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“Well, if you have to name the artist, you should have to name both if there’s more than one—” Frank began hotly.
“You’re still correct if you name one of them,” Cassie interrupted in a tone that suggested they’d had this conversation plenty of times already.
Leaning a little closer to Frank, Mel said, “I agree.”
Frank grinned at Mel and knocked her shoulder with his. Mel knew that she was smiling too big and that her blush was definitely very, very obvious, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She heard Donnie groan.
“Oh god, now there’s two of them,” he muttered.
June 22nd: Different First Meeting for @kingdonweek
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A happy screech greeted Mel as she trudged in the door, a matching laugh echoing behind it. There was a pause, voices murmuring before another screech, followed by laughter.Â
Normally, Mel would have rushed to the ensuite to wash the day off her. Especially on days like today, where her patients clung to her clothes. But, as soon as she toed her shoes off, she made her way to the living room.Â
Both Frank and baby Eliza lay on their stomach, facing each other. Frank’s back was to the door, so Mel could lean on the frame and watch as Eliza’s blue eyes tracked his every movement, babbling some sweet nonsense.Â
A side-effect from the guilt of Tanner being born during COVID and working too many hours during Penny’s infancy, Frank threw himself into their pregnancy, vibrating with excitement and pride anytime he got the chance to talk about their baby. Near the end of her pregnancy, Mel used to joke that he was more excited than her (but, she sobbed the moment she heard Eliza’s little cries, knowing that she was perfect and theirs).Â
As it were, Eliza was spoiled. Whenever it was her tummy time, Frank joined her, stretching his back as he faced her, watching her take in the world or coo to her while she vocalized her protests at the activity.Â
“Your mommy thinks I didn’t hear her come in, but I know she’s behind us,” Frank said to Eliza in a conspiratorial whisper, pulling Mel back to reality.Â
Eliza gurgled back, all gums and drool.Â
Mel smiled softly, the weight of the day easing off her back. She nudged Frank’s leg with a socked foot, “Hello to you as well. And to you, Miss Eliza.”
She squealed in response.Â
Without another word, Mel plopped to the ground next to Frank, leaning her weight against him. He adjusted slightly, pulling her hand into his. That was more than enough for her.
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“—and it’s just so sad because she’s been vilified and made fun of throughout history, but her life has been so tragic and she ended up alone and broke, and everyone—even her son—thought she was crazy. But she was just depressed and anxious and gosh, the deck was really stacked against her.”
Mel took a deep breath, slightly breathless after her explanation. The steady, soothing pressure of Frank’s hand on her ankle brought her back to the present. A furious blush spread across her face.
“Oh no! I did it again.”
Frank cocked his head at her, a bemused tilt to his lips, “Did what?”
Mel’s gaze dropped, focusing on the small tear at the collar of his shirt. It was loose on him—most of his pre-rehab shirts had the same fit and he kept making excuses to go shopping for himself.
A quick, light squeeze to her calf brought her back into her body, “sweetheart, what do you mean?”
“I rambled for too long.”
“What do y—”
“You just asked me what I was reading. That’s it. And I’ve been soliloquying for,” Mel checked her watch, offering an estimate, “10 minutes. You didn’t ask for all those details and I know I have a tendency to go on and on and not realize people aren’t as excited as me. I’m sorry.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, tears pricking her eyes.
“Look at me. I want you to know I’m serious when I say this next part,” Frank said softly. Fondness was written across his face, but there was steel in his eyes. Mel shivered as he continued, “I always want to hear what you have to say. I don’t care how long you go on. And if we’re at work and you get interrupted? I want to hear about it later. I promise, Mel. I always want to hear what you have to say.”
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It had been a hard day. One of those days where they lost more than they saved, when the ribs broken during CPR were for naught, how Mel could hear the echoes of the sobbing families ringing in her ears as she moved from room to room, trying to throw herself into her other patients because she had to keep going, had to be a good doctor, couldn’t cry, couldn’t throw up no matter how nauseous she was, couldn’t—
“We’re here.”
Mel tried to pull herself out of the haze. She squinted in the dark. She knew she was out of it, allowed herself to slip back into her head as Frank offered to drive her home but, “this isn’t my house.”
Frank’s face was washed in his apartment’s warm parking lot lighting. An unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes but Mel was too tired to decipher it.Â
“I’m not letting you go home alone after that shift.” She stared at him, buffering as she processed his words. His face softened, voice pleading, “Let me take care of you. Let me make sure you’re okay.”
She nodded wordlessly. In a daze, Mel allowed Frank to gently lead her to his third-floor apartment, let him untie her shoes with minimal protests, and guide her to his couch. She stared blankly ahead as he fussed with something on his TV stand.Â
The sharp snick of a lighter drew her attention. With great effort, Mel focused on the lighter in Frank’s hand, the waver of the spark of fire as he moved, the way it took a second before catching on the wick. As he tucked the lighter back in his pocket, Mel recognized the vessel.
By the time Frank turned back, tears were streaming down her face. The nostalgic scent of lavender and cedar filled the living room, the candle one that Mel pointed out once to Frank as reminding her of her childhood. She let herself sob, let Frank wrap her in his arms, and knew that he would take care of her.Â
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