Page 10 of The Hampton Beach Café 3
"You ok?" Alex called.
"Uh...yeah…" she replied, "…just met Elvis unexpectedly."
She could sense Alex's confusion even from this far across the room. That was alright––she'd let him sit with that sentence with no context whatsoever.
A reminder buzz from her phone made her look down. Maybe it wouldn't be so weird to see her old friend...besides, it's not like she as asking to stay or anything…
To Hayley: That sounds amazing! Seeing all the places we used to hang out through adult eyes has been very odd. Let me know your dates.
Locking her phone quickly before she could second guess herself, Frances opened a small briefcase that sat on the table next to a mannequin dressed up like a mobster from the 1920s.
The plastic blocks of cash were yellowed with age, and the paper note glued to the top read, “Unified Status of America”, which made her giggle.
What had that woman had in her briefcase this morning? Was it just a prop, something to bash the door with? Or was she some bananas conspiracy theorist? Poor Clarkson, having to deal with a stalker.
Frances closed the prop briefcase and turned around to find a grinning Alex.
“You are going to eat your words, Lane,” he said with glee.
His use of her maiden name, like he had when they were young, was equal parts strange and heartwarming. It brought her back to their high school days, where they had made the strangest pair of friends. Despite what she had insisted upon this morning, she was somewhat of a golden girl in high school. Though she had never gone the prom queen and cheerleader route, she had good grades and stayed out of trouble for the most part. On the other hand, Alex had been a bit of a wild child. When they became close in high school, many of those midnight walks she had talked about were primarily to keep Alex busy while his other group of friends were off being delinquents and trying to get him to join in.
“Am I now?” she asked, smiling.
It was also a sharp reminder that though she was still technically Crawford, Lane was maybe more apt since the divorce. A double weirdness since her mom had reverted to her own maiden name, Price. That left Frances identifying most with the name of a man that she hadn't seen in over two decades, didn't know why he left, or where he went. How did it always come back to a man letting her down, even when it was a guy like Alex making her smile?
“Yep…” he said, “…you’re gonna love it. Just wait.”
“Hey…I know this is a big ask, and a bit weird, and very inconvenient, so feel free to say no….”
PING!
“Weird and inconvenient? Don’t worry. I’m used to you by now,” he teased.
She glanced down at her phone, a text from Hayley.
“Yeah, I know, I'm the worst, seriously though…do you think you could help me find out some stuff about my dad?”
That shut him up. It was like someone had pressed pause.
“Uh, yeah? Of course, what do you need?”
Swallowing hard, she unlocked her phone to see what Hayley had sent.
“Just, like, what he was doing before he left, if anyone you know might…you know…know?”
Pausing, she flicked her gaze back up to his. He knew she was asking him to talk to some of his old friends…ones he might not want to talk to. The silence stretched out for a few moments until he nodded.
“Of course, whatever you need.”
“Thank you, Alex.”
He smiled a little awkwardly and turned to head out to the car. Frances managed to actually read the text this time.
From Hayley: So excited! By the way, if you’re missing anything from LA, let me know, and I’ll do my best to cram it in my luggage.
Suddenly filled with an odd homesickness, Frances could almost taste the Pistachio and Rose Halva from her favorite Greek, Nikos. He owned the bakery on the corner by her old office...Halva would last a few days in a bag...right?
To Hayley: Well...now that you mention it....
