Foster's Home: A Forbiden Love Part 1

2.

Did it happen suddenly as a rush into each other’s arms? Was there a plan, a slow seduction? Nope, none of those things.

Frankie Foster was an adult woman, 25 years old. From a lonely orphan child, to a resilient girl, then strong woman who works very hard at job with little recognition, no room for growth… but a lot of laughter. She’s dated, had some boyfriends, a couple of affairs that ended badly or sadly or both. She is watching her friends get married, have babies, move away and it is beginning to worry her. There is no one in her life and apparently no one is coming.

Mac was a 11-year-old boy with a good heart, a good head on his shoulders and problems at home. He had a nice hard-working mom and a mean older brother, a dumb bully who made his life miserable. Their father left years ago, no forwarding address. Dead now. There’s a story there. The hard-working mom had to work harder. The older brother just got meaner. Then Mac got an Imaginary Friend who made his life better… for a while. Then his mother insisted on sending Bloo away. She wasn’t happy about the decision, but she made it to protect her older son Terrance, the two were more than a match for him. Maybe it would change him, make him better.

Next morning: Frankie opened a bleary eye to the aroma of strong, fresh coffee. She thought to herself, “Grandmother wouldn’t make it… she’d throw it my face. Mr. Harriman? Fuck no! The Imaginaries wouldn’t dare enter without an invitation.” She turned her head. Mac was sitting on the edge of his cot, smiling shyly. “Hey?”

“Hey, Frankie. How ya’ feelin’?

“Great… almost alive. Zombie at sunrise… Arggg! Thanks for the coffee!”

‘’Welcome…”

She pushed herself up, tried to remember last night. The coffee was hot and sweet and made her feel nearly human.

“Hey Mac, come here for a moment?”

He smiled, came over as she patted the edge of her bed. He jumped up. It was an old-fashioned feather mattress which poofed out as he settled on it.

“Need to ask you something… will you to tell me the truth?”

Mac bit his lip, nodded.

“Last night… How do I ask this? Mac, last night when I came home…” she stopped. He looked at her. “God, he’s cute,” she thought. “Look, no easy way to ask this… when I came in last night… did I…? Did you…? Naked. See me naked?” Her turn to bite her lip.

Mac turned a bright shade of red. He had dreaded this question all night and had thought of a thousand excuses or lies to tell her. “Yeah Frankie, I did! I’m so sorry, I looked, I know I… I’m soooo sorry. I…”

“Shhhh. Mac, you did nothing wrong, stop it” she saw the tears forming in his eyes. “I was wrong. I was… well, no excuse. I had too much to drink, I ripped my fuc… my only good dress.” No need to mention to him that it was more than being drunk. There were the pills also… and a couple of lines of coke. What she had done in the closet with Steve Harper… or was it his brother Pat? One of them… or both? “It was a party, after all!” she thought. “Mac, that isn’t something that should have ever happened. I’m sorry.” She put her hand on top of his.

“Frankie… I can’t say I’m sorry. I’m not. But I am sorry that you are… like, embarrassed. I didn’t mean to peek. I knew it was wrong. I should have said I was awake. But… I didn’t know how. No, I knew… but I couldn’t. I’ll move my things back to the other room.” And he started to stand. He ran his arm across his eyes.

She reached out to hug him from behind. He stiffened for a moment and then relaxed into it. He liked being hugged. He never got enough of them at home.

She whispered, “Mac, I like having you in my room with me. It happened, it’s over. I get lonely too and I like knowing you’re here. OK?” She kissed his cheek.

He sat back on her bed as she finished her coffee. She could see there was something he needed to talk about, so she waited.

“Frankie, about last night… You cried, you cried a lot. A long time.”

“Oh, boy” she thought. She gestured towards the dress, still on the floor where she had thrown it.

“Frankie, tell me the truth, please. Was it just the dress? I know you love it, but…”

She hiccupped. Looked at him. Thought of a hundred lies and evasions and surprised herself by telling the truth. “I was sad, very sad. I get that way sometimes. Part of being an orphan, I guess… but it’s more than just that.” She found her thoughts racing. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them. Looked at the boy. “I drank too much… did some other things I shouldn’t. It happens, I get very down. Lonely.” She closed her eyes, felt his hand on her shoulder. She smiled up at him.