They’ve named him Frantz.
Even, however she was coming to him, he could hear the emotion thickening her voice.
“Baby,” he whispered.
He said no more, giving her a minute to pull her shit together because that was Franka. She wasn’t about falling apart.
She took that minute and said in a crisp voice (total Franka, bullshitting to cover), He’s quite handsome.
“Babies aren’t handsome, sugarlips, they’re cute.”
I thought you said I was cute.
“You are. Babies are a different kind of cute.”
And baby is what you often call me.
He chuckled.
There are parts of your patois that are very clever. There are parts that make no sense. She paused before she finished, And now, after I take a week or so to get to know my new nephew, be certain Brikitta is well and recovering, and sort out Josette and I, I’ll learn much more.
“Yeah, you will,” he agreed.
Are you…?
He waited for her to finish but she didn’t.
He turned to his side, wrapping a hand around his pillow and using both arms to curl it closer.
Like it was a woman.
Like Franka was there.
Fuck he hoped the saying was right that time healed all wounds.
If it didn’t, he’d wait for her to heal. He’d help her do it.
But he’d also be right fucking there if she was.
“I’m ready when you are, babe. Korwahk is fuckin’ nutty. I dig it to visit and explore, but I’m not sure how Circe made the decision to live here forever. Interesting. But still fucked up. Knew she loved Lahn in a big way. Now I know the woman loves her husband seriously ’cause she’s not only cool livin’ here, she’s totally in her element. It’s like she’s lived here all her life.”
I would like the opportunity one day to witness her in her element.
“We’ll figure that out. First, next time you see Valentine, let her know we’re good to go and have her get in touch with me so I know when that’s gonna happen. I’m good to go too but that doesn’t mean I want green smoke to surround me and suddenly be gone before I say goodbye.”
I’ll be certain she forewarns you.
“Thanks, Frannie.”
And I must go. It’s late here and I wish to check in once more with Kristian and Brikitta before I’m abed.
“Right, sweetheart. Glad you floated into my consciousness and gave me the good news.”
I’m not in your consciousness, Noc, she informed him snootily, I’m gliding on an astral plane, though without my body. I’ve simply tuned in to your plane. You have my conscious as I’m in a trance. But I don’t have yours.
“You do know that makes no fuckin’ sense whatsoever,” he stated.
I’ll explain it more thoroughly over pizza.
Fuck yeah, she would.
“Right, go to bed, baby. And see you soon.”
Yes, Noc. Soon. Sleep well.
“You too, Frannie. Later.”
Uh…well, um…later.
He grinned and could actually feel it when he lost her.
Kristian had named his kid Frantz.
Noc liked the guy. Now he liked him more.
He drew the pillow closer and closed his eyes.
A week or so.
Then he’d finally be home.
And so would Frannie.
Chapter Thirteen
Welcome Home
Franka
“By the gods! Look at your garments!”
I whirled from the window, twisting my ankle as I did so and nearly crashing to the floor.
Just managing to prevent myself from doing something that incredibly mortifying, I stood blinking rapidly as I stared at Josette who was rushing through the door.
She was not dressed as me in preparation to be transported to our new world.
No, Valentine had brought her something very much different.
She was wearing trousers like Noc’s (he’d told me they were referred to as “jeans”). Up top she had on something that was frilly but skimpy. On her feet she had…
I shook my head as I took them in.
They were indescribable. I didn’t even know what they were made of. There was a sole that looked squishy and two straps that led from the juncture of her first and second toe along her foot, exposing the rest of it.
And that was all.
“They’re called flip-flops,” Valentine drawled, strolling in after Josette. “They seemed very…her.”
Josette stopped a foot away and sprung up and down on them, saying, “They’re very comfortable. But odd. I was walking and one came right off, flying halfway down the corridor. I have to scrunch my toes to keep them on.”
I could see this.
However, as strange as her shoes were, in fact her whole outfit (for a woman), she had it much better than I.
Before leaving to see to Josette, Valentine had painstakingly instructed me as I painted my face with a variety of brushes and wands, decreeing through it, “You’ll need to experiment in future, and when we’re in my world I’ll take you to an artist to share further techniques.”
I did this utilizing what Valentine said was “makeup or cosmetics, chérie.”
Although this took some time, and I wasn’t a complete novice (many in my world painted their faces with rouge or lip tint, powder on their eyes, kohl to line their lids, pencils to fill in brows—this happening everywhere, though it was worn especially heavy in Fleuridia), I was enchanted not only by the results but by the quality of the elements Valentine had provided. In my world, they were far more rudimentary.
But after that, Valentine had given me some other-world undergarments (which I liked very much), as well as a swatch of material and a curious metal band. She’d then glided out of the room to see to Josette and give me time to change, stating with a wave of her hand toward a box on a chair, “Those are your shoes, ma petite sorcière.”