6: No, I Mentioned the Bisque

Frank went back to his house and unloaded the car. As bad as he felt, one doesn’t just leave a car full of stuff in Upper Darby. Not if you want to keep your windows intact, or your stuff. He threw it all down in the front room of the small row home. The first floor was basically four rooms in a row. First the room with the windows, next the living room, dining room, and at the back was the kitchen. Frank basically slept and went to work for the next week. Luckily, the guys left a futon behind when they moved out so Frank had a place to crash.

It was a bittersweet homecoming. He kind of missed that old house. He remembered how proud he was when he bought it. He was working hard selling Dodge cars from morning until late at night. He was also single and looking for wife material. He thought of the house as kind of wife bait. Plant a little rose bush out front, leave a trail of bread crumbs, and Miss Right would come walking right in. The perfect trap.  It worked, he found a woman who agreed to marry him, but she wasn’t Miss Right, she was Miss Green.

I remember meeting Kat for the first time. Frank brought her over to our house. Matt and I had been married a few years and we had just bought our first house too. We decided to have a little party to show off our new, but half empty house. I wasn’t sure what Frank saw in Kat at first. She seemed kind of bossy and judgmental. She had these eyes that looked everything over but didn’t say anything, like she expected so much better and was disappointed. It reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where Elaine says, “No, I mentioned the bisque.” Like Kat said, “I went to my boyfriends brother’s house, had some drinks, yada yada yada, we went home.”  “Oh!” says Jerry, “You left out the best part.”  “No” says Kat, “I mentioned the drinks.”

In all fairness I did find out what he saw in her later. Frank was impulsive and a little bit of a bad boy. Kat did not allow any nonsense, Frank had to tow the line with her. It was her way or the highway. While some men would rebel against the strict disciplinarian type woman, Frank seemed to enjoy that Kat cared enough to get tough with him. I think he was looking for a woman like his mother and he found her. She guided his career choices, told him what to eat, what to wear, where he could go and when he could go, and who he could go with. She made doctors appointments for him too and made sure he took care of himself; basically she was his new mom, and honestly, she looked the part too. She was good for him though and they seemed like they got along great.

Frank couldn’t help himself. He had to go by the house and see if everything was alright. He missed Frances and Eric terribly. He was also worried. They were probably old enough to stay by themselves for a short time, but still, Frank was the one who was there after school and he was the one who made dinner most nights. What were they doing without him? He also wanted to see Kat again. No matter what, he loved her and missed her. He waited until it was getting dark and parked his car a couple blocks away. He casually strolled down the street and tried to look like he belonged, even though, apparently, he didn’t any longer. He didn’t even think about the consequences if anyone saw him there. He was desperate to know anything about the kids and to see Kat again.

As he got closer he pulled his Phillies cap lower on his eyes and slowed down his pace. The lawn looked a little dry, someone should turn on the sprinkler. The kitchen light is on as usual. It’s eight o’clock so they’re probably getting ready to watch some TV. Frank turns the corner to go down Monroe Avenue on the side of the house to get a look at the garage.  Suddenly, the light goes on in the parlor where the TV is. It’s Bill, in his parlor. Frank can’t help himself, he’s pulled along closer to the house like he’s standing on one of those moving sidewalks at the airport. Frank hops up on top of Eric’s skateboard ramp to get a better look. There’s old Bill sitting in Frank’s chair with Frank’s dog Schmitty. It’s not enough that Bill took his wife, his kids, his house, his life; but now he’s got Schmitty too. That dog always was stupid.

In the old days, Frank might have put his fist right through that window and pulled old Bill out and pummeled him right out of his dancing shoes. Frank put his head down and turned and walked into the shadows back toward the car.