home. Frank locked up La Musicale and headed home. For some reason, the drive from his shop to his house seemed shorter today. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 7:00. Perfect. He had just enough time to kick back and relax for a while before getting ready for the play.
He took out some chicken and heated it in the microwave. Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Half an hour later, dinner was eaten as well. Frank trudged into his room to change his clothes, when the doorbell rang. Groaning about the 'damn neighbors', he opened it.
"Hi Bill. Hi Adrienne." He greeted tiredly. Billie winked at him as they both returned the greeting. Frank let his friends inside the house, and excused himself as he took a moment to change. Soon, the trio set out on their way to see the Underground Opera's performance of Romeo and Juliet.
And that night, the traffic wasn't the only thing that no one could have predicted.
