“Yeah, that’s right, Natalia,” Vinnie Senior replied. “And perhaps you should see this as a lesson in family: you mess up, you fess up. Make amends. And if you can do that bein’ there for someone you care about in her time of need, all the better. Somethin’ my son tells me you didn’t do, her lyin’ in a hospital bed for days without a visit from her sister.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I work nights so I gotta sleep days,” she returned.
“That is not an excuse and you stand there sayin’ those words knowin’ it,” Vinnie Senior replied.
Nat opened her mouth to speak, but Benny had gotten a lock on it.
That said, he was also done.
“Pop, get her out before I do it,” he warned.
Nat’s eyes shot to him just as Vinnie moved to her and he saw she was at least smart enough to read his look and know her time was up.
This was why she yelled, “Shit! Fuck! I got no place to go and no money to get there!”
“Not my problem,” Benny told her.
She looked to her sister. “Frankie, seriously—”
“I did not kill Vinnie.”
This was unexpected. It was also whispered. And it sounded tortured. Hearing it, everyone in that space went still except Ben, who looked to Francesca at the same time he moved up, crowding her on the step.
Her eyes stayed glued to her sister. “That you would say that to me, even think that about me…you’re dead to me.”
Fuck.
“Frankie, babe—” Nat started.
“Dead,” she whispered, turned, and rushed up the steps.
Benny cut his eyes to his father and ordered a growled, “Get her the f**k out, Pop. Now.”
Then he turned and took the steps two at a time, following Frankie.
He hit his bedroom to see Frankie pacing, face pale, visibly deep breathing. He was concerned about her state of mind, but he was downright worried when he saw she had her hand resting where her wound was.
Uncertain about getting physical when she was so clearly agitated, he called, “Baby, come here.”
Her eyes moved to him. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it before she got a word out.
He still caught the look in her eye and it was one he couldn’t read again. This one was bad.
“Francesca, come here,” he repeated.
“I need alone time,” she stated, her voice dead, her feet still moving her around the room in a twitchy way he did not like.
“Cara, you don’t need that,” he told her. “You need more coffee, breakfast, and to sit down at the kitchen table with people who give a shit about you.”
“Everything okay?”
This came from the door where Asheeka was standing, eyes on Frankie.
They moved to Benny when he said, “Got this, darlin’. Be down in a minute.”
She bit her lip, looked to her girl, hesitated indecisively, then nodded in a way that Benny knew she didn’t like doing it. After that, she disappeared.
Frankie paced throughout this.
Benny approached, gently pulled her in his arms, and put a stop to it.
She didn’t put her arms around him, nor did she remove her hand from her middle.
“You got pain?” he asked.
“I was premature in upping my doctor-ordered exercise to a dramatic dash up a flight of stairs,” she answered.
Fucking Nat.
“Right. Then I’ll carry you downstairs, you’ll lie on the couch, eat Ma’s pancakes, visit with people who give a shit about you, and after they’re gone, you can give me what’s right now f**kin’ with your head.”
Her gaze moved to his and he could easily read what was in it before she hid it.
Panic.
He didn’t get that, but he did get he had to conquer it. Not later.
Now.
So he drew her cautiously closer. “Frankie?”
She looked to his shoulder. “You’re right. Pancakes would be good.”
“Francesca.”
Her eyes lifted to his and they were carefully blank.
Oh yeah, he had to conquer that.
Now.
“Maybe we should talk right now about what happened downstairs,” he suggested.
“Vinnie’s here. I should talk to him.”
“He’s not goin’ anywhere.”
She shook her head, her eyes drifting away, but he got them back by giving her a light squeeze.
“She’s Nat,” she surprised him by whispering the second she caught his eye. “She’s been married to Davey for five years, with him for three before that, and I know of four times she’s stepped out on him. There’s probably more. And he’s a good guy. If she’s not screwing around on him, and he’s not pissed and tryin’ to save face by puttin’ her out when everyone knows he’s gonna take her back, he treats her like gold. They don’t have it great, but they’re not starving. They got a decent place. But bottom line, he loves her. What more does she need? What’s she lookin’ for?”
Her words so closely followed his earlier train of thought about his brother, Benny found it disturbing. At the same time, it stirred something deep in his gut, which was a place he felt a variety of things stir when it came to Frankie.
But this one went deeper.
Frankie kept talking.
“I know she learned that shit from my parents, thinkin’ it’s okay to have your fun however it comes and the people around you who love you will put up with your shit or bail, and if they bail, it’s no skin off your nose. You just keep on findin’ your fun and you don’t think a thought about the people who love you that you’re hurting in the meantime.”
“Babe—” he started, but she was on a roll and she wasn’t ready to quit.
“And she’s my sister and that scene played out in front of your folks who don’t get that. They’ve been together for decades and they have been because they know what’s important. And they made Carm, who’s been tied to her man for twelve years and wouldn’t even think about lookin’ at another guy. Hell, the four years she was with him before they got married, she wouldn’t do it.”
Benny was just disturbed at hearing her talk about his sister and her man and the time they’d been together, and how at the beginning of that time Frankie was not a part of their lives.
But she wasn’t done.
“She’ll never grow out of that shit. She’ll never wake up. She brought her shit to your door, it got ugly, but in six months or two years or whenever she f**ks up again, she will not hesitate to do it again. Who does that?”