Page 29 of Supernova

“No, sir,” Bobby said, hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, eyes ahead.

Frankie wanted to cry. She opened the bag with hesitation, then pulled a tiny black beaded dress from it that looked like some sort of truncated flapper’s costume. “This?” she asked in a small voice.

“That,” Whit said. “Bare legs, high heels, no panties.”

Frankie’s head and heart both begin to pound. “No.” She said the word before she could stop herself. “No way.”

In one swift and unexpected movement, Whit slapped the side of her head; even Bobby winced, though he didn’t turn his head and he didn’t apply the brakes.

Frankie cried out in surprise, putting one hand to her head.

“Get changed. Now.” Whit slid away from her just enough so that she had room to wiggle out of her dance clothes and slip the dress over her head. The beads clicked all around her as she pulled the dress over her head, and then Whit zipped the back. “Panties off,” he said again, nudging her leg.

If she didn’t want to get slapped again, Frankie knew she’d have to comply. Regretfully, she slid her black underwear offfrom beneath the dress and tried to fold them up to put in her purse. Whit snatched them from her and tucked them into the breast pocket of his coat instead.

“You’ll be performing this evening,” he said to her, patting the back of Bobby’s seat again. “We’re here. Pull over at the curb,” he commanded.

“Performing what?” Frankie asked. She was exhausted already from being on stage all evening with the Rockettes, and couldn’t even imagine what Whit had in mind.

“You’ll see,” he said, opening the car door. He slid out and offered her his hand, which she knew was more to ensure that she got out on the curb side of the car rather than bolting into traffic. He held her hand tightly. “The answer to any request you get tonight is ‘yes,’” he said. “Do I make myself clear?”

A sob escaped from Frankie’s throat and she nearly fell to her knees, already terrified of what he might mean.

As she recalls this scene, real sobs rack Frankie’s body, though she doesn’t even realize that she’s crying, nor does she notice that the storm has broken as the thunder and lightning move off in the distance, leaving a hard rain in its wake.

“Francesca?” Enzo stands there with the sliding door open, watching his daughter as she sits in the rain on the patio. “Frankie? Come in here!” he shouts, stepping out into the onslaught and reaching for her.

Frankie can barely hear her father’s voice over the sound of her own crying and the pummeling of the rain against the pavement and the roof. Water slaps against water as rain pounds the pool. She stands and reaches for her father’s hands, letting him wrap her under one of his arms and pull her into the house. Enzo slides the glass door closed behind them and then stands there, watching his daughter shiver and cry as water drips onto the kitchen floor.

“Francesca,” he says gently, worry in his voice and all over his face. “My darling, what’s wrong? Why are you out there?”

“Oh, Papa,” she says as she falls into his arms.

Rather than pushing his soaking wet daughter away, Enzo holds her tightly. “You can tell Papa anything,” he croons, holding her with puzzlement and worry. “You can tell me.”

Frankie knows she can tell him, but she also knows that she shouldn’t. It would break her poor, hardworking father’s heart to hear the kinds of things his little girl had gone through. And so she stands there, shaking like a leaf until her dad walks her back to the bathroom, turns on the hot shower for her, and then promises that he’ll sit up for the rest of the night in the front room—just in case she needs him.

FOURTEEN

jo

The car swingsinto the NASA lot as Frankie and Jo survey the area.

“Up front,” Frankie says, pointing at an area designated for visitors.

“This is crazy,” Jo says from behind her sunglasses, her eyes quickly scanning around just in case Bill is out there. Perhaps he forgot something in his car, or maybe he’s going out to lunch. In either case, she doesn’t want him to see her—not yet, anyway.

“Just park,” Frankie instructs her.

They pull into a spot and Jo turns off the car. “What now?”

“Listen, Jo, you want to see this girl with your own eyes, so now we have to find a way to bump into her accidentally-on-purpose.”

Jo blows out a long breath. She already regrets this and they haven’t even done anything but drive over to the place where their husbands work. But there had been something about the way Bill bounded over to the phone the night that Jeanie Florence called, and something in the tone of his voice as he’d talked on the phone…Jo can’t quite put her finger on it, but it had bothered her. It’s still bothering her. The whole situationhas been tickling at the back of her brain, and like any woman, she won’t rest until her curiosity is satisfied.

“You brought him a lunch, and now all you have to do is walk in, ask to see him, and hope that you get invited back to an office where this little minx will be walking around in a miniskirt and high heels.”

Jo looks at her dubiously over the top of her sunglasses. “I hardly think a serious scientist will be strutting around in a short skirt, Frankie.”

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