Page 42 of Gravity of Love
“She is,” Liam agreed. “What’s going on with Poppy? Phoebe said she came down with something.”
Kerri hesitated, just enough for a trained eye to catch. Her lips pinched together before she forced a cheerful shrug. “Yeah, she figured better safe than sorry. Didn’t want to risk being a super-spreader,” she said brightly, a little too brightly. “I better go check and make sure the inmates aren’t running the asylum.” She offered him a motherly pat on the hand, then made a beeline to the bouncy house, calling out for Freddie not to pull hair.
Liam watched her go, mind spinning with the ease of someone who’d spent a career reading vital signs and micro-expressions. Something was off with Poppy, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with a virus or CDC guidelines.
The swirl of the birthday party faded to a blur as he pulled out his phone and scrolled to Poppy’s contact. He dialed, half-expecting to hear her answer or at least ring, but it went straight to voicemail. He kept his tone casual after the beep, “Hey, call me back when you get this.” He hung up, but the unease lingered, clinging to him like static.
Liam stayed posted in the same spot, thumbing at his phone and watching the deck, waiting for Frankie to emerge. The balloon arch swayed in the breeze, a kaleidoscope of colors. The scent of grilling meat hovered over everything, making hisstomach rumble even as adrenaline knotted in his gut. His mind tried to put all the context clues he had together to create a picture of what was going on with Poppy, but he just couldn’t figure it out.
She lied about being at the hospital and ditched a coffee date with Phoebe.
She got hammered on a ‘fun girls’ night,’ which was completely out of character for her.
She skipped her niece’s birthday party, when her family meant everything to her.
A loud clap drew not only his attention but also the flock of children. Phoebe stood at the edge of the deck, voice booming with the authority of a small-town sheriff, “All right, everyone, we have a very special guest!”
Instantly, the mob of Finley’s friends, cousins and a few stray grown-ups migrated across the grass and took seats, craning their necks and jostling for position.
Liam watched as Frankie appeared totally transformed as Elsa—her signature red locks replaced by an icy-blonde braid, face dusted with shimmery makeup, and a sky-blue dress that managed to flatter her curves while still being appropriate. She was regal and infectious, every bit the Snow Queen.
Frankie didn’t just look like Elsa, she embodied her. She swept out onto the deck with a flurry of dramatic arm movements, and the kids ate it up. As she greeted them, the crowd of children—Finley front and center—erupted in shrieks of glee. Frankie twirled, executed a perfect little curtsy, and began to work the crowd. She went from child to child, handing out hugs and asking each their name in an accent that was impeccable, if not a little bit over the top.
He’d never seen her like that. The Frankie he knew was all edges and urgent honesty, but this version was pure warmth. She listened intently to each kid, knelt to their level, and drewthem out with questions and jokes. When one shy little girl clung to the hem of her Elsa dress and whispered she’d lost her tooth yesterday, Frankie gasped and spun it into a real-life royal achievement. Within moments, the entire mob was crowding around her, not wanting to miss a second.
At no point in the hour-long performance did she phone it in. She was the Ice Queen. From captivating the audience with story time, and a magic trick involving controlling “ice dust,” to the songs that had the kids singing along with their arms outstretched. Liam remembered that Frankie could sing—she’d always destroyed at karaoke and Sing-Star nights—but he forgot how pure her voice was, how it carried and soothed at the same time. For a moment, he forgot about Poppy, forgot he was worried about her, forgot that Frankie was engaged to his brother, and he forgot about the real world entirely. He just watched this woman he could never put in a box outshine an entire party and make every single person there fall a little bit in love with her.
After the musical finale, which ended in a confetti explosion and a choreographed dance-off, Frankie led the kids to a face-painting station set up on the picnic table with supplies Ramesh had been sent to retrieve. She waved her hands with grand Elsa-style gestures and announced she would “transform anyone who dared into a magical creature.” The kids lined up, squirming with anticipation. Liam lost count of how many butterflies, tigers, and miniature Elsas she produced in the next hour. Even some of the adults got in on it, emerging with sparkly blue snowflakes on their cheeks. He watched her work in awe, she was so kind, present, and impossibly patient. She laughed with the parents, let the kids take selfies, and never once broke character.
He was so captivated, mesmerized by her, that he barely noticed when the grill-masters abandoned their posts and madea slow, deliberate approach. They came in a wedge formation, flanking him on both sides as if this were a well-rehearsed play. Roger, the tallest and loudest, led the charge. Duane and Ramesh brought up the rear, Ramesh grabbing a drink from the cooler while Duane pretended to adjust his sunglasses. It was clear to him they’d been sent on a fact-finding mission.
“So who is she?” Roger threw out casually, slapping him on his shoulder.
“Francesca Costas.”
“How do you know her?” Duane held his sunglasses up in the air, squinting at the lenses, then lowered them and began to clean them with his shirt.
“We knew each other growing up.”
“You mean in San Francisco?” Roger clarified.
He’d barely spoken about his childhood or life before meeting the Davies to them. They asked, but he’d been intentionally vague. They knew the basics: he had a brother, and his mom passed away.
“Yes.”
“Were you two…close?” Duane tiptoed around the question he clearly wanted to ask.
“Yes.”
“Are you two a thing?” Ramesh blurted out as he popped the cap off the IPA.
Ramesh had always been his favorite brother-in-law. He never beat around the bush. If he had something to say, he said it.
“No,” Liam answered honestly.
An awkward silence hung in the air. The thing most people didn’t know was Liam thrived on awkward silences. Still, he sensed the conversation was not over.
“But you love her,” Ramesh followed up bluntly.
