Page 11 of Ready to Score

The “just in case” hadn’t come, not really. Sure, she and Caroline had broken up in just under six months of moving across the country together. And sure, Caroline had packed her shit and hightailed it out of her own hometown within a few days, headed who knew where. But the only thing that had gotten hurt or scammed was Franny’s heart. And even then, it hadn’t taken her as long to get over Caroline as she’d expected.

Originally, she’d planned to stay in Greenbelt just long enough to stop her head from spinning and save money. But then she’d gotten a real job and settled in, and well… sure, the place was tiny and unlike anything else she’d ever experienced. But she liked it. She didn’t know why, but she did. There was something here that kept her from leaving.

Still, almost every week, she made the three-hour drive from Greenbelt to Columbia to see the only family she had in the state. During the school year, this time was relegated to the weekend. But with football practices happening every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday and poker on Thursday nights, she had to squeeze the time in during the week.

She’d hopped in the car straight after practice that afternoon, still smelling like sweet sweat and grass. She had spent the first hour of her trip with all the windows in her little Prius down, trying to air herself out.

After she arrived in the city, her first stop was a gas station. Her six-year-old niece, Amelia, would refuse her entry into the family’shome if Franny didn’t present her with a slushie within three seconds of greeting her.

Franny had a key to their home, but she rarely used it. Instead, she rang the bell, then obnoxiously showed her open mouth to the little doorbell camera, hoping to annoy her brother.

Instead, it was her sister-in-law who answered the door. Yao was a tiny thing. A Taiwanese woman with shoulder-length black hair, an oval-shaped face, and the softest eyes of anyone Franny had ever seen.

“Franny!” Yao looked shocked to see her.

“This is not a pop-in.” Franny would never have been so rude. “I told Oppa I was coming.”

Yao’s face went blank for a second, thinking, then the remembrance hit. “That’s right… You know, your brother talks so much, sometimes I have to tune some of it out.”

Franny snorted. Will was the most laid-back of all the Lim children, but he had a mouth like a motor. She imagined he’d probably mentioned her stopping by to his wife in rushed words somewhere between a suggestion for a new restaurant and recalling a childhood memory.

“Where is he anyway?”

Yao’s family owned a local residential real estate company where she worked as an agent, and Will was the executive chef at a popular Korean restaurant in town. Neither of them worked a traditional nine to five, so it wasn’t uncommon for them both to be home in the middle of the day. Especially when Amelia was out of school.

Her sister-in-law huffed, then rolled her eyes. “He took the girl-child to my parents’ house to see the new little rat dog my mom got.” She tapped her phone screen, then turned it toward Franny, showing her a picture of her adorable niece, her small face with her mother’s eyes and her father’s chin smooshed to a scraggly brown puppy. “They’re trying to convince me to let them get one.”

“Oh, good luck to them,” Franny said, laughing. Yao was maybe the kindest person she’d ever met, but she was not a fan of animals in her space.

“Can you believe I’m actually thinking about it?” Yao crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the kitchen island. “This is what love does to you, Francesca. It makes you actually consider ruining your beautiful new carpet with dog pee. Don’t do it, babe. Do. Not. Do. It.”

A year ago, Franny would have cackled at that and meant it—six months ago, even. All she could muster now was a strained choking sound meant to masquerade as a laugh. She was finding herself increasingly impatient for when she would find her girl. It was so crappy to feel like you’d finally gotten your hands on something, the thing you wanted most in the world, something you were willing to change your whole life for. Just to have it completely ripped out from under you.

Caroline, her ex, had been everything Franny had thought she wanted in a partner. Passionate and smart, artistic and joyful. She danced samba and had visited every country in South America at least once. She painted when she was angry, and when they argued—which was often—she often said things that made Franny feel like she was in some screwed-up episode ofThe L Word.

It hadn’t been perfect, or anything close to it, but Franny had been so tired of it all. How many first dates at breweries could a person go on before they snapped? How many “I’m in love with my ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend” stories could she hear before she just completely went off the rails?

Lately, she went to bed wishing her pillow smelled like someone else’s hair. And when she woke up without an arm slung across her waist, all she felt was a deep, clenching loneliness.

Honestly, she felt a little pathetic. But every time she turned on her phone, she saw cute couples on Instagram. Every time she was out, she saw them walking the streets, hands clasped. Even now, ather brother’s house, she was confronted with the fact that she was very much not in love.

Yao, to her credit, seemed to sense that something was up with Franny’s response. She winced slightly, then placed a sympathetic hand on Franny’s shoulder. “Obviously, I’m exaggerating, and you’re going to be fine. You’re so hot you could literally find somebody to fall in love with you today.”

Franny snorted. “And yet here I am, with a zit the size of Texas on my chin and no wife. What’s all this sexy mean if I have no wife, Yao?” She was being dramatic for show, but saying it felt cathartic nonetheless.

“The wife I can’t help you with, not after the last time,” Yao said.

“Yeah, no, your lesbian friend from high school who lives in the converted van was nice but definitely not for me,” Franny said, shooting her a smile.

It was her sister-in-law’s turn to roll her eyes. “But Icando something about the pimple. Come upstairs with me.”

Thirty minutes later, she and Yao descended from the primary bedroom together. Franny’s hair was pulled back away from her face with a pink terry cloth headband, and a thick, hard mask was drying on her face. Just as she reached the last step, the front door opened, and her brother and niece came stumbling into the house.

Amelia was first, looking up at Franny with brown eyes wide in surprise. Before she could think of anything else to do, Franny brought her hands up, curled them like claws in front of her face, and growled with a nasty snarl.

Two years ago, her little niece would have run away screaming, resulting in Franny chasing her around the house. But she was ten now—practically grown up, as evidenced by the glittery pink nail polish on her fingers. So she just laughed, a tinkling little sound that made Franny grin wider as the little girl flew into her arms.

“Gomo, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I didn’t know you were coming.”

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