his home and welcoming me into it are two different things.” Her silence was all the confirmation I needed. “You know I’m right.”
“Robbie, that’s not true,” she denied.
“Yes, it is,” I told her. “And I don’t blame him, Frankie. His wife was kidnapped and beaten because of me. There’s no way he’d forgive that. How could he?”
“He doesn’t blame you, Robbie,” she replied, her voice begging me to believe her. “At first, he…I’ll admit he was livid, but that was before he knew the full story. That was before I explained that my injuries were a result of me being stubborn and reckless. That was before I explained how and why you got your injuries.”
“Frankie, even if that was the case, do you have any idea how uncomfortable visiting you would be for me?” I asked, bringing up the fact that there was more than just one issue standing between us. “You’re surrounded by…” God, I couldn’t even say it. My mind was so consumed with those three demons coming after me, I couldn’t even bring myself to talk about them over the phone. My mind kept going to phones being tapped and the FBI listening in.
Or worse.
Them listening in.
“I…I think you need to concentrate on that degree,” I finished lamely. “We can always talk on the phone. When we…can find time.”
“Robbie, you’re one of my closest friends,” she said with a hint of irritation in her voice. “I’m not just walking away from our friendship because…I suddenly got married.”
“Marriage isn’t the issue,” I pointed out. The problem wasn’t that she was married. It was who she was married to that was the problem.
“I know,” she quietly agreed.
“Look-”
“How about we make a deal?” Frankie jumped in.
“What kind of deal?”
“Come over for dinner-”
“Frankie-”
“Just listen, please?” I took a deep breath but kept silent. She took that as permission to go on. “Come over for dinner on Friday, and if you feel uncomfortable at all, or you feel Phoenix is being…rude, or impolite, or whatever, I’ll never ask you to come over again.”
“Jesus, Frankie,” I blurted out. “I’m going to feel uncomfortable before I even get my foot in the door.”
“I meant, if he makes you feel uncom-”
“He’s Phoenix Fiore, Frankie,” I yelped. “Hell, yeah, he’s going to make me feel uncomfortable.”
“You know what I mean, Robbie,” she scolded.
My anxiety was beating all the strength out of me. “I don’t have a car,” I reminded her, hanging onto that statement as an excuse. I had only had liability on my used car, so I was assed out for now.
“I can send a car for you or-”
The thought made my stomach turn. “No,” I objected. “I…I can rent a car.” If I did this, I didn’t want to be dependent on a ride back home. I wanted to be able to leave if things got…tense.
“I know I can’t…I know you feel how you feel, Robbie,” Frankie whispered over the phone. “But I promise you, Phoenix does not blame you. I don’t blame you. You are welcomed here.”
“Frankie-”
“I know I’m being selfish by asking this of you, but I miss you, Robbie,” she told me. “I miss you so much.”
My nose started to sting, and my eyes watered over. “I miss you, too,” I choked out, trying to contain my emotions. “It’s not the same here without you.” I couldn’t leave it at that, though. I needed to be completely honest with her. “Frankie?”
“Yeah?”
“The…the guilt is tearing me up,” I confessed. “I hear you say you don’t blame me, but that doesn’t lessen the guilt. When I think of the…snowball effect I created by blabbing my mouth to Randy-”
“Robbie, don’t do that to yourself.”
“I can’t help it,” I cried out. “You’re my best friend. The only person who’s always been there for me. You got hurt because of me!”
And it was the truth.
I didn’t have any siblings, and my parents and I weren’t close. My father and mother owned a small hardware store in Rocheport, Missouri and my father had taken exception to the fact that I wanted to move away from home. Our relationship had been reduced to random holiday phone calls because I couldn’t stand the condescension. My father often pointed out that I could have been a waitress in Rocheport.
“Robbie, did it ever occur to you that this entire situation is my fault?” she remarked, flooring me with her skewed logic.
“How do you figure that?” I asked incredulously.
“I’m the one who told you who I was,” she replied. “I’m the one