Page 105 of Summer Breakdown
“I’ve been listening to an old-school rock band,” he replies, and Frankie raises her eyebrows. Then, the music starts, and she frowns.
“Is this Paramore?”
Marcel smiles brightly. “Yeah, you know them?”
Frankie almost crashes the car. God, Marcel thinks she is so old. Still, she impresses him when she knows all the wordsandwhen to clap.
“Lani, you want your wheels?” Frankie says, when she does an ace parallel park and no one comments on it. Her talents are so wasted outside of the training grounds.
“Yes, please,” she replies, and Frankie doesn’t frown, even if she wants to. She loves holding Lani. Her little feet tap against her thighs when she’s excited. Her chair is her comfort, though, and Frankie doesn’t want to take away from that. “Can you push me?”
“Of course, babe.”
The first few shops are duds. Then, they get a lemonade each (Frankie gets cherry and sends a photo to Jasmine telling her she misses her, and Jasmine replies telling her she misses what Frankie tastes like, and she has to put her phone away for a few minutes).
“I think she’d like this,” Marcel says, his hands on a dark green oven dish. It’s not even a joke. Jasmine would love that. There’s a jug that would look perfect on their dining table full of flowers, but she’s giving them a chance to catch it first. If Lani can see that high, she’ll be all over it.
“I do too,” Frankie replies. Marcel puts it in the trolley carefully. Lani is still in her chair, and Frankie has nothing to do with her hands apart from sending Jasmine increasingly flirty texts.
Lani pouts as she looks at a photo frame. “I want to save some money so I can get flowers, because Mama loves flowers, and I cut the tulips down.”
Frankie laughs. “Well, I was going to get her these,” she says, finding a photo she screenshotted the other day because Jasmine mentioned she liked the brand. They’re fake, because Frankie has hay fever and Jasmine’s adorable as all fuck. Lani gasps andoohs when she sees them. They’re not yellow, but there are some pink flowers in there.
“But we can put all our names on them, and you can pick something else.”
Lani squeals. “Yay! Thank you.” Her arms raise, and Frankie matches her squeal, but then she puts them back down.
“I think maybe she’d like this in your bedroom?” Lani says, pointing to the frame. Frankie’s heart twists in chest. She might die right here with the casualness Lani uses to describe her home. It would be sod’s law, that Jasmine trusts her enough with her children and she croaks and leaves them on the third floor of the department store.
“I think so too,” Frankie replies. “Should we get it?”
Lani nods. She’s so sweet. Frankie loves her so much. And Marcel too. She always liked them. They were kind and funny the moment she met them, but she has a deep affection for them now. She wants to know what their thoughts are. If they’re happy. What they want to do with the rest of their lives. If Frankie can help.
“This is fun,” Marcel says, as they walk out with socks and a diffuser. One shop left, and then they have to find some wrapping paper and cards. Lani is most excited about it.
Marcel holds a candle in his hand. It’s his first miss of the afternoon, and he has, like, seven items. Frankie frowns but tries to hide it. Jasmine won’t like the candle. It’s so bright. Reds and pinks, and—
“That’s cute,” she says anyway, because Jasmine will love anything her kids thought about getting her. Marcel puts it down quickly. Frankie’s asks, “You okay?”
“I was looking for Tabitha,” he says sheepishly. Frankie should have known. He’s bright red. “It’s her birthday soon.”
Frankie’s eyebrows rise. “Ohhhh.”
“You’re such a mum, oh my God,” he replies, with a laugh. Frankie’s heart stops.
There’s never been a part of her that thought she’d have children. From a young age, she knew it would be cruel to give someone else this mind. For most of her adolescence, she didn’t feel safe, and she had Ezra. So she wrote the idea off. She never let herself think about it, and if anyone asked her if she wanted them, she’d say no.
There was never a part of her that thought she might get them any other way. Ezra wants to adopt, so she knows that’s an option, but she didn’t think she’d have anyone to do it with. She hasn’t told Jasmine she’s in love with her, or that she’s a loser who fell in love with her the night she met her. Frankie gets it now. Love at first sight is a thing; it just takes a while to process it. But Frankie loves Jasmine for everything that she is, and she knew that the moment Jasmine sat down at her table.
She might see a therapist bi-weekly and take six pills a day, but Frankie’s not insane enough to tell her girlfriend that she thinks she wants to keep her children.
“Do you think she’d like it?” Marcel asks, and Frankie comes back into the room.
“Well, you said she’s like summer in a person, so, yeah, but you know her better than me.”
He hums. “Alright.”
Frankie frowns as he goes to walk away. “Why aren’t you getting it?”
