The Other Gilmore

A Visitor, a Move, and a Party

It was the beginning of spring semester again. Frankie hadn't seen Finn in about a month because he had been out of town, and she had been home. Conflicting schedules was making it hard to find time to see each other.

Just as she was finishing her French studying for the day, her phone rang.

"Hello?" Frankie answered, closing the textbook and sitting down on her bed.

"Hey, kiddo, how are you?"

"Hey, dad! I'm good, how are you?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Listen, I was in the neighborhood, and I'm hoping you're home. I'd love to see your place."

"Yeah, I'm home. Where are you?"

"I think outside your building. Your mom gave me your address."

Frankie sprang up from her bed and grabbed her keys, rushing down the stairs and out the front door. As soon as she stepped outside into the brisk air, she saw Christopher standing across the street with a huge smile on his face.

"Dad!" she exclaimed, rushing across the road and into his open arms.

"I missed you, kid."

"I missed you, too. Why are you here?" she asked, pulling away.

"Had some business to take care of. Plus, I haven't seen or heard from you in a while."

"I'm sorry about that. I've been meaning to make it out to Boston, I've just been busy."

"No worries, Frank. I get it."

Frankie smiled up at her dad, happy to see him. "So, you want to come up?"

"Yeah, definitely. Lead the way."

The pair crossed the street, heading into the building and up to Frankie's apartment.

"Here it is," she said, opening the door and walking through, Christopher trailing behind her. "It's not much, but I like it. You remember Kayla, right?"

"Of course. How could I forget your best friend?"

She laughed and nodded. "Well, her room is right over there, and my roommate from last year also lives with us, and that's her room right there." Frankie pointed out the rooms, then gave her father the quick tour of the apartment. "And this is my room."

Christopher walked into the room and looked around, gazing at every detail Frankie had added to make the space her own.

"You have all your medals and trophies," he said with a grin, picking up one of her earliest dance trophies from the bookshelf.

Frankie smiled, walking over to her father. "Yeah, of course. Can't forget where I came from."

"So," he started, clearing his throat as he placed the trophy back in its spot, "seeing your apartment isn't the only reason I'm here."

Frankie cocked her head and gestured for her dad to take a seat in her desk chair.

With a sigh, Christopher sat down, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "My dad died."

"Oh, my God. Dad, I'm so sorry," Frankie said softly, getting up and giving her father another hug.

"Thank you."

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm okay. Not great, but managing. He was diagnosed about a month ago, but it was just too bad to deal with it at that point."