Chapter 19

“Oh my gosh! The waiting is killing me!” Frankie paced back and forth on the slush-covered steps of Holly Springs.

“It hasn’t been that long, Babe,” Steve reached toward his girlfriend to draw her in a hug, but she turned on her heel and paced in the other direction, slipping through his fingers.

“It’s been ten days since I sent off the test. The website said three to four days.” Frankie turned abruptly with a deer in the headlights look, “What if there was a problem and they contacted Mr. Winters? What if they could tell we forged the signature? Oh my God, Steve, what if -”

“Calm down, Frankie,” he drew her close, “You didn’t give them his contact information, so how would they contact him? Besides, I think they would contact you if there were an issue. Not him.”

“Maybe you're right,” she relaxed into his hug. She loved the strength and calmness he exuded when he held her in his arms. The warmth factor on chilly days was a perk.

“Of course, I’m right,” he chuckled. “Now, let's get inside. The tip of your nose looks like Rudolph.”

“I can’t believe how cold it is, and we have snow for the first time in forever.”

“I know. I had to scrape my windshield with my debit card this morning. I mean, really…who owns a snow scraper in North Carolina?”

Steve held the heavy entrance door open for Frankie, and the hot, dry air assaulted her senses as she entered the building. The familiar smells of floor wax and dust filled her nostrils, making her sneeze.

“You sneeze every time you walk in the school,” Faith emerged from the crowd of students flowing into the building. The head cheerleader, Eden Green, was among the multitude; with her stylish bouncy brown hair, a chest to die for, and legs longer than a giraffe's, floated by in a cloud of perfume and hairspray. As Eden made her way down the hall, Frankie half expected her to grace her subjects with a queen’s wave as if she were Queen Elizabeth herself. Frankie sneaked a peak at Steve to see if he was impressed. Her heart swelled when she realized he was looking at her and oblivious to the Queen.

“So, tomorrow is the big day!” Faith quipped as the trio made their way to their lockers.

“For what?” Frankie was still sailing on the ‘Steve cloud’ several feet from the floor.

“Parol, Silly!”

“Oh, yeah,” Frankie’s smile widened at the remembrance of getting her phone back and being allowed out of the house with Steve and Faith again. Even though her mom was upset with Faith and did not approve of what she allowed Frankie to do. She was under strict orders never to return to Hunter’s dorm room. Frankie was in no hurry to relive that weekend again, so it was not a problem to sincerely agree to her mother’s demand.

Steve squeezed Frankie’s hand as they dodged students in their path down the hall, “Saturday night, you belong to me,” Steve winked, “Faith, you’ll have to wait until Sunday after youth group for your turn with Frankie. Faith smiled sweetly and then stuck her tongue out at him. Steve chuckled before kissing Frankie goodbye, “This is my stop,” he joked before vanishing into a classroom.

“He is so amazing,” Frankie said dreamily as she and Faith headed toward their homeroom.

“So you’ve said like a million times.”

“Why, Faith, are you jealous?” Frankie said in a mock uppity tone.

“Hardly. Let's go before we are late again,” Both girls took off in a sprint.

☙☙☙

Frankie stepped off the big yellow school bus when it stopped at the apartment complex and headed toward the bank of mailboxes for their building. The sideway was still slushy and slick. The wind blew her silver hair away from her face, chilling her to the bone.

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She fumbled with the mailbox key but managed to open it. It was empty. She was pretty sure it wasn't a federal holiday with no mail delivery. She sighed, closed the box, and headed upstairs to their apartment.

Frankie pushed the front door open and stopped short in her tracks. Her mom was standing in the living room reading a sheet of paper. Frankie noticed the ripped-open envelope in Rachel’s left hand and immediately got sick. The return address was El Paso, Texas. That, and the look of horror on her mom’s face, was proof enough that the paternity test results were in her mother’s shaking hands.

Frankie began, “What are you doing at home?” She stepped toward her room and away from her mom. Rachel was frozen, but her hands trembled. Slowly, she turned toward Frankie, fire in her eyes, and took several deep breaths. Frankie had never really been afraid of her mom, but at the moment, she was terrified.

“What in the name of God is this?” Rachel demanded, waving the paper in front of her daughter instead of answering her question.

Frankie couldn’t speak. She wrapped her arms around her belly to control the involuntary shaking her body was experiencing.

“A Paternity Test, Frankie? What in the world is wrong with you?!” she flung the test result on the floor and paced. “You have some nerve, young lady. Michael gave consent for this? Why wasn’t I told? Oh my God, Frankie! I have never been so angry or disappointed in you in my entire life!” Her mom’s anger rose to a level Frankie had never seen.

“I don’t believe he is who you say he is. The odds of my father, who was presumed dead for seventeen years, suddenly showing up in little Holly Springs is a million to one!” Frankie shouted in return, matching her mother’s tone. “For all I know, you are just trying to land a man and using the ‘he’s your daddy’ as leverage to snag him in your trap!!” using air quotes to accentuate her sarcasm.

Rachel’s nostrils flared, Frankie was aware she was pushing safety limits in her mom’s presence, but she didn’t care. She had carried the hurt, anger, rage, and heartache far too long to stop now.

“I’m sure you have already told him I am his bastard kid, and your plan is underway, or did those test results ruin your little scam?” Frankie could be pretty snarky when she wanted. She longed to see the paper that contained her one desire - to know if Michael Winters was her birth father, but Rachel was standing guard with the toe of her high-heeled dress shoe, securing it to the floor.

“Frances Montgomery, don’t you dare speak to me like that! I am your mother, and you will show me respect!”

“I hate being your daughter and wish you weren’t my mother!” she spat.

“Well, you don’t have a choice, do you?” Frankie heard the sadness through her mother’s rage.

“I will be eighteen soon, and I am out of here!” Frankie's voice was getting sore from the screaming.

“August is a long way away, Kiddo. In the meantime, you will respect me in my own home!”

Rachel’s cell phone rang in her pocket just then. Frankie saw the display screen when Rachel retrieved the phone that it was Mr.Winters. Frankie stared at her mom, unblinking—a silent challenge to see who mattered more - her daughter or the boy toy.

“Hello,” Rachel answered the call with a shaky voice. The boy toy won.

“I hate you so much, Rachel!” she spat. “Get out of my life!”

Rachel pressed a fist against her lips and swallowed hard several times before retreating to her bedroom at the end of the hall. Frankie knew she had wounded her mother with what she said, but damnit, Frankie had been hurt too. “Paybacks are a bitch,” she whispered under her breath before snatching the test results letter from the floor and shutting herself in her own room.

Before she could make it to her bed, Frankie heard her mother’s heels clip-clop on the hardwood floor toward her room. She braced herself for round two of the epic battle with her mother. To Frankie’s surprise, the door didn’t open. Instead, she heard her mother sniffling as she passed Frankie’s room and then the front door closing.

Frankie plopped on her bed and waited to open the letter until she thought she heard her mom’s Camry pull out of the parking lot. Her hands were trembling. This was the moment she had been waiting for; this was her victory lap; this sheet of paper would dictate her future and change her life one way or another. So, why was she hesitant to unfold the letter?

She took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and opened the letter. Scanning the letter, her heart froze when she read the line, “Probability of Paternity 99.8%.” She dropped the letter in her lap, and the tears began to flow unchecked. She had no idea how to process the information. Was she happy? Sad? Mad? Ecstatic? A million emotions swirled through her head and heart, all competing for acknowledgment. She didn't know how long she sat there, but her room was growing dark when she came up from her fog. She assumed hours had passed as her mind whirled and her tears fell.

Frankie heard her a phone ringing in the distance but ignored it. She didn’t want to talk to Faith or Steve, and she was damn sure her mother wasn’t calling to apologize. The ringing persisted, and Frankie finally realized it was her cell phone ringing from the living room. Reluctantly, she slid off her bed and made her way to the intrusive noise. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone. She didn’t recognize the number that flashed across the display and started to reject the call. Something in her spirit prompted her to answer.

“Hello?”

“Frankie?”

“Yes? Who is this?” the man’s voice sounded strangely familiar.

“It’s Michael, Uhm, Mr. Winters.”

“Why are you calling me?” Frankie was being rude, but whatever.

“Your mother has been in an accident, and it’s pretty serious.”

Frankie crumpled to the floor, clutching the phone to her ear, “What? How serious?”

“She is being life-flighted to Duke Medical Center.” Michael’s voice was shaky in her ear.

“Frankie, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m, uhm, here.”

“I’ll pick you up on the way to the hospital. I will be there in ten minutes,” Michael assured her, then the line went dead.

“Mom...” Frankie called out into the darkening room, “MOOOOMMMM!!” she screamed from the bottom of her heart.