chapter four: meant to be, supposed to be

Frankie quietly opened the door to Bella's room. Bella lay on the bed, hugging a teddy bear. She looked asleep. Frankie closed the door behind her. Out of habit, she studied the room. Bella's Barbie was propped up on the bedside table. Frankie picked up the card next to it, smiling as she read the message. Get well soon love Nakeisha was written in a child's painstaking script.

Bella's eyes fluttered open. "Frankie. You really came."

"I promised, didn't I?" She sat down. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Bella rolled onto her side. "I asked Daddy if I could get a wig the same color as your hair when mine falls out again. I wish I had long hair like yours. It's pretty."

"Well, with or without hair, you'll still be beautiful." Frankie put a knitted pink beanie on the bed. "I brought you a present."

Bella grinned. "Thank you, Frankie! Mommy says you always have to say thank you, else people think you don't like your present. Can I wear it now?"

Frankie gently put the beanie on for Bella then kissed her forehead. "There you go."

"Oh! I have a present for you too! It's in the drawer."

Frankie opened the drawer and pulled out a picture. There were two stick figures; a man and a woman. The man held a bunch of flowers. The woman had an enormous smile on her face. "Is this it?"

"Uh huh. I drawed it myself."

"Thank you. It's lovely."

"It's you and your boyfriend. I didn't know what he looked like so I asked Nurse Hatcher and she said he was handsome. 'Cept she said he wasn't your boyfriend, he was your husband." Bella's tone was accusatory.

"Ex-husband. We're not married anymore."

"How come?"

"Bella, it's a long story."

"Do you still love him?"

"I—"

"Do you have any children?"

Frankie's breath caught in her throat. Amy, she thought.

"'Cause," Bella continued, "if you do, you shouldn't have got divorced. Kids are s'posed to have mommies and daddies. Nakeisha's mommy and daddy are divorced and she's sad 'cause she only sees her daddy on the weekend."

It still hurt Frankie to say, "We don't have children."

Bella thought about that for a minute, then nodded. "Okay. Hey, Frankie, will you come to my birthday party next month? Daddy says I can even have it at home! You can meet Nakeisha and Mommy and Skittle – that's my cat." Her expression turned sly. "You can even bring your boyfriend."

Frankie smiled. "Of course I'll come to your party." She stood. "But I'd better get back to my room before Nurse Hatcher comes looking for me."

"Will you come visit again?"

"Tomorrow."

"Okay." Bella settled back against the pillows, a satisfied smile on her face. "G'bye, Frankie."

Alexandru was late.

Kilmer sat at the hotel bar, scanning the room. Angel was at a table two feet away, waiting. She'd had to fend off two would-be suitors so far, much to Kilmer's amusement.

Two men entered. Kilmer straightened, immediately recognizing the taller one as Alexandru. He looked at Angel, inclining his head in Alexandru's direction. Angel nodded. Kilmer turned so his back was to the table and ordered a drink.

"Mademoiselle Argeneau?"

"Oui." Kilmer heard the scraping of chairs as the men sat, then Angel said, "Please, call me Nathalie."

"Very well, Nathalie. I am Mircea Alexandru and this is my associate, Kasim."

When Alexandru asked, "What's this?" Kilmer knew Angel had passed him the folder of photographs.

"Examples of my work."

"Your work?" Alexandru laughed. "You talk as if it's art."

"Isn't it?"

There was a silence. Kilmer guessed Alexandru was looking at the photographs. Jelani had compiled a selection of photographs of sites that Nathalie Argeneau had bombed. He hoped they were enough to convince Alexandru.

"Excellent," Alexandru said. "We will meet again tomorrow. Same place. Enjoy your evening."

A few minutes later, Angel sat next to Kilmer. "So far, so good."

Kilmer wasn't so sure. Maybe Frankie's paranoia was starting to rub off on him, he thought, but something about this whole thing seemed off. It was almost going too well.

Frankie sat cross-legged on the bed, sipping a cup of coffee. Faye had returned with a stack of magazines and a book of crossword puzzles. "To keep your brain active," she'd said.

The conversation had quickly turned to Kilmer, despite Frankie's consistent efforts to change the subject.

"Forgive me for prying," Faye said, not looking at all contrite, "but I have to ask. Do you still love my son?"

Frankie stared into the cup as if she expected to find the answer there. She sighed. "Yes. I still love him. But I loved him before and it wasn't enough then."

"You're both older now and, hopefully, wiser. If you're sure it's what you want, then you can make it work."

It was pointless to lie to Faye. "I'm scared."

"You're not a coward, Frankie. Take that leap of faith." Faye smiled. "I'm sure you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Frankie didn't have a comeback for that. She was saved from having to think of something when her cell phone rang.

"I thought those weren't allowed in hospitals," Faye said.

Frankie shrugged. "Hello?"

"Hey."

She smiled. "Hey. How's Marrakech?"

"Lonely." Frankie heard the frustration in Kilmer's voice. "This is taking longer than expected. We're stuck here another night."

"That's okay. I've got company."

"Who?" He sounded jealous. Frankie thought about making him sweat, decided against it, and handed the phone to Faye.

"Hello, John . . . what, you didn't think I'd spend Christmas by myself? . . . Yes, I'm looking after her . . . oh, alright." Faye passed the phone back to Frankie.

"Evil woman. You should have said it was my mother. I thought—"

Frankie laughed. "Sorry."

"I miss you, Mrs. Kilmer."

"I – I miss you, too." Frankie shook her head at Faye, who was grinning and giving her the thumbs up sign.

"Yeah, well I'll be back before you know it. Try to keep my mother out of trouble."

"I'll do my best. But you know what she's like. I can't make any promises."

He laughed, the sound warming something deep inside Frankie. When she hung up, Faye was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"What did my son say about me?"

Frankie smiled and shrugged. "It's classified."

"You two are going to be the death of me." Faye stood, taking Frankie's cup. "I need more coffee."

When Faye left, Faye replayed the conversation with Kilmer in her mind. He'd never stopped calling her Mrs. Kilmer. She'd never told him not to.

Maybe Faye was right. Maybe it was time to take that leap.