Chapter 2: Drink Away Your Troubles

Fran walked into the dimly lit, one-floor bar called "Mickey's." It was located underneath some various other businesses in the building. Because of its site, it was only open late night and early morning hours. Mickey's was a fairly pricey joint to go to, but it was cozy and it had good drinks. Plus, Fran didn't mind using up her cash as long as she had enough for some cigarettes later. The bar was brick inside with little lights on the walls. There was a lounge area with big comfy chairs, tables to sit at, a karaoke/band stage and the bar was off in the corner with a counter and stools to sit at. Fran's heels clicked on the wood floor as she went over and sat on one of the barstools, not really paying attention to anything.

"Whiskey Sour," she said flatly to the bartender.

"Coming right up," confirmed the bartender and he went off to mix the drink.

Glasses clanked behind the counter and there was a strong smell of liquor in the air.

Fran unzipped her jacket and rested her head on her hand, waiting patiently for her drink. Normally, she'd want to rush the bartender, but she was just glad to be out of that stuffy cab and away from the Sheffield residence. As for a bar, the environment was surprisingly relaxing.

"Nanny Fine?" a voice said a few feet away.

'There's only one person who calls me that—Miss Babcock. Oh God, just what I need now!'

C.C. was sitting just a few chairs down from her, clutching a Cherry Rum in her hand. She casually walked over to Fran and sat next to her. C.C. was wearing a beige pantsuit.

'She even looks professional when she's drinking.'

"Fancy me seeing you here... why the long face Nanny Fine?" questioned C.C after looking at Fran's pained expression.

'Whoa... wait a second. C.C.? Being nice to me? Oh, that's right she's drinking.'

"I just had a fight with Mr. Sheffield. He said some very mean things to me," said Fran in a voice very small, that she didn't even recognize it as herself.

The bartender handed Fran the drink, she gulped it down and asked for another.

"Oh Nanny Fine, he's an asshole. Try doing Broadway business with him. The guy passed on 'Cats,' which was not at all my decision. He just says it was, because he doesn't want to look like the dumb one. He would be nowhere without me," says C.C. reassuringly.

"But I love him and he doesn't love me," she sobbed.

"Take me and Niles. All we do is crack jokes at each other all day long. I feel like a stupid little girl in fourth grade who has a crush on a boy, but is mean to him to hide it," confessed C.C. "Of course the 'Ice Queen' liking someone is probably going to be the gossip of the day for you."

"I know you like Niles," said Fran. "It's no surprise to me."

"What?" exclaimed a shocked C.C., staring wide-eyed at Fran.

The bartender gave Fran another drink and she sipped it.

"I know you like Niles. I'm his best friend. I know what goes on between you two. Except of course he says that he despises you, which I doubt is the case. I saw that kiss and Niles told me about the whole chicken incident," explained Fran.

"No wonder you were laughing along with Niles the next week when he kept on saying, 'Oh Babcock, you're so FOWL!' Well I guess the cat's outta the bag now!" C.C. groaned in disgust.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm the only one who knows and Mr. Sheffield is way to dense to realize anything," reassured Fran.

"Tell me about it," grumbled C.C.

"Listen," said Fran.

"What?" C.C. questioned.

"The music. That guitarist is pretty good," said Fran pointing to the performance stage.

C.C. ran her fingers through her blonde strands before turning around to look at the man.

There was a young man in his 20's with spiky orange hair and red tips, sitting on a stool on the stage and slowly strumming his guitar. He played very well.

C.C. turned back towards Fran.

"Yes, he is good, except for that hair. It looks like flames coming out of his head," said C.C. making a face.

"I think it's hott," commented Fran.

"Right..."said C.C. sarcastically. "Anyways, It's nice to have some music while you drink. Which reminds me, I need to order up. How about you Fran? I'll pay."

"Well, if you put it that way. What the hell? Sure," decided Fran.

"Hey, bartender, we'll both take some Vodka, doesn't matter what's with it, just make it strong," requested C.C.

C.C. tapped her fingers impatiently on the marble counter while waiting for her drink.

"Hey, Miss Babcock?" asked Fran.

"You can call me C.C., Fran," suggested C.C.

"Oh ok, C.C., don't you... don't you ever... you know... wish that you had a family?" questioned Fran.

"Nanny Fine I know that my parents aren't all that friendly with me, but I'm not an orphan," said a confused C.C.

"No, no... I mean like, your own family. Like a husband and children and all that. You know, we're not all that young anymore," Fran said looking at C.C. seriously.

"You know, for one thing I do know all of the names of Maxwell's children. The oldest is Maggie and then the boy is Brighton and then there's little Gracie. The truth is I really don't mind children and since you are so much friendlier and you are their nanny, I figured I didn't need to try to get them to like me. You know of course that they like you better and I know they do. I have no problem with that, I really don't. As to your answer to the question, I guess I have always wanted a husband and a child. In past years that wasn't as much important to me as it probably was for you. I always put my career first. That's just how I was. Being successful and making good money was always my top priority. I figured later on that I would find someone and get married and have children. I can tell you one thing that no matter what Maxwell, you, or Niles think I was never in love with Maxwell. A crush on him would be about it. Of course he is handsome and is a millionaire. What's not to like? Earlier, I felt that it would be nice to marry him, but now I think I'd rather not. Of course, I don't need his money, but it would be a nice extra. If I could ever choose again for love or money... I would have chosen love," confesses C.C.

C.C.'s eyes got watery and she started to cry.

"I just wanna be loved, you know?" said C.C., who looked at Fran and then closed her eyes.

C.C. tilted her head down and covered her eyes with her hand. Fran gave her a hug.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't have either," said Fran.

"You have the love from your family. I never really had parents or anyone that actually cared about me," whined C.C.

"I care about you," comforted Fran.

"Thank you," said C.C. "What happened between you and Maxwell? Please tell me."

"Mr. Sheffield made it clear to me earlier that there is nothing between us," explained Fran, with a look of sorrow on her face. She tried to hold back her tears, but was unsuccessful and a few fell.

"I can't believe that Maxwell doesn't realize how good of a person you really are. That's just sad. Someone will though Fran, someone will," said C.C., patting Fran's shoulder.

They didn't notice that their drinks were already sitting on the counter.

"C'mon, C.C., let's drink away our troubles!" recommended Fran, grabbing her glass and attempting a smile.

C.C. grabbed her glass.

"I'm all up for that," decided C.C.

They raised their glasses and clanked them together.

"Cheers!" they both said and grinned. Then to the bartender, "Keep 'em coming."

After conversing and drinking for a while, they decided it was time to go. By then, Fran was pretty drunk and C.C. was only a little tipsy, because she could hold the alcohol better.

C.C. hopped off the stool.

"Do you need a ride Fran?" offered C.C. "I'm gonna get a taxi."

Fran tried to get down, but fell and C.C. sort of caught her. She helped her walk safely outside of the bar.

"No, I'm gonna walk up a couple blocks and get some cigarettes. That lil' convenient store on the corner next to the Laundromat has 'em pretty cheap." Fran slurred her words.

C.C. winced at trying to figure out what Fran had said. All she heard was "cigarettes."

"Okay, well make sure you get a taxi," ordered C.C.

Fran nodded her head in agreement.

After making sure that Fran would do as she said, C.C. walked into a phone booth to call a cab for herself.

Fran then started up the sidewalk going towards the convenient store, feeling very dizzy and having no clue whatsoever of what fate had in store.


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