FRANK'S TURN
On the morning Aila Blane experienced her non-hangover, Frank Donovan had just risen from bed as well. However, unlike Aila, today was a dead day. He had somehow managed to squeeze out a day off and he was using it to its fullest extent. They were few and far between. Frank stretched just the slightest and shifted his body weight. He felt a slight chill in the air and opened his eyes. Ah. No cover on a nude body. That would do it every time. He wanted to grab the sheet and pull it over him, but the girl lying next to him had effectively wrapped her body in it. It reminded him of a mummy's shroud. What exactly had he done last night? Backtracking in his mind while he began tugging gently on the sheet [his ass was about a third covered now], his evening slowly began to come to him.
He had had Darien for the past month while Logan and her husband were taking an extended vacation. He dropped off the kid and had actually started toward his lonely twelfth floor apartment. Without Darien there, it was too quiet. The more time he spent alone, the more time he spent ruminating over the girl who got away. He often kicked himself for thinking of Aila Blane all the time. How often in three years did she think of him? Zero. Steering himself away from home, he thought he could benefit from a good, stiff drink. He nearly laughed himself silly when he strolled into the very bar where he had met Aila. Could he help it if he liked the place? It was actually where he came to drink all the time before he met her. That's right. It's my place. It was my place before I laid eyes on her. Eyes. Ice blue. Jesus. It followed him everywhere. When he first met Alex, he wasn't sure how well he would get on with her when he saw that she had Aila's eyes. He moved through the crowd of regulars, thankful that none of them were on his team. He didn't go out much now, there wasn't time, but he rued the day he accidentally ran into one of the crew.
Instead of selecting a stool at the bar, he chose a table in a far, dark corner. He ordered his usual from a pretty server. When she left him alone, he dug out his cell phone, and felt a smile spreading on his face. Apparently before Darien went to bed, she had somehow convinced her mother to allow her to send him a text message. The message nearly screamed at him: GOOD NIGHT, DAD! As much as Aila did, he mourned his child's babyhood. She was eight going on thirty and he felt old, old, old. To humor the kid, he sent back a brief message of his own. She wouldn't see it until tomorrow morning, but that was all right. He then tucked away his phone and waited patiently for his drink. Just before it was brought to him, he recognized laughter coming from close behind him. Curious, he turned in his seat to see who it was. There were two women sitting together a few tables behind him. One was a blonde, the other a redhead. The redhead he knew from his building. Her apartment was on the tenth floor. They had a normal 'stranger' type relationship. A hello here on the elevator, a good morning there in the laundry room. However, his attention was focused on the blonde. She was striking, actually, and he vaguely wondered what he could do to be introduced to her. His infallible plan was to simply walk by their table. It actually worked and before long, he was seated with them. And not long after that, the blonde was playing right into his hands. He drank more than he should have, but he let himself go. He had the next day off and could afford a day in bed with a hangover. What harm was there in that? None, of course.
Now, this morning, Frank was in bed with the blonde and somewhat hard pressed to remember what happened last night. Part of him felt like a shit for taking this woman he didn't know to bed. He had done a good fair share of that lately and it tweaked his nerves when he realized that he was trying his best to drive Aila Blane out of his mind. She left him on the very day he had planned to ask her to marry him. He recalled asking his younger sister, Terra, to help him pick out the ring. It had been a few years since he had shopped for such a significant piece of jewelry. His marriage to Logan had begun on a rocky note and they were separated longer than they were married. He definitely didn't want to screw this up. Aila meant a lot to him and he couldn't fathom the idea of having a life without her in it. For God's sake, even Logan was asking him when they would marry. He had been scorned by love. Big deal. It happened to a lot of men and women. It was time to get over it and get on with his life. Yet, the only significant relationship he could support was with his daughter. He didn't want anything else, because he couldn't take it. Terra had lectured him more than once about it, but what could he truly say? He was still pining over a woman who had been out of his life for three years? Did he expect her to be single to this day? Did he expect her to be waiting for him somewhere? He had no earthly idea where she had gone. Even if he had known, did he expect a woman like that to be unattached? Aila had never been single. Frank groaned and yanked on the sheet again. The girl [What is her name? I think it was something dumb like Cassiopeia.] mumbled in protest and held onto the cover. How in the hell would he get her out of his bed? Of all the mistakes he had made in his life, this was the biggest. It was time to bid a fond adieu to his redheaded neighbor and her sexy friends. But damn it…he didn't remember her name.
Frank gave up on his war over the cover. He was accustomed to sleeping without attire unless Darien was home, and it didn't take him long to find his robe. He remembered slinging it haphazardly over the back of a huge wingback chair that was used mostly as a place to hang clothing. A meticulous man was Frank Donovan, but if he was depressed, forget it. Last night was one of those times. He had barely managed to belt his robe when he heard his guest for the night making small throaty noises he assumed were her way of rising. It was the weirdest thing he had ever heard in his life, but damn if he wasn't watching as if she were some exotic lizard shedding her skin. She was a gorgeous creature, but still didn't quite hold a candle to Aila. Stop this. Stop it right now. It's over. Wake up and smell reality, Donovan. It seemed that every time he had a different woman in his bed, he missed Aila that much more. He was a connected man, he knew people. It wouldn't take much to find her if she wanted to be found. Yet, that was the thing. If she wanted to be found, she would have come out of the woodwork by now. Frank sighed as he watched the woman coming to life and he realized that he honestly didn't know what to say to her. How about 'what's your name' for starters? She smiled at him and he returned it weakly. What the hell was I thinking?
* * *
Frank had sent his third goofy dad text message of the day when his sister approached. After he had finally gotten rid of his date from last evening [Her name was Cassiopeia. "But you can call me Cassi," she had said while he shuddered with disgust. I doubt I'll ever call you again, he thought.], he recalled that he made a breakfast date with Terra. At first, he started to call and beg off, but he couldn't do it. Terra was in law school now and he didn't see much of her as it was. He stood and admired her as she drew closer. She was tall like he, but since they had different mothers, her skin tone was different and her hair color much softer. It glinted with dark auburn highlights as if she had been sun bathing. Their only identical traits were their arrow straight noses and deep chocolate brown eyes. He hugged her warmly before they broke apart. As they took their seats, Frank heard a sharp beep emitting from his phone.
"Don't tell me," Terra began. "My niece?"
He smiled. "Yeah. Logan is trying to get her to school, but she's been sending non stop text messages since she's been out of bed."
Terra watched as he zipped off a quick answer to Darien. She was certain he had issued a stern command that she behave and go to school as Logan wanted. She propped her chin on her hand. He looked worn and beaten down. "Des, you can't hide anything from your baby sister. You look like shit. What happened last night?"
Frank snapped his phone closed and looked up at Terra. 'Des' was short for 'Desmond.' It was his mother's maiden name and she had pinned it onto him as a middle name. He hated it, of course, and Terra often called him Des when she wanted to irritate him. "Nothing out of the ordinary," he said, lying. "I was at work, I picked up my daughter and took her back to her mother, I went out, and then I came home."
"Alone?"
There was another trait that Terra and Frank shared. It was the same biting little smirk they were capable of when they wanted to tease the crap out of another person. Right now, Terra was holding onto that trait and claiming it as her own. She used it better and more effectively than any other member of the Donovan family. Of course, Terra would ask. She was well aware of his feelings for Aila. She knew he still held onto Aila's engagement ring as if waiting for her to call him and accept a proposal never voiced. He was readying for Terra's speech that shortly followed her smirk. He was of the mindset to forget Aila and move on. However, Terra was the exact opposite. She felt he should use his influence and find her. If you still love her this much after three years, don't you think she might still have feelings for you, she had asked a million times. Damn it, he was the serious one in the relationship. He wanted the commitment. He wanted to be married to her for the rest of his natural life. It wasn't him at all. It was Aila.
Before Frank answered her question, a server interrupted them. After she left, Frank grabbed his coffee cup and sipped at it tentatively. "No, Terra. I didn't go home alone. I met a nice woman at the bar and we came back to my apartment."
Terra took a sip from her cup and smiled. "Oh, Des, you're lying to me. Don't you know better than that? You can hide your emotions all you want, but you can't fake me out. You had another one of those 'forget she existed' dates, didn't you?" She sat back in her chair and waved her hands dramatically. "Don't tell me. Wait. Let me guess. She was a ditzy blonde knockout with D cup boobs and a butt you could bounce a quarter off of. Am I right? She was the exact opposite of the woman you should really try to pursue."
Frank shook his head and gave up on his coffee cup for a moment. He sat back in his own chair, intentionally mocking his sister. "Very astute of you, Terror." If she wanted to whip out his old nickname, he supposed he could dig hers up as well. However, calling her 'Terror' wasn't as irritating to her as 'Des' was to him. It mostly only bothered her as a teenager when she was trying to impress a boy over the phone. "Law school has taught you some excellent digging skills, but you're dead wrong." 'Terror' was nothing but right, but would he admit it? No. Not in a million years.
She shook her head and laughed. "Des, come on. I'm your sister. If you can't confide in your sister, then who can you turn to? Come on, Frank. Fess up. You go from one empty relationship to the next because you're still in love with Aila. If you weren't still hung up on her, why would you keep the ring? Come on, Des, you're a G-man and you have buddies at the CPD. Someone there will know where she is. I mean, even if she is married or whatever, just take the time to find her and call her or something. For Pete's sake, Frank, do something. Tell me about the chick. Was I right?"
"Terror, sometimes, I wish I could hate you, but it would be too close to hating me," he said lightly. "You were right about the girl and you're right about Aila. Yet, regardless how right you are, that part of my life is over now. Apparently, it wasn't meant to be or she would have stayed. I can't keep pining forever. As far as the ring goes, I gave it away last week. It's nothing more now than a memory." He picked up his coffee cup again to avoid the look in Terra's eyes. It was too close to pity for his comfort level. He loved his sister dearly, but there came a time when meddling had to stop. "How's school," he asked suddenly.
"Nice subject change, Des."
* * *
After breakfast, Frank walked Terra back to her car. When she left, he had intended to duck into the library for a while, but instead, he turned toward where he parked his car. He drove back to his apartment building and took the stairs up to the twelfth floor. He normally didn't take the stairs unless he wanted to work out a problem. Today was problem day. His conversation with Terra was upsetting, as it usually was when they discussed Aila Blane. However, it seemed even more heart breaking. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was eating away at him. Something he had never felt before. When he heard the arguments about finding her, he'd always say it was time to move on. However, today, he didn't know if that was such a good idea. He definitely knew girlfriend swapping wasn't getting him anywhere. But he couldn't keep up his obsession with her. Perhaps he needed to find out where she was just to talk to her. Perhaps he needed a more proper goodbye. After all, he had been cheated in that category, hadn't he? He walked into her hospital room to propose marriage and she had shrugged him off with a 'see ya.' Damn it. He was cheated.
Frank reached his apartment door and he dug into his jeans pocket for his keys. After letting himself inside, he locked the door behind him. He stood in the middle of the living room for a very long moment, as if he were contemplating where to move his furniture. Shaking his head, he moved forward and dumped his keys onto his coffee table. He actually didn't know what his purpose was in coming home. Sighing heavily, he moved into his bedroom. When he left this morning, he hadn't wanted to linger any longer than necessary. The blonde [Cassi, he thought with a shudder] had gone directly to her friend's apartment to dish about her night with him, and he had no desire to relive it. Basically, he had taken his chicken shit ass and ran. The bed was still messed up. He couldn't stand to be in the same room with an unmade bed. He had inherited his anal ways from his mother. He stripped off the sheets and rolled them neatly into a tight ball before depositing them onto the wingback chair. Frank went to his closet in hopes of finding fresh sheets, but of course, he had to dig around for some. However, another piece of cloth caught his attention first. It was a black wool trench coat. Carefully, as if he were a surgeon performing delicate surgery, he plucked the coat off its hanger. Thoughtfully, he gazed at it before slipping his hand into the right pocket. Inside, he took hold of a small black velvet box. He pulled it out slowly and gazed down at it as if he hadn't seen it in decades. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what was inside it, and of course, he had lied to his sister. He also hadn't exactly forgotten where he put the ring, but he had put it out of his mind. The moment he came home after she said she wanted to leave, he had taken off the coat and hadn't worn it since. It felt tainted.
For several minutes, he stared down at the velvet box, looking away only when his eyes began to sting. Carefully, he opened the box and looked at the ring. The stone was at least two carats, heart-shaped, and laid out on a thick gold band. The inscription was still inside the band, of course: Forever, my love. He shook his head and laughed bitterly. Forever indeed. Was a year forever? Shaking his head incredulously, he put the ring back inside the box and stuffed it into its hiding place. He had told Terra he gave it away. He supposed he still could. But the moment he touched it, images of Aila's face came in so clearly that he could almost feel her presence. Damn her for doing this to him. Damn her for doing this to his heart. He should take the ring and pawn it or give it to some bum on the street. He didn't want it. He didn't want to think about or look at it again. He jammed his fist into the pocket again and took hold of the box. He held it tightly and could feel the soft push of the velvet against his flesh. He wanted to crush it. Crush her. In the end, he couldn't. He put the ring back into the pocket and threw the coat across the back of his chair. He would deal with it later. Right now, he had to make his bed, to get the scent of the woman out of his room before he blacked out due to her cheap perfume.
When his task was accomplished, he found himself sitting on the side of his bed. His eyes were focused on the window, but he wasn't looking at anything. Every now and again, he would shift his gaze to the coat. Had he truly forgotten where he put it? He couldn't believe that for a second. If Terra heard it, she would laugh herself insane. God. He hated it when Terra was right. Of course, he wouldn't tell her and give her the satisfaction of knowing. She would learn when he was ready to tell her. He dug out his cell and began to scroll through his phone book. He was relieved to note that the number was still there. Kyle Lovett. He was the Chief of Detectives at CPD and Aila's former superior. After all this time, he had maintained this one contact. Perhaps there was something to what Terra said. Maybe he was simply waiting for the right time. Stop analyzing this to death and dial the damn phone. He stabbed the 'send' key and waited patiently for his party to answer.
"Good morning, Chief Lovett. It's Frank," he said when the other line was picked up after seven painful rings. "Listen, I have a big favor to ask of you. Where did Detective Blane transfer?"
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To be continued…