In Loving Memory, Frank Warren

Chapter 24: Kelly Understood

Plopping down behind his desk Frank felt strange, almost as if he were starting a new job. He was early and wide awake, formerly a rare combination. It felt new. A new life, new love, new job.

"There he is!" John grinned from the doorway. Practically leaping into the guest chair, he leaned on Frank's desk from the opposite side. "Good weekend? No, don't tell me the details, I just want to know if you bought a new cell."

With a heavily put-upon sigh, Frank removed the horrid thing from his pocket to lay on the desk. John's grin beamed.

"What's my ringtone?" he demanded, unclipping his cell from the stupid holster. "It had better not be Olivia Newton-John."

"Go ahead, see for yourself," Frank offered, knowing John would try it out anyway.

"What's your new number?" John demanded, peering down at the cell in his hand.

After checking a slip of paper in his wallet, he gave John the number. Frank watched carefully as John programmed the new number. Then he received his second ever call on it as the opening strands of The William Tell Overture played.

Chuckling, John ended the call. "I can live with it. I was afraid you'd stick with the Grease theme and go with Beauty School Drop-Out or Sandra Dee."

"I thought about the we go together song at the end, but this sounded more like you," Frank admitted. "I might have Dean change it later to the theme song from El Dorado, but I haven't decided yet."

"Good," John grinned. "I like the way you're talking, like you'll actually keep the phone. Maybe even use it. This is good. Your therapist is going to be pleased when you tell her."

"Maybe," Frank hedged.

"Maybe what?" Alarm radiated from the stiffness taking over John's posture. "Maybe you'll tell her?"

"I will if I go," Frank replied as an insane guilt spread, as if he were violating a confidence. It was insane because his next admission would not technically betray anyone though he knew for a fact it would cause dissension between his best friend and his love.

Eyes hardening to match the stiffness in his shoulders, John glared at him. "And why wouldn't you go?"

Dropping his voice to a whisper, Frank replied, "Dean doesn't want me to."

Both eyebrows shot up John's forehead and his eyes went comically wide. "Excuse me? Why the hell not?"

Fiddling with the phone on his desk, spinning it on its back to distract him from the anger facing him, Frank shrugged. "I don't understand it. He had a nightmare about Jim and now he doesn't want me to go."

"What the hell does your lousy rich cousin have to do with your therapist?" John demanded. An undercurrent of pure anger ran through his words and Frank had a flashback to their last heated argument.

"Don't," he asked, pleaded, as his eyes darted up to test the waters. John was boiling over. Damn it. "Please don't. I don't think I can survive a repeat of New Year's."

Hands splayed flat on Frank's desk, John took several deep breaths.

"You won't have to," John stated, anger restrained. Frank knew it was not gone, not by a long shot. They were back to simmering mode. Joy.

"Did he say anything about this nightmare?" John's voice betrayed the lingering anger and Frank tried not to flinch. His Life was finally falling back in order, lining up the way it should, he did not need more crap piling up in the way.

Shrugging again, Frank diverted his gaze back to the stupid cell phone. It was easier to look at than an angry John.

"Some garbage about my therapist being married to Jim, and then Jim locking me up in a hospital where I forgot about everybody, including Dean." He watched as the shiny metal surrounding the touchscreen glinted under the fluorescent lights as it spun.