And Playing the Role of Herself (Frankiana)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"General Luna..." Squinting against the sinking afternoon sun, I slowed and double checked the name of the road before turning. I kept an eye on my rearview mirror after the turn, half expecting cars to follow me as they'd done all over the past week. No other car turned behind me and I gave a satisfied nod that the precautions Kiara suggested seemed to have been enough to throw the press off, at least for the time being.

Mae hadn't batted an eye when I'd told her I needed to get away for a few days and asked her to arrange my flight and a car without using my name, and it had been waiting, just as she promised, in long-term parking with the keys under the floor mat. A 40 minute drive from Del Carmen where Siargao Domestic Airport is, to General Luna.

Looking around with interest at the tall palms and shrub trees that kept the road hidden and essentially secluded from the nearby overseas highway.

I followed the directions and turned into a small break just before the turnaround. The lane opened up into a wide, sandy driveway and I pulled my practical, mid-sized sedan up behind a Mercedes convertible, smiling at our role reversal. If we went anywhere this weekend, Franki was definitely driving.

The house was bungalow, and Franki's little convertible was nestled in an open-air carport that took up half of the lower level. I got out of the car and stretched, looking through the carport, surprised to see how close the beach was to the house. No one came to greet me but I noticed curtains puff out through an open sliding glass door on the second floor, so I pulled my backpack and small suitcase from the trunk and climbed the stairs to the wrap-around deck on the second story, pushing up my sunglasses as I stepped through the door and looked around curiously.

The house was clean and neat, with a small living room opening into the kitchen on one side, and a hallway that I assumed led to the bedrooms on the other. The walls were white, the wood tile floors, and the comfortable looking sofa and loveseat facing a wooden cabinet that housed a television and other electronic equipment had a subdued, floral print. The kitchen was large and connected to a screen enclosed area of the wrap around deck, and a delicious aroma of garlic and spices filled the house.

"Franki?" I set my bags down and listened for a response. "Hello? Anyone home?"
My stomach grumbled and I followed the smell of food into the kitchen. A fresh loaf of French bread wrapped in paper sat on the counter, and a note was taped to the handle of the oven.
I knew this would get your attention.

I'm down on the beach - come watch the sunset.

There's beer in the fridge, bring one for me.

-F

I smiled and shook my head. The woman had my number.

After taking a quick peek in the oven to find a bubbling pan of lasagna with white sauce, I picked up my bags and carried them down the hall, hesitating momentarily at what was obviously the master bedroom before walking past to the next room and depositing my bags on the bed. I was dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt - I'd always disliked wearing shorts when I flew; something about the thought of my skin against the airplane seat just made me queasy - and I quickly
changed out of my traveling clothes and into shorts and a tank top.

Back into the kitchen I snagged two bottles of SanMig Light from the fridge and rummaged around in the kitchen drawers for an opener that I finally found attached to the fridge door with a magnet. Laughing at myself, I plucked it from the door, pulled the caps off, and walked out onto the deck facing the ocean.

Low vegetated rises bordering the stretch below the house and making it quite secluded. 100 feet from the house, near the water, two lounge chairs were set up looking out over the ocean. One was empty and the other occupied by a familiar dark-haired figure in a wide-brimmed hat.