Author's Note: Hi. Updating daily is easier than I thought it would be. My writer's block is trying to return but I'm pushing through. My parents' car is fixed and although I ended up surrendering most of my check to help pay for the numerous repairs, I'll be able to keep the upcoming one fully. So, I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to see the movie this weekend after all as long as I don't get sick again…or snap and murder my siblings. They're in the lazy, bratty stage and I'm slowly but surely coming to my Wit's End. Hopefully getting out of the house this weekend will help me gain some traction again…

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

Helen's POV

"Helen, dear…I'm sorry that we haven't been able to get together since the Wedding but things have been absolutely hectic. Rufus and I are planning on going on a cruise for our anniversary and I'm sure you remember how much of a strain that can be. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I saw Francis with another woman in the market. After they shopped, he invited her to dinner tonight at Rossini's. It seemed to be quite the tete a tete and I wanted you to hear it from a friend instead of someone else…"

Margie Jankowski was anything but my friend but her Voicemail had motivated me to get out of the house, shame be damned. It had only been 5 weeks since he turned his back on me. Frank couldn't have possibly found a quality woman, already! He had been with me: the immaculate housekeeper, the gourmet chef, the mother of his now demented children! He was probably with some Stark Street creature who had found a decent dress in the dumpster. I simply had to see who he thought could take my place so quickly…

"Table for one, please. I'll choose where."

"Right away, ma'am."

I had found a yellow floral dress in the back of my closet, as well as the fur coat I had inherited from my great grandmother. I had put it away for safekeeping when those paint throwing radicals had been gallivanting around but tonight was the night to bring it back out. Sensible beige flats and my old diamonds pulled my ensemble together, as well as the lovely permanent I had gotten at the Clip n Curl. I could see people whispering under the dryers but I ignored them. I am Helen Mazur, a still shining example of a quality Burg woman, despite the callous actions of my former family. I am above any petty nonsense that they could…

I had a clear view of him and the hussy from my table. She was skinny as a rail and her wild graying black hair was barely contained in its twist. She had on a purple v-neck sweater, a slate gray skirt, and black leather boots that left far too much leg exposed, even in the white tights. A thin rainbow colored scarf was wrapped around her neck, the ends hanging behind her and she only had plain gold studs in her ears for jewelry. Instead of a glass of wine, she held a tumbler of whiskey and she was looking at Frank fixedly, like he was the most interesting person on Earth. What could possibly be so interesting about him? Honestly, I spent the majority of our marriage bored by him. Fortunately, the music was low enough for me to easily eavesdrop on their soft conversation.

"…we've actually met before, Francis. My posting was a field hospital right near the border. One day, I think it was July 30th, I was hanging sheets up to dry when I heard a rustle in the grasses, along with a very nasty cough. Now, I don't know about my fellow nurses but when I was over there, I didn't care if you were Victor Charlie or Joe Schmo, I was going to treat you. Before I could investigate, this man stumbled out of the grass, walking wounded. His fatigues were ripped and he had lost his shirt, making it easy to see his tags and all the mud he had managed to fall in, as well as a hastily bandaged gunshot wound on his side. The only other thing that was recognizable was his eyes. They were a bright, sweet baby blue and I couldn't look away from them. Of course, the soldier didn't give me much choice in the matter because he collapsed face first into my lap and murmured…"

"…you're too fucking gorgeous to be in this hellhole, Angel. Get out as quick as you can. Mother of God, I remember now. I had just gone deep behind enemy lines and had been shot, cut, beaten, and thrown in a ditch for dead. I had managed to set my leg and climb out, heading south towards the border. I swear to God, I thought you were an angel guiding me through the gates. I could only see your eyes and your hair going all over the place. Everything else around me was white." Frank finished with an amazed smile.

"That's because you were hallucinating, sugar. You had a fever of 104." She deadpanned, setting them off into laughter.

Sugar? What kind of woman called their man that? She must be from somewhere in the South. Her voice certainly sounded gravelly enough and she had actually enlisted in the Army back then? War was men's business. Sure, we could send care packages or even help in a factory someplace but the front lines were for men. And she was actually old enough to be over there? She must have gotten some work done like that Barndhart woman. No one aged that gracefully without a little help…

"Well, I'm gonna stick with the whole angel idea. You certainly fit the bill."

"You certainly are a charmer, Mr. Plum. How any woman in her right mind could let you get away is beyond me."

"Her loss is your gain. At least I hope so…"

"Oh, believe me, it is. My ex notwithstanding, I know how to find and keep a good man when he comes around. You're pretty much stuck with me, Sweet Blue Eyes. Get used to it."

"I intend to."

My heart leapt into my throat as Frank shifted in the booth and pulled her into a kiss. It wasn't completely lewd but obviously there was some heat between them, heat that was well beyond any practical use at their ages. Distantly, I could remember Frank kissing me like that and I couldn't help but feel a little pain now. While I had to languish in social exile, he was moving on and moving forward with little to no hesitation. The huss…his date pulled away first but let her fingers slip into his unruly hair, tenderly detangling it.

"You kiss as good as you look."

"I'm a little out of practice."

"Kissing's like making a good soufflé. Once you manage to do it once, it's hard to forget how and what you do forget, you can learn again with a little practice. You can practice on me anytime."

I'd seen and heard enough. Putting my coat back on, I made to head for the door and ended up clipping a passing waiter. His tray hit the floor with a bang (thankfully nothing splattered on me) and all eyes went to me immediately, including Frank's. A flash of pain went through them but it faded to indifference. His date looked at me too and her verdant gaze hardened as she connected the dots. With grace but obvious possession, she put a hand on his trembling right forearm, rubbing gentle circles with her thumb until he met her gaze.

"Come on. We'll have dessert at my place."

Frank nodded and helped her into her bright red coat and black babushka. She straightened his coat collar and with a last chaste kiss, they left hand in hand. After watching Big Blue drive away, I decided to sit back down.

Humiliation and heartbreak is not a good reason to miss a hot Italian meal.