In Loving Memory, Frank Warren

Chapter 16: Back Home

"Why?" Frank demanded. His body ached. Every muscle protested movement and demanded rest. His feet refused to lift into the air, only shuffling forward across the worn hall carpet.

"Can you just do it because I asked you to?" Dean asked, jingling the door key in his hand.

"No. I want a better reason," he whined, his mood sour. All Frank wanted right now was his nice soft sofa and no nurses waking him up every hour to take his stupid blood pressure. Stupid doctor's orders. Stupid hospital.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

With an aggravated groan, Dean unlocked the door. Frank had been released early enough for Dean to take him home and still make the afternoon work appointments.

He heard Dean mutter something involving 'mom' under his breath as Frank passed into the condo. He paused.

"Your mom is coming over?" he asked hopefully. "Can she bring more albums?"

"She can," Dean sighed. "But don't expect her to agree with you, Mom is on my side as far as therapy goes."

Making a face, Frank headed for the sofa. He had been in bed enough lately. "You haven't met the bitch and her stupid pen."

"I can." Dean oversaw him sit on the sofa. "Do you want me to go with you? I will."

He would, too. Frank knew this fact as well as he knew his own name. Instead of it making him feel loved and protected, he felt argumentative. "Why? Why should I go? There's nothing wrong with me. And I don't like her."

With a sigh Dean helped him stretch out on the sofa. The guest pillow was brought out and the blanket draped across the back of the sofa in case he wanted it later.

"Baby..." Dean perched on the edge of the wood coffee table. He stared into Frank's eyes for an uncomfortable time before speaking. "How about this. You ask everyone who was at the party, which is everybody you worry about, if they think you should go. If one person says no, I'll drop it."

Considering accepting the deal, Frank pondered the other's reactions. Not good. He firmly suspected the only dissenting voices would be the kids, and then only assuming he could ask them before their parents knew about the deal. Fat chance. Two seconds after Dean left his sight there would be multiple phone calls, the first to John.

"I think if I agreed, I'd have to go to therapy," Frank sighed, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "I don't know why everybody thinks I should go. Believe me, if you met her..."

"I'd probably take away her pen," Dean replied, leaning forward to kiss his forehead as he stood. "Want something to eat? Tomorrow we see the cardiologist and the day after will be your new nutritionist and the trainer."

"Trainer?" Frank did not like the sounds of this. "What trainer?"

"Exercise," Dean replied. "You need a good trainer to get back in shape and to design a cardio fitness program which won't push too hard."

"I thought you were going to do the fitness stuff," he complained, "not some stranger."

"Oh." Dean plopped back down on the table. "Well, I can do the gym part, I think. Not the program itself, I'll need him to plan it out for you, but we can try to do the actual workouts ourselves." The warm smile which belonged only to Frank made Dean's face far more handsome. "If you want."

"Definitely," Frank agreed in relief. "And I promise to talk to your mom about the therapist. She's good at figuring things out, maybe she can explain why you and John think it's so freaking important."