Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8

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Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8 Page 32

by Jacqueline Druga


  “Care to bet?”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet you.” Frank took a long hit from his cigarette and put it down again. “If I get this, you have to do my cleanup tonight. I’m on cleanup.”

  “OK. But if you miss, you have to ...” Danny closed his eyes thinking. When he opened them he had a bright smile upon his face. “You have to ...” He started to snicker. “You have to shave your chest.”

  Frank’s mouth dropped open. “Now what the fuck would even make you bet something like that. That is really off.”

  “Ah, but it isn’t.” Danny held up his finger. “There is no money, so therefore we must bet something of value that we can take from the other. You must feel that it is a waste of time to do cleanup. My time, anyone’s time, is valuable so you bet me cleanup. I know how valuable your chest hair is to you, or rather to Ellen. I was at the field and seeing that your chest is the only thing she was rubbing, I’m going to say she feels that is your best asset. Of course I saw your voodoo doll too.”

  “Hey.”

  “We on?”

  “What do you have to gain by me shaving my chest?”

  “Nothing really. I just think it would be really funny. Frank? Afraid.”

  “Fuck no.” Frank took another sip of his drink and walked to the line. “Watch.” He tilted his head to the left, then the right, rolling it around. He extended his arm, toe near the line, and concentrated.

  “Frank.”

  Frank’s arm dropped. “Danny. Shh.”

  Danny watched and as soon as he saw Frank ready to throw, he called out again, “Frank.”

  “Danny!”

  Danny laughed. “Go on. I don’t need to cheat.” He folded his arms, envisioning in his mind Frank with a bald chest and Ellen’s shock when she saw it. Then that vision swept from his mind when he heard the bull’s-eye music play, and he looked up to see Frank’s dart sticking out from it. “Shit.”

  “Cleanup tonight, pal. It’s Saturday night too.” Frank handed his darts to the next guy who was waiting for Frank and Danny’s game to be over. He walked to the bar with Danny. “And the band,” Frank used his head to point to Robbie’s band that had just stopped to take a break, “you’ll have to throw their asses out of here, all but Denny. His mom comes for him.” Frank leaned into the bar, smoking and drinking.

  “This place is really great.” Danny looked around. “It reminds me so much of the old world. A band, the juke box coming on when they take their break, people laughing, drinking, and Ellen just walked in.”

  Frank’s head sprang up and he quickly blew out the smoke he held in his mouth. “Shit.” He hurriedly put out his cigarette.

  “I take it you don’t smoke in front of Ellen?” Danny asked, then watched Frank finish his drink and put the glass far from him. “Or drink in front of her.”

  Frank shook his head. “She doesn’t ... hey, where is she going?” He watched Ellen walk from the bar with a glass in her hand, through the crowded Social Hall, and sit at a small table nearer to the band. She sat alone there, staring at the stage.

  “I thought you asked her to meet you here.”

  “I did.” Frank kept watching her.

  “I’d like to say she didn’t see you, but how can she miss you?” Danny moved closer to Frank. “She looks really down.”

  “Yeah she does. Fuckin Henry.” Frank twitched his head in disgust.

  “You going over there?”

  “Yep.” Frank looked around the bar, grabbed his glass back, poured a small amount in there, and downed it. He slammed down his glass. “I don’t want to see her like this anymore.”

  “Think you can help her?”

  “I know I can help her.” Frank flashed a quick closed-mouth smile and walked across the hall to the table Ellen sat at. Still staring forward, a glass of water in her hand, she seemed oblivious to anything but that stage. “Hey,” Frank whispered in her ear, “they just took their break.”

  “I’ll wait,” Ellen spoke so down. “Just tell me I didn’t miss the ‘Silly’ song.”

  “You missed the ‘Silly’ song.”

  “Shit.”

  “Can I sit down?” Frank pulled out a chair.

  “What if I said no?”

  “I’d still sit.” Frank sat next to her. “I’m feeling really bad here, El.”

  “Why is that?” She looked at him.

  “I asked you out. You turned me down. Then I ask you to hang out, you turn me down. You show up and ignore me. Do you really want me to leave you alone?”

  “If I told you ‘yes’ would you leave?”

  “If you really wanted me to ...”

  Ellen stared at him for a second. “I don’t want you to.”

  “Good.” Frank smiled. “Can you tell me something though? Can you tell me why you wouldn’t let me ask you out for date purposes?”

  “I just like to give you a hard time, Frank.”

  “I would just like to give you a good time, El.”

  “As appealing as that sounds right now, I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t think anyone can make me feel good.”

  Frank smirked and threw his head back. “You don’t think?”

  “No, I don’t.” Ellen stayed solemn.

  “El, babe,” Frank took on a tone of cockiness, “you just so happen to be sitting, right now, with the only guy who can make you forget about everything and put a smile on that face.” He touched her cheek.

  “Is this coming from the man who has the most arrogance Beginnings?”

  “Nope, it’s coming from the man who loves you the most in Beginnings.”

  Ellen smiled slightly. “That’s really nice.”

  “See.” He pointed to her mouth. “A beginning.” Frank tapped his fingers on the table, looking around. “You know what I haven’t done with you in awhile.”

  Ellen only turned her head with raised eyebrows.

  “Besides that.” Frank returned the raising eyebrows. “I haven’t danced with you.”

  “The band is not playing, Frank, or haven’t you noticed.”

  “We have the jukebox.”

  Ellen twitched her head to it. “It stopped too.”

  “Easily remedied.” Frank began to stand up.

  “No, Frank, I don’t feel like dancing.”

  “I do.” He walked backwards to the jukebox. “I’ll play our song.”

  “No I ...” Ellen watched him walk to the jukebox, grab the stock dollar and press the selection quickly. Walking back to the table, Ellen saw by the way Frank stopped and the way his smile dropped from his face that he screwed up. “Frank, that’s not our song.”

  “Shit. I hit ‘E-7’. Damn it.”

  “Oh well.”

  Frank moved to the table. “We’ll make this our song. We’ll just say it’s our song.”

  “This is ‘Tears on My Pillow’, Frank. It’s far from our song.”

  “So dance.”

  “No. We’ll just sit.”

  “I’ll make you.” Frank tilted his head.

  “How can you make me dance?”

  “El, if you don’t dance.” Frank held out his hand. “I will ... I will sing until you get up with me.”

  “Frank, I’d rather ... Whoa.” Ellen grabbed the sides of the chair as it was slid to the edge of the dance floor. “Frank ...”

  Loudly, and capturing the attention of everyone—first, causing moans, then silence—Frank began to sing. “You don’t remember me ... Come on, El, dance ... but I remember you.”

  “Oh my God.” Ellen stared speechless at Frank standing before her with his arms out.

  “Was not so long ago ... everyone’s watching ... you broke my heart in two.”

  “Frank ...”

  “Tears on my pillow.”

  “Frank ...”

  “Pain in my heart. Caused by you ...” He pointed at her. “You-u-u-u-u.”

  “Frank, please.” Ellen tried to get up, but he made her sit down. “Please quit it.” She looked around as everyone step
ped closer. “Oh God.” She covered her face.

  “Dance with me, El.” He pulled her hands from her face, and she struggled to put them back up. He kept pulling and kept singing. “Love is not a something or other ... I’m good huh ... love is not a toy. I have found the one I love, you fill my heart with joy ... whoa-oh-oh-oh. Here is the really big part!”

  “No!”

  Frank dropped to one knee, holding his hands out, and singing even louder, “If we could start anew! I wouldn’t hesitate ... El, please ... I’d gladly take you back ... I mean that ... and tempt the hand of fate.” Just as he gave one more pleading look, Ellen’s hands plopped down into his and she stood up.

  “Stop singing.” She fake smiled and joined him on the dance floor.

  “Tears on my pillow ...”

  “Frank.”

  “Pain in my heart.” He pulled her into his chest, holding her right hand as he swayed upbeat to the faster-tempo slow song, smiling the whole time, keeping his grinning face so close to hers. “Told you I’d make you smile.”

  “Only you, Frank.”

  “I can sing that next.” He continued to dance with her.

  “No, don’t.” As Ellen hugged Frank at the end of the song, the room filled with the applause of those who clapped for Frank’s valiant efforts. “Oh shit.” She pulled back to see those who watched them.

  “I hope I don’t get mobbed for autographs.”

  “Frank.” She laughed and shook her head. “Can we sit down now?”

  “I’d rather not. Not right now ... listen.” He pointed with his head to the jukebox and the next song playing.

  “You did play our song. Did you play that first one on purpose?”

  “You think I was gonna waste our entire song getting you up to dance?” Frank fluttered his lips. “Please.”

  Ellen stepped closer to him, placing her face near to his, and they slowed down in that dance to a point where they barely moved. “Thank you for this, Frank.”

  “The night is not over yet,” Frank whispered sensuously. “I’d like to take you from here and do what I had planned to do with you.”

  “What is that?” Ellen asked, feeling his warm breath as he spoke so closely to her ear.

  “It’s the one thing I know we used to do all the time, since we were kids, that we had fun doing. It always took our minds off of everything, because we did it together.”

  “You were planning this?”

  “Oh yeah.” Frank pulled her closer. “Do you know where I’m going with this?”

  “I think so.”

  “How many times did we occupy our boring summer nights with it?”

  “Winter too.”

  “Even though it was too cold to do it outside.”

  “We still did,” Ellen finished his sentence. “You want to do this now? Or is it too early? We can make it seem like the old days.”

  “It’s never too early. I’ll take you far from here.”

  “Let’s do it, Frank.” Ellen stepped back and looked up to him.

  “El, you realize you are the only person on the face of the earth that knows what I’m thinking without me saying anything.”

  “I’ve known you forever, Frank ... the music stopped.”

  “Then let’s get out of here. Are you ready to have some fun?”

  “More than you know.” Ellen let Frank take her hand and he led her off the floor and through the tables.

  Frank stopped before he left. “Danny!” he yelled over. “Have fun cleaning up.”

  Ellen looked oddly at him while following his lead out. “What was that all about? Why does Danny have cleanup?”

  “He bet me I couldn’t hit the bull’s-eye and he lost.”

  “What did you bet?”

  “My chest hair.”

  Ellen stopped cold, mouth open, in the Social Hall doorway. “I would have killed you if you lost.”

  Still holding the door open for her, Frank lowered the collar of his tee shirt. “Yeah, but it’s still there.” He smiled at her softly, motioned his head, and brought her from the Social Hall.

  <><><><>

  It was a good thing that Frank had taken Ellen to the garages because her scream would have ricocheted through the Living Section. “God, Frank!” She bent down to pick up the sopping-wet cloth that flew across the garage, smacked her in the face, and dropped to the floor. She re-saturated it and tossed it back at him smacking him in the already wet chest. “You cheat.” She turned to dump out her bucket of water again.

  “Hey, El?”

  “What ...” Smack! It hit her again. “Frank!” She held out her arms. She was soaking wet. “I can’t believe I agreed to torture myself like this with you.”

  “Yeah, but how many jeeps did we wash?” He carried his bucket over with her to dump it out.

  “Three.”

  “Productive night.”

  “It always worked when we were younger. Of course people always thought we were whacked, washing cars after midnight.” She tilted her bucket. “But it always took my mind off ...” Another shriek came from her when Frank dumped his bucket out, not on the ground, but over her head. “I hate you.” With quick thinking, she tossed the entire contents of her bucket at him. Frank jumped back but not fast enough to avoid the splatter of water that came his way.

  “El.” With an ornery look, he picked up the hose.

  “Frank, no.” She held her hands up and squinted, trying to backup. As she bumped into the doorway, the stream from the hose came at her and her blocking hands only caused it to spray outward and into her face. “Stop!”

  “All right.” He turned off the hose and dropped it. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes, but I’m feeling cold.”

  “It’s hot out, so what.” He ran his hand over his wet head. “The jeeps look good.”

  “We always did a good job, but I don’t ever remember getting this wet.”

  “Oh, we got this wet.” Frank walked closer to her. “In fact, I can really remember ...” He bent down.

  “No.” She saw him pick up the rag, but she had nowhere to go.

  “Shh.” He stepped closer. “I can remember when you’d wear white shirts like this.” Another step closer. “And I remember thinking how hot ... you ... you would look,” he softened his voice, “when you were wet.”

  Ellen swallowed, watching him bring the cloth right up to her chest level. So slowly he moved that rag, squeezing it in a teasing manner, letting the water trickle across her chest and down her shirt.

  Frank kept his eyes on her chest, watching it rise and fall, the dampness of it exposing the skin that stuck to her shirt. “El.” He saw her breathing get heavier.

  Ellen’s eyes stayed fixed on his fingers that lightly touched the low collar of her shirt. They trailed over her skin and up to her neck. Letting her eyes follow his hand, they led her to his eyes and she couldn’t pull them away. She felt his body step closer to her. “You did ...” She took a heavy breath. “You did what you said you’d do.” She heard the wet cloth hit the pavement. “You took my mind off of things. Are you gonna ... are you gonna stop here.”

  Frank was so silent, almost a painful look was upon his face as both of his hands went to her face then slid back to her hair. His fingers gripped the wet strands, pulling back her head and tilting her face towards his. He brought his nose to hers, brushing it against hers, and breathing with an ache as his body pressed into hers. “Ellen,” he whispered her name, touching her lips so softly with his in a tease then pulling back. “More than anything, right now, I want to kiss you.”

  “What’s stopping you?” She brought her mouth to his but Frank pulled back.

  “The fact that nothing will be able to stop me is what is stopping me,” he spoke through heavy, breathy words, “I can’t do this. This isn’t what tonight is about.”

  “Frank ...”

  “No. It’s not what tonight is about.” Touching her face one more time, he kissed her quickly then pulled back. “Tonight
was about making you smile and I did that.”

  “Yes you did, Frank.” Ellen watched him proceed to clean up like the moment that just was, never happened. She smiled at him, really smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And ... you know what?” Frank bent down and picked up the buckets. “Everything will work out for you. I’m sure of it. How you’re feeling right now will get better.”

  “I don’t want it to.”

  “You want to stay sad?”

  “No. You said how I’m feeling right now. Right now, Frank, I’m happy that I have you in my life to make it all go away.”

  Frank had nothing to say to that. He just wanted to enjoy her words, and he basked in them while he finished putting things away. “You ready to go home, or you think you might want to go back to my house and talk?”

  “Talk? It’s pretty late, Frank. I might start to ramble. You know how I am at night.”

  “Then we’ll stay up and talk as late as you want. All right?”

  “I’d like that.” She watched Frank pick up his boots and set them on the workbench. He then proceeded to undo his pants. “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t walk home in these pants. I can’t move.” He dropped them. “Wanna walk back half dressed?” He winked. “Come on it’ll be fun, me in my boxers and you in that wet tee shirt.”

  “If I do this with you, will you make me a sandwich? I’m kind of hungry.”

  Frank, wearing only his boxers, picked up all his clothes, his boots, and his shoulder harness. “I’ll make you a sandwich.” So simple it seemed with Ellen, just being them. Frank placed his arm around her, holding his clothes and hers, and walked slowly with her back home.

  They fought over the front door and who would get in first. Ellen being smaller and wetter, slipped herself between Frank and the door, stumbled into his living room, and laughed. “I won.”

  “I let you.”

  “Right.” Ellen saw him ready to drop the wet clothes. “Leave them outside.”

  “Shit, you’re right.” Frank opened the front door and set the clothes on the porch. He carried his shoulder harness inside, tossing it over the back of the couch. He saw Ellen standing with her arms crossed tightly. “What’s wrong?”

 

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