Page 55 of Gravity of Love
“Do you want to come with me?”
Lucy answered by standing on her back legs, placing her front legs on Frankie’s shins.
“Okay.” It was settled.
She went around grabbing a few things she’d need, including her leash and some toys, then shot a quick text to Liam to let him know that Lucy was going to hang with her today.
Frankie drove across town with Lucy riding on her lap, her pink tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and nose smushed against the glass of the driver’s side window as if she were still in pursuit of her next great love, which, in that moment, was every smell in downtown Hope Falls.
When she walked into Yaya’s, she knew the house was empty, she’d gotten an alert of activity from the Ring cam earlier. After checking the footage, she saw that Renata picked Yaya up, she assumed it was to take her to visit Arthur. The second Frankie set Lucy down on the floor, she ran straight to Garfield’s food dish, which was licked clean. That didn’t deter Lucy from giving it a good once-over herself.
Frankie left her working on the empty bowl in the kitchen and headed to the bathroom. She got undressed, and her fingers ran over the faint bruise on her hip as the memory of Liam’s tenderness infused a sense of protection and love through her. She shook it off, determined not to make too much of the night they’d shared. From the Kevin-Bacon-in-the-waiting-roomShe’s Having a Babymovie montage that played in her head earlier, it seemed her subconscious had that covered. They slept together. It was one night, not a promise of forever.
She ran the shower hot and stood under it until her skin tingled. The entire time, the only thing she could think about was Liam. She couldn’t help it. No matter what she tried to think about, all roads led back to him. The way he’d asked her why she’d hidden from him. The way he’d kissed her in the hall. The look in his eyes when she’d walked out of the bathroom in her bra and underwear. The look on Liam’s face when she’d seen his tattoo. The feeling of his heart pounding under her cheek.
The entire night kept playing on repeat as she got out of the shower, dried off, ran a brush through her hair, lathered her body with lotion, and slipped into jeans and an old t-shirt. She was distracted, wondering what Liam’s thoughts on their night of debauchery were, as she padded barefoot to the kitchen and heard the distinct sound of glass breaking.
“Shit.”
She hurried down the hall and found Lucy cowering beneath the kitchen table chair. Garfield, totally unbothered, was weaving his way through the top shelf of Yaya’s bookshelves with an air of superiority and disdain that only a twenty-pound, spoiled-rotten tabby could pull off.
“Another one bites the dust.” Frankie shook her head as she knelt, picking up tiny shreds of pink and green glass off the parquet floor. If she had to guess, she would say Yaya was now a pelican figurine down.
She’d been in Hope Falls for about four weeks, this was the dozenth tchotchke to meet its ultimate demise thanks to Garfield’s, Frankie wasn’t one to fat-shame, so she would just say his less-than-svelte figure.
It wasn’t entirely the cat’s fault. Yaya’s living room looked like a mad scientist’s laboratory had crashed into a flea market or hospital gift shop. Beakers—well, technically old glass jars—held floral arrangements in various states of decay on every surface and knickknacks that multiplied by the day. They werelike gremlins that got wet after midnight. She had no clue where they came from, but every morning when she woke up, she swore there were at least ten more on the shelves.
Frankie didn’t want to use the word “hoarder,” but it had taken her three hours, one hundred and eighty minutes, to dust the two-hundred-foot space the first week she arrived. She’d gotten it down to forty-five minutes, once per week, but it was still quite the chore.
During her initial deep clean Frankie gently broached the subject of thinning out Yaya’s ‘collection.’ It hadn’t gone well.
“I heard that they are having a block yard sale,” Frankie mentioned as she took great care to put each Precious Moments figurine in theexactposition Yaya had arranged them in.
“Good for them! What is that to do with me?” Yaya’s hands flew in the air. “I have nothing for sale! These are treasures!”
“Right.” Frankie had bitten her tongue so hard she tasted metal from the figurative blood filling her mouth.
As she dropped the remains of the glass pelican, RIP, in the trash, Lucy let out an abrupt, piercing bark and took off for the front door, claws spinning on the hardwood. Frankie was right behind her, instructing her to hush.
“Sit,” she commanded.
Lucy managed to plop on her hind legs, despite her backend wiggling wildly.
“Stay,” Frankie instructed as she opened the door and gasped.
A huge bouquet of peonies, probably forty peonies, was in front of her. It was the largest bouquet she’d ever seen.
He knows.Tristan figured out what she saw. In all the years they’d been together, heneverremembered her favorite flower was peonies, not roses. She’d only told him once, it was during a big fight a couple of years into their relationship. He was pulling out the big guns now.
“Delivery for Francesca Costas.” A man’s voice came from behind the flowers.
“Uh, that’s me,” she said.
The delivery man handed her a clipboard, she scribbled a messy signature and took the flowers, their fragrance was sharp and clean.
“Thank you.” She shut the door and brought the bouquet to the kitchen. She unwrapped the flowers and tried to put them in a single vase, but they wouldn’t fit. She tried to split them in two, but that didn’t work either. She ended up having to split it into three separate floral arrangements. Thankfully, if there was one thing this house was not in a shortage of, it was glass vases.
After she finished, she cleaned up the area where she’d prepared them, then sat down at the table with the simple white envelope that said “Frankie” on it, bracing herself to read the worst apology of her life. When she opened it, she wasn’t ready for the words she saw. In fact, she had to read it several times.
