Thank you for you encouragingly kind words. On with the story. :-)
Boosting - Chapter 2
Joe stopped in front of the window of the Café Spot and peered inside, spotting Nancy Drew on the far side. She saw him looking back and briefly waved so he pushed through the door and picked his way through the tables and sofas until he reached her. Almost as soon as he was within listening distance, Nancy said quickly and in a low voice: "Sorry Joe, I tried to talk her out of it, but—" and opened up her hands helplessly.
"What do you mean, talk who out of what?"
"Hello, sweetheart," said a voice at his shoulder and he turned to receive a kiss on the cheek.
"Mom?" He watched in amazement as his mother gracefully balanced a tray on the edge of the table and started unloading cups of coffee. Joe saw that there were four steaming cups, but of course, only three people currently in attendance. "What's going on?" he asked, thoroughly confused.
"I'm as much in the dark as you are," said another voice at his shoulder, but gruffer this time.
Joe turned again to find his father standing on the other side of him.
"Couldn't catch up with you, you walk fast, son."
"Huh?" Joe was spinning so much from one person's face to the other that he was getting dizzy!
"Hello, Laura – looking gorgeous, as usual," Fenton said to his wife and gave her a kiss and then turned to the other lady in the group. "Hi Nancy."
"Hi," Nancy responded dryly, looking through him and out of the window.
"Sit down, Joe," Laura ordered and settled herself down along with Fenton who started immediately to stir two sugars in his cappuccino and then began going safari through the froth searching for the coffee segment of the beverage and frowning.
"What's happening?" Joe turned to Nancy helplessly.
Nancy pursed her lips and pushed Joe's chair creakingly out with her toe. "All will become clear."
But Joe could tell by her demeanour that she wasn't particularly relaxed. Her own chair was pushed back some distance from the table, as good as blocking the walkway, and she was hugging her cup closely to herself.
"Sit down, Joe," Laura ordered again. "We need to talk to you."
"What is this? A family intervention?" Joe asked and smiled.
Laura laughed quietly. "Kind of—" she admitted.
Joe's smile dropped and Nancy took to looking towards the window again.
"—But not you, so don't look so startled." Laura quickly followed-up.
"Oh," Joe spluttered in relief, and then: "Ohh, Frank you mean?"
"Exactly, but family intervention is perhaps too strong a term," Laura said and pushed a cup in front of Joe as he finally sat down. "More a family meeting. I overheard your conversation with Nancy and thought we should all have a chat about things while your brother's otherwise occupied."
"I'm not happy about this," Nancy suddenly cut in and stealing their combined attentions away. "I don't like going behind his back, not to this extent. A chat with Joe is one thing; a whole family discussion without his knowledge is huge. I shouldn't be here, I'm not one of the family, any more than Vanessa is."
Laura leaned across and took her hand. "If this is too uncomfortable for you, honey, you don't have to stay, but we'd appreciate your input. You've spent far more time with Frank than any of us have since he's been out of hospital. He's been like a hermit!"
Nancy took a drink of her coffee and regarded Laura over her cup. But she didn't move, so Joe took it that she was weighing up her options. After another couple of sips, Nancy said. "Frank won't thank me for being here, he trusts me and I'd hate to destroy that. If he thought I was plotting behind his back…well, I'd hate to think what he'd do. Probably dump me."
"He wouldn't do that; he adores you." Laura assured her.
"Wouldn't he?" Nancy asked. "He's on the edge. It wouldn't take much of a shove. He's not the same Frank and sometimes I worry that he's looking for an excuse to break ties. Said to me not long ago that he thinks he's too dangerous to be around and that I should find myself someone with normal problems."
Laura and Fenton exchanged a look. "He doesn't need to know about this meeting," Laura said.
Nancy conceded the point by shuffling her seat in toward the table.
"What did you mean when you said he's on the edge?" Joe asked, once Nancy had settled down again.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, contemplating her answer. "Well, put it like this. He's not exactly as recovered, as he'd like us to believe. He tells me he's been talking to his therapist, but I'm not sure how many appointments he's actually been to."
"What makes you say that?" Laura asked.
"Because I suspected as much, so I followed him one day and he didn't go. Went to the movies instead."
"Babe, are you kidding? Why would he do that?" Joe asked, aghast.
Nancy raised her shoulders and shook her head.
"That Pandora case can't have had that much of an effect on the Frankster, surely? It's not like we haven't faced stuff like that in the past." Joe observed.
"Joseph, stop deluding yourself!" Nancy exclaimed in disbelief. "Frank totally zoned out for three days – how much more of an effect do you think it needed to have had? And don't even get me started on the temporary agoraphobia."
Fenton cut in. "And also, Joe, what you're discounting is the fact that Frank faced this one alone. He let you and Nancy help, but only on the fringes and only when he had no other choice. And he didn't let any of us in on the whole plan, not even Nancy. A lot of what happened, Frank put into play himself in the hope that all the major elements would drop into place. Luckily most did, but some went badly wrong."
Joe looked across at his father as Fenton continued.
"He especially didn't bargain on you literally having to climb up to the roof to help him, which caused the haemorrhaging to the wound – and to hear Con yelling it up the stairwell like he did, well...you didn't see Frank's face. It's not an experience I'll ever wish to repeat."
Unknowingly, Joe's hand strayed to area where he been shot and he rubbed lightly.
Nancy next cut in. "Frank believes that, but for his own actions, none of it would have happened. But once he'd started the ball rolling, he couldn't stop it. I think morally, he felt he had to see it through to the end – although why he'd want to take it to the lengths he did makes little sense to me."
"That's probably my fault," Fenton admitted. "I instilled an attitude in the boys that once they start something, they should take responsibility and finish it, no matter what it is."
"Maybe so, and that's a commendable trait to drum into them, but it resulted in Frank being forced into taking certain actions. And now it seems he can't bring himself to seek out our help, that it would be a liberty to ask for it from the very people he caused hurt to."
Fenton opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and stared down guiltily into his cup instead.
"Oh, I see," said Laura quietly and took her husband's hand under the table. "You're very candid, Nancy," she remarked.
"I tend to speak my mind. It's my own undoing." Nancy blushed slightly and started fiddling with a bit of skin next to one of her nails. "Everything keeps comin' out of my mouth wrong. I'm frightened Frank's slipping through my fingers and there's nothing I can do to stop the rot." She glanced up at Fenton momentarily. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't apologise."
Nancy wrinkled her nose. "It was no one's fault that Frank took it to the extremes. It was the way Frank's mind was working, and I think still is. Everything is skewed and exaggerated. His sense of perspective is all out of whack." Nancy stopped and began chewing and that irritating slither of cuticle making her finger bleed. She quickly rubbed away the little bead of red with her thumb and pushed her hand into her lap.
It seemed to Joe that she was attempting clumsily to gloss over her previous harshly worded observation. So he nudged his father and galloped gallantly to her rescue: "Don't worry, Nan, I appreciate your straightness. We need to be open about this and not beat around the bush."
"Quite." Fenton agreed, catching Nancy's eye and giving her a wink.
There was a lull in the proceedings while everyone mulled over what had been said. Eventually Joe spoke up again. "So, Nan, do you think Frank's change of career choice is his way of taking himself completely out of the picture?"
"I think that's the most likely reason. It's his way of further avoiding having to deal with it."
"Does he at least talk things through with you?" Fenton asked Nancy.
"Rarely."
"Only when he's cornered, and even then it's brief." Joe agreed. He put down his empty cup and leaned forward. "But I don't get it, Frank was so great with me when Iola was killed, so why isn't he following his own advice?"
Silence from everyone – no one had the first clue as to why the usually intelligent and open Frank would allow himself to become so tightly screwed down. Joe was right; Frank had been a strong advocate of airing feelings openly when Joe had lost his girlfriend to the car bomb, but he was doing the opposite for himself.
"Yes. Frank handled that situation like a champ," Fenton agreed.
"It's like I said, his sense of perspective is out of kilter," Nancy said. "So what are we going to do? We can't leave him to drift or we'll lose him completely. I know the old Frank will probably never return, but a less traumatised version of him would be nice to have."
"Well – I did have one idea. I know you don't ride motorcycles, Dad, but can Con?" Joe asked.
"I think he can," Fenton answered, and, by way of explanation to Nancy at her surprised expression: "I can ride one, but I hate the things, don't feel safe on 'em. I prefer having something between the rock hardness of a road surface and my soft body. Why, the strange question, Son?"
So Joe began to explain his idea and leaned his elbows on the table. For once, Laura didn't berate him for his poor table manners.
*****
"Do you think you've remembered everything?" Frank asked as Nancy lugged her suitcase into the hallway, pushing his hands away when he automatically reached out to help.
"Yes, I think so. Anything I've left behind can stay here until I come back." Nancy caught an expression on Frank's face that he quickly tried to hide, so she stepped forward and cupped the side of his face. "Listen to me, I won't be gone long. From what was said on the phone yesterday, it'll be a quick case, just a few days."
"I know," Frank said and put his arms about her middle to pull her close. "I'm gonna miss you is all. Got used to having you around." He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "This place will seem empty without you here."
Nancy pulled back and smiled up at him. "It had to happen eventually. I can't keep on putting everything on hold, as much as I'd like to. You'll be okay. Maybe you'll hear something about that job and I'll come back to a celebration."
"Doubt it, Drew. If I was going to hear anything, I would have done by now – no big deal, I can always put it down to experience."
"That's the spirit!" The intercom buzzed so Nancy went to answer it. Seconds later she was back. "That's my cab, I've got to go."
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off?"
"No, I told you, Joe's coming over, he phoned this morning."
"I can always put Joe off—"
"—Oh no you don't, Hardy, you've been doing too much of that lately, why do you think he phoned me?" Nancy pulled her jacket on and grabbed her suitcase. "Can you get the door for me?"
Frank opened the front door and waited while Nancy carried her luggage through to the elevator before going ahead to press the call button, his hand immediately then straying to her hair, his fingers sweeping down its full length. "I don't want you to go." He was gazing intensely at her.
"Sorry," Nancy said and reached up to give him a kiss. "I'll be back soon, I promise."
"I've heard that line before—" Frank muttered despondently as the doors slid open.
Nancy backed into the lift, selected ground floor, and smiled at him. "Not from me you haven't." She reached forward to take his hand; lightly cradling it until the lift door started to slide and then letting him go. It wasn't until the door was almost all the way across that Frank's arm suddenly shot into the lessening gap, causing the doors to jerk violently open again. He stepped up to her and scooped her into another all enveloping embrace nearly lifting her off her feet. Eventually, and with a large shaky breath, Frank let her go for the final time and hobbled back out to allow the doors to shut fully.
Before the elevator began to descend, she watched Frank at the window, smiling back, unable to hide his lost expression this time. She just had enough time to kiss her palm before making a throwing action at him. He pretended to catch the kiss and pulled it into his chest.
"Crap, and loads of it!" she muttered as his image finally slid out of view. She leaned back against the wall of the elevator and swallowed, successfully willing the burgeoning tears away. When the lift hit the ground floor, she wasn't surprised to find Vanessa and Joe waiting for her on the other side.
"How was it?" Vanessa asked sympathetically as Joe took her bag.
"Horrible." Nancy gave Joe a light shove to his shoulder. "I hate you, Joseph Hardy. This had better work, or I'll never forgive you for making me do that!"
"Is he okay?" Joe asked, concerned.
"No."
Joe dropped the bag and jumped straight into the elevator.
It was obvious to Nancy that Joe was planning on riding it straight back up to his brother's apartment, which would prove the undoing of the entire arrangement if she allowed him, so she immediately set her hand against the open-door button to prevent it moving and gave him a hard look. "Come out Joe. If you want this plan to work, you need to give it a while before you go up or Frank will suss it straight away."
Joe's finger was raised to the fourth floor button, but luckily, he'd stopped himself in time. His hand curled into a tight ball and he leaned it alongside the switch pad. "Okay, you're right. Dammit!"