Page 19 of Kiss Me Softly

We were at a steakhouse in Evanston with Frankie’s parents. Her father was tall and distinguished looking, and other than greeting me he’d been mostly quiet. Frankie’s mom was petite like her, with similar features and the same brown hair, although Mrs. Haberman’s hair was mostly silver. She’d been peppering Frankie with questions and opinions since we got here. She seemed well-meaning, but nosy.

“We met at a laundromat in college,” I answered. “We hung out some but then we lost touch until I moved to Chicago a few months ago. We ran into each other in a restaurant.”

I thought it was best not to mention the time we had the one night stand when I was visiting the city.

“We were both dating other people, so we decided to be friends, but eventually…” I grabbed Frankie’s hand and pressed my lips to her knuckles, “we realized that there was more than friendship there.”

Her mother’s eyes bounced between us, and I had the sense that she knew something was missing from our story.

“I’m just surprised you and Barbie didn’t work out,” her mother said. “You seemed perfect for each other, and you’d been dating for a while. Her mother says she’s devastated.”

“I never should have gone out with her in the first place,” Frankie said firmly. “We have nothing in common and the truth is, we didn’t even like each other that much.”

Mrs. Haberman started to say more but her husband interrupted, changing the subject.

“Where do you live, Aurora?”

“She moved into the apartment above mine,” Frankie volunteered, clearly done with personal questions. “Can we order now? I’m starving.”

The rest of the dinner went well. I put on my full cheerleader charm, and by the time we were done eating, Frankie’s mother had warmed up to me. I could tell she was still annoyed about Frankie dumping Barbie but was holding out hope that I’d be the one her daughter would finally settle down with.

We said goodbye outside the restaurant and Frankie and I walked a few blocks down to the El station, hopping on the train back to our neighborhood.

“Well that went well,” I ventured as we found seats on the train.

Frankie nodded. “Yeah, you did your fake girlfriend duty tonight, thank you.”

I bumped my shoulder against hers. “Any time.”

The next couple of weeks went by quickly. Just like before the Barbie breakup and what I was thinking of as “The Kiss” we hung out pretty much every night other than if one of us had plans with other friends. We spent our weekends grocery shopping, watching movies, and wandering around the city as Frankie taught me about my new home city.

But as much as we tried to keep things on a platonic level, the attraction between us was burning out of control. Every random touch, every stolen glance, every minute we spent together made it worse. My vibrator had never had this much action before.

Finally it came to a head.

It was a Friday night and once again we were sitting on the fire escape having a beer and decompressing from our work days. Frankie’s summer school cohort was ending soon and she was looking forward to having a few weeks off after having a challenging group of kids this term. She taught at an ‘alternative’ high school for kids who’d been expelled from mainstream schools. Her classes were a mixture of kids with behavior problems, mental health challenges, and lived trauma.

“I just wonder sometimes if I’m even making a difference with these kids,” Frankie told me. “They have so much stacked against them.”

“You can’t save them all,” I reminded her. “But isn’t it true that sometimes having even one adult who cares for them and believes in them can make the difference?”

“Yeah.”

I scooted around to face her, my crossed legs pressing against the outside of her thigh in the small space.

“You’re making a difference for someone, even if you never know who it is.”

She gave me a smile. “You’re a good friend. I’m glad you moved to Chicago.”

“Me too.”

We looked at each other long enough that the atmosphere changed, the space between us becoming heated in a way that had nothing to do with the muggy summer temperature.

Without thinking about it, I reached out a hand and slid Frankie’s hair behind her ear, then dropped my hand to her shoulder. Her pupils dilated.

“Aurora?”

“Yeah?” My voice sounded scratchy from the emotions that were nearly choking me.

---