A FINE MISPUCHA

Chapter One

BY FJS

I don't own these characters; they still belong to Fran and Peter. I'll keep

playing with them till the lawyers tell me to stop.

I'd like to thank a very special young lady for her help in creating young Grace for this story. MRB, you are truly my Gracie muse! LYL!

Max stood in a corner sipping his scotch. He never used to hate these cast parties, but in the last year, he'd come to dread them. It was different when Sarah was alive. He'd show up with her on his arm, they'd spend the evening on the dance floor, she'd charm his backers. Now, he came alone, keeping an eye on his watch, praying for the night to end quickly. He began to slowly move around the room, talking with his backers, praising his cast members for a wonderful performance. It looked like his lighting director had been celebrating a bit too much tonight, and his date did NOT look too happy about it.

"Richard, don't ya think you've had enough?" He had just pulled another drink from the serving tray as the waiter walked by. "You've still gotta drive me home, ya know."

"Don't you worry, baby, I'll get you home."

"Not if you keep drinkin' THOSE, you're not."

"Look, Frannie, baby, I said don't worry. I've gotta talk to these guys for a few minutes, why don't you walk around and mingle, look pretty."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, whatevah. Come find me when you're done." She walked over to the bar and ordered a fruit juice spritzer, and stood over by the dance floor, watching everyone having a good time.

Max watched her for several minutes. He'd seen her around before, was it with the caterer? There was something about her that captivated him. He watched her walk away from Richard and his crew. She looked so sad, watching the couples on the dance floor. He put his drink on the bar and walked up behind her. "Would you care to dance?"

She glanced over at her date, who really even hadn't noticed she'd gone. "Sure, thanks." Max took her drink from her hand and sat it down next to his, then led her out onto the dance floor. As he took her in his arms, he wondered what he was doing. This was the closest he'd been to a woman since his wife died.

"So, you're here with your boyfriend?" She wasn't wearing a ring, and he found himself hoping she wasn't attached.

"No, he's not really my boyfriend. Just someone I go out with once in a while, but if you were to ask him, we've been together for years." She laughed. "How about you, you're not here alone, are ya?"

"Actually, yes, I am alone. My wife died about a year ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Now she understood the pain in his warm green eyes.

She rubbed his arm as they danced. Why did she feel so drawn to this man? She felt him pull her a bit closer, and laid her head on his shoulder. She knew it was a bit forward, and she hoped she wasn't sending the wrong message to him. She just felt an overwhelming urge to try to help ease his pain. They quietly swayed to the music. When the song ended, Fran looked back into his eyes.

"Thanks for the dance." She just couldn't walk away.

"Maybe one more?" He looked over at the lighting crew. "That is, if your date doesn't mind."

She glanced over her shoulder at Richard. "I don't think he even knows I'm gone."

Max began to move her around the dance floor, as far away from Richard as possible. "I've seen you around the theater before; don't you work with the caterer?"

"Very good. My sister has a catering business, and she talked me into working with her." She laughed. "She's pretty rough on help, so when we're between delivery people, I have to cook the food AND schlep it around for her."

"I think Richard's noticed you've gone." They looked over where he was standing. His buddies were pointing over towards the couple on the dance floor.

"I'd better go back. Oy, he's coming over here, I'd really better go." What was that in her eyes, fear?

"Are you sure? Will you be all right?"

"Yeah, I will, I'm going to have him take me to my parents, instead of my apartment. That way he can't..."

"Frannie, Whaddya think your doin'? Max, you makin' time with my girl? Come on, babe, we're leavin'!" He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

"I'd really rather dance a little first. This is the first time I've gotten to dance all night." She wanted to buy a little time.

"You wanna dance? Fine, we'll dance. You don't mind, do ya Max?"

He didn't want to let her go, especially not to him. "No, of course not. Thank you for the dance, Frannie."

She flashed a brilliant smile at him. "Thank YOU, Max." She watched him walk away, and then turned to her date. "What the hell was THAT all about?"

"I told ya to mingle, not to flirt." He pulled her into the middle of the dance floor.

"I wasn't flirting, I was dancing."

"That's sure as hell not what it looked like from where I was standing. Ask the guys, they saw ya, head on his shoulder, pressing up against him."

"I was NOT pressing up against him."

He pulled her roughly to him. "You were. Like this."

"Just take me home, Richard." She wasn't going to stand here and argue with an intoxicated man. "Or better yet, call me a cab."

"I thought you wanted to dance, baby."

"Would you stop calling me that? This isn't dancing. I just want to go home and go to bed." Damn, bad choice of words.

"Now THAT is the best idea you've had all night."

"I'm going to my parent's house tonight, Richard. Now, are you gonna call me a cab?" She tried to pull away, looking around for help from anyone. She saw Max talking to the bartender and pointing her way, and then he disappeared.

"Hey, Richard, the bartender says the next round's on the house, come on, man!" Oh, she could just kiss that bartender. She looked over at him and smiled. Well, maybe not. Richard let her go and headed toward the bar.

"Go get your coat, Frannie; we'll leave as soon as I have that free drink!" She headed over to the coat rack. As she pulled her jacket off the hanger, Max appeared behind her.

"Your cab's downstairs, you'd better hurry if you want to get away before he sees you."

"Thanks. I owe ya big time!" She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"You don't owe me a thing." He stroked her cheek, and then leaned in for a short kiss. "Just be safe."

She looked over at the bar, where Richard was downing his drink, and looking around the room for her. "I will. I'm outta here!" She hurried out the door and out the front door of the theater. The cab was sitting in front.

"You Frannie?"

"Yes, I am."

"Hop in, where to?"

"Queens. Kissena Boulevard." She laid her head back on the seat. As the cab pulled away, she saw Richard running out of the theater to catch her. She closed her eyes and pictured the face of her rescuer. Black curly hair, olive green eyes. She sighed. She couldn't believe she'd actually allowed him to kiss her. In all fairness, she had invited it, with that kiss on his cheek. She couldn't wait to see him again, but knew she wouldn't be able to work this job, not with Richard around. Tonight had been their last date. Why did she always pick such losers?

Thoughts of her haunted him. Who was she? He hadn't seen her since the night of the cast party. Was she all right? What was her name? Frannie. Was that short for something? He could see her face. Those chocolate brown eyes, that thick hair, the cascading curls. Why hadn't she been back to the theater? There was another woman, maybe it was her sister. He decided to chance it. He'd gone to the caterer and asked if she had a sister named Frannie. Lucky for him, she trusted him enough to give him her sister's phone number. Max picked up the phone and dialed. A sleepy voice answered, but he recognized it as her voice. She'd been up cooking since 4am, and had just lain down to nap. He was going out of town this weekend, but convinced her that he had to see her first. They agreed to dinner on Friday.

That Friday, Fran was awakened by the non stop ringing of her doorbell. "Oy, I get to sleep in ONE day a week, this betta be important!" She opened the door, and there stood her cousin, Monica, with a small child on her hip. "Mon, what's this? You call me yesterday, say you met some guy, and today you got a baby?"

"No, this is Grace. Remember I told ya I got that nanny job for that fancy schmancy producer? Well, this is his youngest. Grace, this is Frannie."

The little girl buried her face in Monica's neck. "She's not big on strangers; it'll take her a bit to warm up to ya."

"What are you doing here so early?"

"Well, I need a favor, this being your day off and all." She sat Grace down on the sofa, and opened the door, grabbing a small suitcase. "I need you to watch Gracie for me. Here's clothes, toys, oh, and her car seat. If I'm not back before 2:00, I need you to take her to this address and be there when the older kids come home from school."

"Monica! These kids don't know me! What's so important?"

"Ok, I won't be back this afternoon, I'm goin' upstate to get married."

"Wha? Yesterday you were all crazy over that Steve guy you met at the park!"

"THAT is who I'm marrying."

"You're nuts, you know that? Ok, so tell me about these kids. This is Grace, how old is she, does she have any allergies, what does she like to eat? And what about the older kids, what are their names, same questions for them, oh, and what time do they come home from school?"

"Ok, Gracie is two and a half, no allergies, well, none of the kids have any that I've been told about. And what she likes? It varies from day to day. Brighton is six and a half. He's not a bad kid, just very high maintenance. You gotta keep on him every minute. Then there's Margaret, she just turned eleven. That kid never says two words, just buries herself in books."

"What about the parents?"

"Well, their mother died last year, and the father is pretty quiet. He works a LOT, and when he's home, shuts himself up in his office. The kids see Niles more than their own father."

"And who's this Niles?"

"Oh, HE'S the butler. He's a bit older, but hooo haaa, what a sexy man! He's blond, got these piercing blue eyes."

"So why didn't ya go after him?" She laughed. Her cousin was usually after any man.

"I tried, but I think he's got a thing for Mr. Sheffield's business associate, but SHE'S got a thing for Mr. Sheffield."

"Really? Dish!"

"O.K. She, C.C., was a friend of Mr. Sheffield's wife. When the wife died, her dear friend swooped in and tried to comfort poor Mr. Sheffield, but he doesn't act like he notices. He doesn't notice anything. I wear short skirts around the house, he never gives me a second look. Now, NILES is another story. "

"So why isn't Niles watching the kids?"

"He's got some Butler Association meeting, and won't be home until sometime tomorrow."

"So, let me get this straight. I have to go to this house, wait for these kids who AREN'T expecting me, and I have to stay there overnight? Monica, I have a date tonight!"

"Frannie, this is important! Oh, and you gotta tell them I'm not comin' back."

"When's the father coming home, you still haven't mentioned him."

"He's gonna be away until Monday morning."

"So, what you're really sayin' is that I need to be there all weekend. Good thing I don't need to work with Nay this weekend. Ok, you got a key to this place?"

Monica handed her cousin a set of keys, gave her a kiss and headed out the door. Fran looked at the green-eyed toddler sitting on her couch. What had she gotten herself into? She needed to call Max and cancel their date. Hopefully, he'd call her again.

What was she going to tell him? That her schmuck cousin dumped this sweet child on her, to run off and marry a guy she met yesterday? No sense in giving him THAT much of a glimpse into her meshugana family. Just say she had to watch her cousin's kids. Yeah, that would work; her cousin had to go out of town. That sounds reasonable enough. She picked up the phone and dialed his cell number, not sure if he'd be at home or at work. She cancelled the date, and asked for a rain check. She detected disappointment in his voice; she hated doing this to him at the last minute. She looked around her small apartment.

"Well, Gracie, wouldn't you feel more comfortable in your own home? Let me get dressed, and we'll get you home." She dressed quickly, and threw together an overnight bag with her makeup curlers and a few changes of clothes. She'd be there two nights, well, maybe three, and with small kids, you never know WHAT they're gonna spill on you. She learned that from her sister's kids. She picked up the child and they took the car seat down to her Jeep, and then came back up for the suitcases with clothes and toys. "OK, Sweetie, you ready to go home?" The child nodded. She scooped her up and planted her on one hip, and grabbed the suitcases. "Oy, now I know why I don't have kids. All this schlepping!"

She strapped the toddler in her car seat and headed across the bridge to Manhattan. She checked the address her cousin had given her. "Park Avenue, huh, kiddo?" She made her turn and headed for the address. It didn't take her long to find the right house. She flipped a U-turn and parked in front. "I guess we should ring the doorbell, first, you think?" She pressed the button. No answer. She pulled out the keys her cousin had given her, and checked the labels on them. "This looks like the one." She unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Let's get your stuff, Angel, and then we'll go inside." They went back to the Jeep and removed the suitcases, and brought them inside. "Can you show me your room, Gracie?" She nodded and headed up the stairs. She stopped at the landing and waited for Fran, then headed down the hall. She stopped at a room and reached for the doorknob. "Is this it, honey?" Fran opened the door. It definitely looked like a little girl's room. She placed her suitcase on the bed, dropping her own bag on the floor.

"Where's Monica's room, Gracie?" Gracie had sat on the floor and started to play with her toys. Fran let her play, and picked up the bag from the floor. "Wait right here, honey, I'll be right back." Fran went into the hall and looked at the different doors. Ok, time to explore. She tried the room next door. This must be the boy's room. What was his name? She pulled the note out of her pocket. Brighton. She moved to the next room, this must be Monica's room. She looked in the closet. Yes, definitely Monica's. She tossed the suitcase on the bed and went back to check on Grace. The little girl's face lit up when she entered the room. That's progress. She got on the floor and began to play with the child. She looked at her watch. "Are you hungry, Gracie?"

"Cookie."

"You want a cookie? Well, let's go downstairs and see if Frannie can find the kitchen. I'm not sure about a cookie, but I'm sure we can find you a snack of some kind."

She picked up the little girl and headed downstairs, exploring as she went. This looks like it might be the other girl's room, and that master bedroom was HUGE. She turned down the hallway in the foyer and found the dining room, which led her to the kitchen. She loved this room! Much nicer than her kitchen in her cozy apartment. "You know, sweetie, it's close enough to lunch time, how about a light nosh, then we can take a nap?" She sat the child on a chair and prepared a light lunch for the both of them. Monica was right, this child was a good eater. By the time she was finished, the child was yawning.

"Ai, angel, you're making me sleepy. How about we go upstairs and take a nap before the other kids come home?" She scooped her up and headed up the back stairs. "A shortcut, nice." She put Grace in her bed, but she immediately began to cry and reach for Fran. "Ok, how about you just come with me." She carried her to Monica's room, and lay down with her. Gracie liked this much better. She snuggled up close and gave Fran a wet kiss on the cheek. Fran set the alarm for 2:00, so she could be sure to be awake when the older kids came home, then she and Grace cuddled up and drifted off into a restful sleep.

When the alarm went off, Fran moved for it quickly, so it wouldn't wake up Grace. She got up and straightened her hair, checked her makeup, and headed down the back stairs to the kitchen. She was sure the kids would want a snack when they came home, and she needed to scope out the dinner situation. She may have to go to the store. She opened the fridge and took a quick mental inventory, then went for the cupboards. She felt bad going through this family's things, but since Monica had just dumped the poor child in her lap, she really had no choice. When she finished in the kitchen, she moved through the dining room toward the living room, as she got into the foyer, she heard the front door opening.

"Who are you?" That must be Brighton.

"Hi, Honey, I'm Fran, Monica's cousin. She asked me to come and take care of you."

"Is she OK? She didn't tell us you were coming."

"You're Maggie, right? She came to my apartment this morning with Grace. She had to go do something, and said she wouldn't be, uh, here in time to be here when you got home. You kids hungry? I've got a snack ready for you in the kitchen."

"Where's Niles?"

"Some Butler Association thing, he won't be back until tomorrow."

"Gracie's going to hate that you're here. She doesn't like strangers." Maggie put her books down on the table.

"We're getting along pretty well. We played, we ate, we napped. Come on, why don't you kids bring your stuff upstairs and get out of those uniforms, then we'll come downstairs, you'll have a snack, do your homework, and we can decide what to do about dinner. Right now, I need to check on Grace." She started up the stairs. The children looked at each other. This one didn't seem so bad. The followed her up the stairs and went into their rooms to change. Fran opened her door and looked at the sleeping child in the bed. She pushed the door open a bit more, and Grace turned over and looked at her.

"HI!" She reached out her arms to Fran.

"Oh, hi, Sweetie, did you have a nice nap?" She bent down to pick her up. The child giggled and wrapped her arms tightly around her neck.

Maggie stuck her head in the room. "Was that Gracie laughing? She NEVER laughs. Well, she used to laugh all the time, but after Mom..."

"Monica said she died last year. You must miss her a lot. And poor Gracie, she was just a baby. All she knows is that her mommy isn't around."

"Yeah, we miss her a lot. We didn't even get to say goodbye. We went to school that day, and she was fine. Then Niles came and picked us up early and took us to the hospital. We could see Father talking to her through a window, but they wouldn't let us go in. Then some nurse went in and said something to him, and they came out, Father never looked at us. Niles told us he was taking us home, and I looked back at Mom. They were covering her with a sheet. I was the only one that knew. When Father came home, he went into his office and locked the door. Niles told us that Mom wasn't coming home, we hardly saw Father."

"Sweetie, I'm sure your daddy loved your mother very much, he probably just had a hard time dealing with losing her."

"I know, but we lost our dad, too. The day after the funeral, I heard C.C. telling dad to either send us away to boarding school or get us a nanny. Why can't dad take care of us, Fran? Why do we have to have strangers watching us, they don't love us. I thought Monica did, but she left us, too, didn't she?"

Fran sat down and shifted Grace to one side. She patted the bed for Maggie to sit with her. "Come here, angel." Maggie sat down, and Fran put her arm around her. "Sometimes, dads just aren't good at taking care of kids. At least he didn't take the boarding school suggestion, huh? Monica said you'd had a lot of nannies, mainly because you kids chase them off."

"Is that what happened to Monica?"

"No, Mon loves you kids, that's why she got ME to take care of you. She met someone, and got married. She didn't leave because of anything you kids did."

"You think our dad will ever get married again?"

"Honey, I don't know your dad. I'm sure he's still hurting, but, maybe someday, if he meets someone that he can love, and that loves you kids."

She giggled. "Well, that eliminates C.C.!"

Brighton came running into the room and jumped on the bed.

"Brighton, you're not supposed to do that, remember what Monica said?"

He started jumping up and down "Well, she's not here."

Fran grinned and sat Gracie on the floor, then winked at Maggie. She reached behind her and grabbed Brighton's legs as he bounced, and flipped him onto his back. "Maybe she said something like 'Brighton, you could get hurt doing that'?"

"More like she'd hurt me if she ever caught me doing that again. I think she was kidding though."

"Oh, I'm sure she was. Ok, who's ready for a nosh?"

Brighton climbed off the bed and nudged his older sister. "She talks funny too. Monica taught us some of those words, um, yish words."

Fran laughed. "You mean Yiddish?"

"Yeah, that's it, Yiddish. We use the words to mess with dad sometimes."

"Why don't you two go get your homework, and we'll go downstairs and work on it together. Start thinking about what you want for dinner, we might have to walk down to the store and pick up a few things."

"We aren't going out? We always go out when Niles isn't here."

"Why?"

"Because Dad can't cook, and neither can any of the nannies."

"Well, my darlings, you are in luck. I CAN cook, that's my job. My sister has a catering business, and I'm one of her chefs, so think about what you want, tonight, I'm all yours."

The kids grabbed their books and followed Fran down the back stairs. She made them all sandwiches on the home made rolls she found in the refrigerator. After their snack, the kids decided on Mexican for dinner, so they walked down to the local market and picked up the necessary items. Fran also stopped at the deli next door to the market and picked up some bagels and cream cheese for breakfast. She was SURE there were no fresh bagels in that house.

When they got back to the house, Fran poured the kids each a glass of juice and sat the three of them at the kitchen table. Grace was coloring, and Maggie and Brighton started on their homework.

"Monica always had us do our homework in our rooms." Brighton sat back in his chair and looked over at Fran, who was arranging her cooking area.

"Well, I thought this would be nicer. That way, if you need help, I'm right here, and when you're done, we can sit and talk, get to know each other better. Now, I know you're stalling, get busy, B.!"

Maggie looked over at her brother and grinned. Did Fran have his number or WHAT? Fran put the beans in the pressure cooker, and began simmering the meat. She sat down and helped Grace color while the beans and meat were cooking, and helped Brighton with his spelling words. Maggie was flying through her homework. Fran checked it, and everything was perfect.

"Maggie, honey, this is great! Why don't you get a book to read, or better yet, you wanna help me chop vegetables?"

"I DO have a book I need to read for next week, but I have all weekend, I can really help?"

"Sure, Sweetie. I'll have you chop the peppers and tomatoes for the rice." She showed her how small to make the pieces, and Maggie started slowly chopping.

"Mom used to let me help her." Brighton looked up from his homework at the mention of his mother. "It was so much fun, we'd come in and make a huge mess, then Niles would come in and complain."

"Yeah, but Niles loved Mom. He was only kidding." Brighton smiled at his sister.

"Everybody loved Mom." Maggie sighed and smiled back and her brother.

"What was she like?"

Maggie's face lit up. "She was funny and smart, and pretty. She used to sit with us like this, too. She always wanted us close to her. She loved to read to us and snuggle with us, and sing to us. She loved to sing."

"But she sang funny." Brighton wrinkled his nose.

Maggie laughed. "Yeah, you're right. She was always off key."

"You must really miss her."

Her smiled faded. "Yeah, we do. I think Father misses her more, though. He won't talk about her, and works all the time now."

"And he never plays with us like he did when Mom was around. He just keeps hiring these awful nannies."

"Hey, it's better than boarding school!"

"Wha?"

"That's where C.C. wants dad to send us. I think she just wants us out of the way so she can have him to herself."

"And you don't want your dad to get remarried, right?"

Maggie shook her head. "No, that's not it at all. Brighton and I talked about it, and if Dad ever meets someone that he falls in love with, we want him to be happy again, like he was with Mom. SHE'D want him to be happy."

"So, what's the problem with this C.C. person?"

Brighton laughed. "You've never met her, have you? Anyway, Dad doesn't love her."

Fran walked over to the pressure cooker and turned off the fire. The beans were done. She grabbed a pan and began browning the rice, then added the vegetables that Maggie had prepared. Once she added the water and tomato sauce, she covered the pan and left it to simmer.

"B., how'd you like to mash the beans?"

He looked up from his math assignment. "I can help, too? COOL!" He got up and moved his chair to the island, where Fran had set the pan of beans. She showed him how to use the potato masher, and then handed it to him.

"Careful, honey, don't burn yourself, that pot might still be kinda hot." She had wrapped it in a towel to protect the boy from burning his arms. "OK, Maggie, how about grating some cheese for me?" Maggie smiled and nodded. This was fun, she hadn't had this much fun for a long time.

While Maggie grated the cheese, Fran checked the progress Brighton was making with the beans. "That's perfect, B.,thanks. Now, back to your math." She moved the pot back to the stove and added a chunk of lard, some salt and cumin. The kitchen was beginning to smell like a Mexican restaurant. She stirred the beans and placed them on the back burner to simmer. She opened a can of enchilada sauce and poured it into a pot, then added some beef broth for extra flavor. She began to simmer this to reduce it down before using it on her enchiladas. She walked over to the table to check on Brighton's math work.

"The first two rows are right, Sweetie, but you look like you got distracted here. Check these again." She looked over at Grace, who had started to whimper softly and reach for her. "What's the matter, angel?" She reached over and picked her up, which quieted the child immediately. "You just needed some cuddling, that's all." She shifted Grace to her hip and walked over to the stove to stir the sauce.

"Is this right, Fran?" Brighton brought his paper over to her.

"Much better, how much more do you have to do?"

"The rest of this page. Can't I do it later? Monica never made us to our homework first."

"I'm not Monica, am I? No more arguing, Mister, the quicker you get it done, the quicker you can go play."

He smiled brightly at her. She reminded him of his mom. "Ok, Fran."

Max opened the front door and was met by the aroma of dinner cooking. 'I thought Niles was off tonight', he thought. He hung up his coat and put his briefcase down on the table, then made his way down the hall and through the dining room. He stopped in his tracks as he heard Fran's distinctive voice. 'She said she had to babysit tonight, maybe she brought the children with her'. He inched closer to the kitchen door. The only voices he heard were those of his son, daughter, and Fran. Then he heard Grace giggle, a sound he hadn't heard in a year. He opened the kitchen door a few inches and peered in. She was standing with her right side to the stove, with Grace on her left hip. She would stir a pot on the stove, then set the spoon down and tickle his daughter, who erupted in giggles and hugged her tightly. His thoughts drifted back to Sarah. This scene looked like the ones he came home to every day.

"Ok, I think I got it now, can you check this?"

"Sure, B." She walked over to the table where his son was working on his homework, and his daughter was reading. "Hey, you got it!" She held up her hand for a high five. After he slapped her hand, he hugged her around the waist.

"Thanks, Fran! Can I go play my video game now?"

"I don't know, B., CAN you?"

He laughed. "You're tough. Ok, MAY I go play my video game?"

"Sure, Sweetie, dinner's in about 30 minutes, you wanna take this timer up with you?" He nodded and grabbed the timer. "You know how to set it?"

"Yeah, just turn it till the line is on 30, right?"

"You got it. Maggie, why don't you take your stuff upstairs, then you can help me finish dinner and set the table."

"Cool, Ok, Fran!" She got up, stacked all the books, and carried them upstairs.

Fran looked at Grace and smiled. "I have no clue what my meshugana cousin was talkin' about. You are three great kids. You want to color some more, angel?" She tried to put Grace down, but the child was having none of it. She started to cry and cling to Fran. "Ok, Ok, you can stay here for a minute, but I gotta roll these enchiladas, and I need two hands." She returned to the stove to check her sauce. As she was stirring, Max took this time to quietly enter the kitchen and sneak up behind her.