Oh, Homeland. You've let a character go, which is fine. But how can he have been the Center of the Universe from S3-S6, and simply disappear in every way in S7? I'm disappointed.
Shirtsleeves rolled up, Dante leaned over to pour Franny some more milk.
"A frown? Seriously? A frown in my house?" he asked.
Franny nodded, her mouth full of chocolate chips. Carrie, squinting through the Adderall and Seroquel haze, thought for a moment about Dante's refrigerator. Had she ever met a bachelor that kept fresh milk in his fridge all the time? Well, she guessed there had been one, but she couldn't recall his name.
And then there was the electric griddle. Her dad had one of these, but she'd never met another bachelor who used one. Maybe it was his ex-wife's, she thought abstractedly.
Franny smiled wanly, and added more chocolate chips to the pancakes.
"You've done this before," Carrie said.
"My ex has a niece," Dante said smoothly. "It used to be fun to take care of her. Now, she's the quintessential teenager."
"Um." Carrie said. Once again, there was that feeling of having forgotten something. Must be the drugs.
"You know you're welcome to stay here, right? While you're on the lam."
"Oh, I can get a place," Carrie said brightly. "With my credit cards."
"At this point, you're borrowing from Peter to pay Paul."
Carrie recoiled as if slapped. "What did you say?"
Dante smiled and flipped a pancake. "You don't need to do that. Stay here."
Carrie sat on the couch, suddenly, as if a plug had been pulled.
"Dante? I think they're done," Franny trebled from over the kitchen island.
"Oh, here I come, sweetheart. Don't touch that, it's hot. Here's a plate..." Dante grabbed a plastic spatula and began removing pancakes from the griddle. "These are small. How many do you want?"
Franny, thinking only of chocolate chips, said,"Five."
"A quintet of pancakes, and syrup!" Dante said cheerfully. "Hope you can eat all these before your appetite peters out."
"Too much sugar," Carrie said, dazedly. What was she forgetting? It was like the most important thing or person in her life had gone missing, somehow, and she had forgotten what it was.
"Dante," she called weakly. When he had Franny set up at the table, he came over and sat next to her.
"I know I've been... off my meds, or on the wrong meds, but... do you have any idea about what I might be forgetting?"
Dante's handsome features were held in a carefully inscrutable position.
"Nope," he said.
"I'm serious. I feel like I've let go of something. Something important. And I feel incomplete."
"Well, when Franny goes to sleep, we can have sex," Dante said brightly. "That might help."
Carrie smiled. She thought that was the best idea she'd heard in a long time.
"Yes. Whatever it is I've forgotten, that will help me care less about it."
Dante smiled. "Great. Want a pancake?"
