Chapter 1: The Power of Goodbye
It was a cool, late October afternoon in New York. Fran Fine sat in the back of a Yellow Cab Company taxi, black tears from her mascara streaming down her face. She was wearing a dark violet, nurse-style short dress. Which was accessorized with a jet-black leather jacket and pumps. Her head full of brunette curls cascaded down her shoulders as she leaned back against the shiny, semi-comfortable backseat. Desperately, Fran tried to deal with the mixed emotions plaguing her mind.
'Why did my life have to get so complicated? I know that love is a hard game to play, but I'm tired of always losing. Mr. Sheffield has shattered my heart one too many times. This time his thoughtless words tore me apart and ripped me to shreds. There's too many broken pieces now and my heart is not some kind of puzzle that can be put back together. I don't know whether to be angry with him or heartbroken that he doesn't care. I feel like I'm a little of both. And then there are these other feelings I'm having, like maybe this is a relief. A wake up call to move on, because there is no way in hell I'm going to get with Mr. Sheffield. Fate just loves to screw me over. It's the very damn thing that brought me to that house—other than to sell "Shades of the Orient" makeup of course.'
The argument they had replayed in her mind as she wiped her eyes.
Flashback:
IF YOU WEREN'T SO AFRAID TO STEP ON THE GODFORSAKEN CRACKS ON THE SIDEWALK OF LIFE, THEN MAYBE THINGS WOULD BE OTHERWISE!
YOU DON'T NEED ME! I'M SURE YOU CAN FIND SOME LOWLIFE OFF THE STREET THAT WILL DO YOU JUST FINE! ALL YOU PROBABLY WANT IS SEX ANYWAY!
But I... love you. I thought that meant something to you.
Well I'm sorry Miss Fine, but I don't seem to feel the same way. I only think of us as good friends.
Then why did you say that you loved me on the trip back from Paris?
FOR THE LAST TIME IT WAS A NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE! I WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT SOMEONE CARED FOR YOU BEFORE YOU DIED. NO ONE WANTS TO FEEL UNWANTED!
WHY DID YOU SAY IT THEN? YOU HAD TO HAVE MEANT IT! YOU SURE AS HELL DON'T CARE ABOUT MY FEELINGS NOW!
I DIDN'T AND NEVER WILL MEAN IT! I TOOK IT BLOODY BACK DIDN'T I? SOMEONE WHO LOVES SOMEONE DOESN'T TAKE THINGS BACK! THE ONLY PERSON I EVER LOVED AND EVER WILL LOVE IS SARA! AND SHE'S DEAD! END OF STORY!
Fran's tears flowed like mad as she looked at him with deep sorrow in her eyes. She started towards the door.
Wait! Miss Fine...
Fran ran out of his office, sobbing heavily. Never, had he been so hateful and cruel. His words stabbed knives in her heart and she could feel her heart bleeding for him. She shoved some money in her jacket pocket from her purse, called a taxi and waited outside. He never came after her. When the taxi came, she knew she had to get away. Fran needed to have a drink badly, because being sober was too agonizing. So she was off to the bar.
Madonna's song "The Power of Goodbye" played on the radio in the taxicab. The lyrics made Fran think about Mr. Sheffield as she looked out the window at everything rushing by.
Your heart is not open so I must go
The spell has been broken? I loved you so
Freedom comes when you learn to let go
Creation comes when you learn to say no
You were my lesson I had to learn
I was your fortress you had to burn
Pain is a warning that something's wrong
I pray to God that it won't be long
Do you wanna go higher?
There's nothing left to try
There's no place left to hide
There's no greater power than the power of good-bye
Your heart is not open so I must go
The spell has been broken? I loved you so
You were my lesson I had to learn
I was your fortress
There's nothing left to lose
There's no more heart to bruise
There's no greater power than the power of good-bye
Learn to say good-bye
I yearn to say good-bye
There's nothing left to try
There's no more places to hide
There's no greater power than the power of good-bye
There's nothing left to lose
There's no more heart to bruise
There's no greater power than the power of good-bye
'I need to say farewell to Maxwell Sheffield. But it's not so easy. He's taken residence in my heart and I can't evict him.'
Fran looked down at her hands. Her fingernails were painted a vivid orange—but not all manicured and fancy like she would have regularly gotten done at Fashion Nails. Maggie painted her nails and Fran painted hers during a little girls-night-in they had. She smiled, remembering all the fun times she had with his children. Her smile soon faded, when she came back to reality. She was just the Nanny—nothing more. Fran fiddled with a silver ring that she had her right ring finger. She twisted it around a couple times and slid it on and off. She finally took it off she placed it on her left ring finger.
'Much better.'
The taxi stopped at a red light and Fran looked out the window to her right at a park. A father pushed his little girl on the swings and the mother stood beside, laughing with a real I'm-so-happy smile plastered on her face. The father stopped pushing the child after she got pretty high and kissed his wife. They then picked their daughter up off the swing and hugged her. The traffic light changed to green and the cab proceeded through the intersection. Fran watched the scenery through the window, as the joyful family soon faded behind her.
'I want a simple kid of life. Like theirs. But simple seems complicated, at least for me. I just wanna get married and have children and have a loving husband and just be happy. Is that so much to ask? Out of all the diamonds and jewels and castles and fame and fortune I could greedily wish for, all I dream of is a simple kind of life. All I want is the simple things, but I'm not even lucky enough to get that. Fate sure dealt me a shitty deck of cards. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this. I just want a family of my own. I want to experience true love and have someone love me back with the same compassion. I want to be happy and not just put on this face that is in a jar by my door and call it that. That face is a lie. As much of a lie as Mr. Sheffield really, truly loving me. I'm just a friend; no even friends call each other by their first names and don't verbally abuse them, so I guess I've been downgraded to his employee. So if he only thinks of me as another name on the payroll, Fran Fine is going to quit and Fran Fine doesn't need to get fired just to collect unemployment, because Fran Fine is going to find another job! You don't know how much it pains me just to love you, Maxwell Sheffield.'
Her eyes got glassy and she started to shed tears.
The taxi driver peered at her through his rear-view mirror. He was an older man, in his early 60's. His hair was a blondish color and was dusted with grays. The man was a little on the plump side and was wearing a dress shirt and tie with a dark blue blazer. Suspenders held up his gray trousers. His eyes were a chocolate brown and had a sparkle in them.
"Are you okay ma'am?" His voice was friendly, gentle. It calmed the anxious nerves in her body.
"No, no I'm not. The love of my life just told me where to go, so no I'm not okay. But, I think I'll get over it eventually," she said somberly.
"I'm sorry to here that, you seem like a very nice person Miss. I've had my share of bad luck this week too. My cousin Richard just died a few days ago," the taxi driver said.
"Oh, you poor man. Here I am crying over something so stupid and your cousin just died. My problem is not as important. I'm sorry for your loss," said Fran, sympathetically.
"Whoa, hey, I wouldn't exactly say that. Your problem is just like mine. Love is the reason death causes so much pain. It's the fact that we love them so much and they aren't here with us. But we will see them again in our afterlife. The point is, love hurts and you are hurting right now. Someone you love who is not loving you back is sometimes as wounding as if they died. Your significant other just doesn't know what he's missing," he clarified and smiled at her in the mirror.
"Thank you. You've made me feel a little better." In truth she did feel a little better, her thoughts were sorted out anyway.
"I'm glad. Don't worry your pretty little head about things though. Everything will work out for the good, I'm sure of it. Even if it's not him, you will find true love. Trust me," he said comfortingly.
"I sure hope so," she pleaded. "I'm tired of being alone."
Fran timidly entangled her fingers in her thick locks and gazed at the back of the seat in front of her. If you asked her the color or texture of the chair, she couldn't have answered you. No, because she wasn't looking at the chair. Her eyes burned through it and all she saw were the chaotic thoughts rushing through her head.
'It would be so much easier if I could just forget the day I ever met Mr. Sheffield.'
Little did she know, those words reflected her future.
