Saying Goodbye (What the World Doesn't Know) (30 page)

            “This goes against everything I value, but perhaps I need to put my values aside for my daughter’s sake.”

            Upstairs Frankie woke up and reached into her closet for Alex’s tuxedo jacket from the ball. She slipped it on to feel closer to him. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she stared at the pictures of Alex on the wall. In a couple days he was going to be her husband and in seven months they were going to be parents. For some unknown reason, Frankie started to cry. She couldn’t tell it if was out of sadness or happiness.

           
Am I mourning my youth and the loss of my career,
she wondered,
or am I filled with excitement at the idea of being a wife and mother?
Maybe it was everything combined that caused her to feel so emotional.

 

            A few nights later, Marcus returned with a takeout order of burgers and fries to satisfy Frankie’s latest craving. She greedily dug into the bag, laid out the food on the table, and then walked to the cabinet for a bottle of vinegar. “Did you know in England they don’t put ketchup on their fries? They eat them with vinegar. And they don’t call them fries, they call them chips; and they call chips crisps,” she explained to Geraldine.

            “Those Brits are so fascinating,” said Geraldine sarcastically as she unwrapped her burger. “Do you want to get some plates and silver where why you’re up? After all, we’re not animals.”

            Frankie retrieved a handful of plates and silverware and placed them around the table. “Well, we
are
mammals.”

            Geraldine lit a cigarette and replied, “I’d like to think mankind has evolved to a higher state of being.”

            “And what state would that be?” questioned Frankie. “How are we a higher state?”

            Rolling her eyes, Geraldine didn’t respond. She didn’t want to get into a philosophical debate with her young, pregnant daughter.

            There was a knock at the door. Marcus quickly answered it. A moment later he was leading Stanley inside the house and thanking him for coming.

            “What’s Stanley doing here?” asked Frankie softly to Geraldine.

            “There’s an extra burger in the bag for you,” Marcus told Stanley, gesturing toward the kitchen. Marcus chose to eat his meal standing. He was still having a hard time even looking at Frankie.

            Stanley peeked in the bag and pulled out his dinner. “Thanks,” he said. Stanley approached Frankie and placed his fat, hairy hand on her shoulder. “How is my favorite client?”

            “Pregnant,” she said bluntly. “But then I guess you knew that; I suspect that is why you’re here.”

            “Well, I do have a vested interest,” he said. He took a large bite from his burger.

            “So I get it—this is an intervention,” guessed Frankie.

            “Honey, we’re here to talk to you. We all love you and want what’s in your best interest,” said Geraldine. “Have a seat.”

            Frankie plopped down in her seat and folded her arms defiantly. “All right, talk.”

            “How thoroughly did you think about your decision to marry Alex?” asked Geraldine.

            “Very,” Frankie responded, adding more vinegar to her fries.

            “I want you to imagine something for me,” said Geraldine. “Imagine being at your house in England with a baby—you don’t know anyone, you don’t have any friends, your family is far away, and Alex is on tour somewhere in the world.”

            “Well, I’ll have the other band members’ wives to hang out with,” responded Frankie.

            “Imagine all the women around the world screaming for your husband, trying to meet him, kiss him, and have sex with him,” continued Geraldine. “And imagine some of those girls succeeding.”

            Frankie eyed Geraldine just as she was about to bite into her burger. She set it down and asked, “What do you mean
succeeding
? Where are you getting this crap?”

            “A reporter who followed the band on tour,” said Stanley. “He filled me in on the band’s extracurricular activities while on the road and even at home.”

            Frankie sat back in her chair. “Reporters? That’s what you got? Reporters make up shit just to sell stories.”

            “This is not about reporters; it is about Alex,” said Marcus. “The issue is Alex’s behavior, attitude, and actions.”

            “It’s not all Alex, you know,” Frankie said, defending him. “How would you like it if there was constantly a microphone shoved at your mouth, cameras constantly flashing wherever you went? Don’t you think you’d get a little punchy? And the women? Yes, I know all about them, hanging around all over the place—outside the stage door, hotel entrances, airports—constantly screaming. Can you honestly tell me you’d have supreme will power to avoid temptation? Alex is a product of his environment; it is not
him
. What you see is not who he is.”

            “He obviously isn’t that sweet boy next door his manager tries to sell to girls,” said Marcus. “Besides, is Alex’s environment suitable for raising a family? Once you marry—once you have the baby—the press will follow you everywhere.”

            “Like they do now?” argued Frankie.

            “Yes, Frankie, but you’ve never punched anyone,” said Stanley. “You’ve never thrown drinks at photographers.”

            Frankie laughed with a shrug.

            Stanley looked back and forth between Geraldine and Marcus and then shook his head. “Well, I honestly do know that Alex’s manager is not happy with the news either,” said Stanley as he took another bite of  his burger.

            “Too bad. It’s private between Alex and me,” said Frankie.

            Stanley wiped his mouth clean of burger drippings. “Alex has already received death threats, he’s been beaten up, and he’s had food thrown at him. When the news breaks about you being knock . . . about having a baby with America’s prettiest girl, can you imagine how much more dangerous it will be for Alex?” he asked and chuckled as he looked around the table with a hint of irony. “Talk about your British Invasion. Looks like Alex Rowley didn’t just invade; he colonized.”

            Marcus glared at Stanley and then tried to appeal to Frankie by saying: “Not to mention for you and the baby.”

            Geraldine studied Frankie and still saw defiance in her eyes. “Well, it’s no matter. She will already have a built-in English nanny.”

            “What do you mean by that?” questioned Frankie. “I’m not going have a nanny raise my child.”

            “Well, I’m just referring to Alex’s live-in girlfriend. I supposed she can help you with the rearing of your child,” explained Geraldine.

            Frankie sank in her seat. This was an angle she hadn’t thought of. She bit her bottom lip, remembering when Alex was punched at a concert. She was keenly aware of what he went through and his anxiety around fans, but the fact that he was
still
living with his girlfriend was what sank to her very soul.

            Geraldine leaned across the table urging Frankie. “One of you needs to be the sensible one. Sometimes being a grown up means having to make very difficult decisions.”

            Frankie choked. “What difficult decisions?”

            Stanley sat upright and said rhetorically, “You know, Frankie, I must give Alex Rowley credit. He is a lot smarter than I expected. His advice to you was . . . what? Don’t tell anyone? Keep it a secret? Do you know why he said that, Frankie?”

            Frankie shook her head numbly.

            “Because he
knows
the repercussions and the dangers; he knows your parents would disapprove and try to convince you otherwise. He knows what it will do to your career and reputation, but he wants you and indeed wants to marry you. He’s sneakily rushing you into this and then
you’ll
have to face the fallout,” said Stanley. He then looked up at Marcus and said, “Smart kid. It’s very street.”                                                                             

            “That’s why it’s important for you to be the wise one; you have to be the adult here, Frankie,” said Geraldine. “This is more than just romantic and passionate love; this is life, and it will affect both you and Alex’s lives forever. You can love him with all your heart and soul, but do you want ruin your future happiness, your career, your reputation? Do you want to put Alex’s life in more danger? Because you’re pregnancy will do that. It seems obvious he’s willing to risk your career and reputation, are you willing to risk
his
life?”

            Frankie looked down and rubbed her belly. “What about the life of my baby?” Looking around the table into the eyes of her parents and agent she only saw a wall of resistance. As far as they were concerned, the decision had already been made. They were trying to sway her over to their side, and it was working.

            Tears started to drip down her cheeks. This was a decision she never dreamed she would have to make and it was devastating. “Excuse me,” she said and then rushed away from the table.

 

            Upstairs Frankie sat on the edge of her bed and stared at all the pictures of Alex hanging on her wall. A Dark Knights record spun on the turntable. Before she met Alex and the rest of the Dark Knights, she never really listened to the lyrics of their songs; they were all just a good, heavy rock beat to dance, similar to the Animals—heavy lyrics to match their beat.

            “Precipice of Indecision” was a song inspired by Alan Ginsberg poetry in which Robbie Marin was quite a fan. Reclining back in her bed, she listened to the pain in Robbie’s voice as he sang:

 

 

            Something about the song was prophetic for Frankie, sitting alone with the biggest decision of her own life. She wondered what was
really
going on with Alex, where he was and did he
really
love her. Sure it’s easy to write songs and poetry, but what does it really mean when a man’s actions are lacking. There was a knock on the door to which Frankie did not respond. She slumped on her bed as her mother entered.

            Geraldine sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the floor. “I have a secret that only your father knows. I was single and pregnant once.”

            Frankie wiped eyes and looked at her mother. “When?”

            “I was seeing this man around the same time I was dating your father, and I got pregnant,” explained Geraldine. “When the other man found out, he dashed. Your father was such a kind, gentle soul; he agreed to make an honest woman of me.”

            “So you mean
Eddie
is . . .” replied Frankie.

            “I don’t know for sure. But it was a big lesson for me about love and men
—
some men will be there for you and some will not. It is what all women must look for when it comes to love and settling down into marriage.” Geraldine glanced up at the pictures of Alex on the wall. “Although he seems to be doing the right thing, I’m convinced he is not capable of being there for you one hundred percent.” She put her arm around Frankie’s shoulder. “You and your baby deserve a husband and father that will be there one hundred percent, not when he’s in town, available, or when it suits his mood.”

            Frankie buried her head in her hands. The truth from her mother sank very deep. “Mom, I can’t tell you how much I love him.”

            Geraldine patted Frankie on the shoulder. “There is love and then there is marriage.” She stood from the bed and quietly left the room.

            “Mom,” Frankie cried tearfully. “Then what do I do?”

            Geraldine stopped and turned back to Frankie. “Do what is best for
you,
Frankie.” She left Frankie alone, closing the door behind her.

            Collapsing on her pillow, Frankie finally gave her pregnancy heavy consideration. Everything she valued went against the idea of giving up her baby. She had heard stories of pregnancies out of wedlock and always thought that what people needed to do was take responsibility for their actions. She and Alex were taking responsibility; they were doing what was expected of them. Now her parents and agent were selling her a different perspective
—
a reasonable and sensible one. She was so confused.

            She couldn’t sleep that night. Turning to see the clock, she saw the minute hand was just about to strike twelve.
It’s five o’clock in the morning in England,
she thought. Frankie needed to talk to him, scream at him, cry to him. She was so afraid, so uncertain, and so very angry.
How could he possibly continue to live with her?
she thought.
She should have been gone the moment I told Alex I was pregnant and he said he’d marry me.

            Frankie rose from her bed and snuck downstairs to the living room. She sat down on the couch, lifted the telephone receiver and dialed. A part of her hoped Sarah would answer the phone so she could tell her what a two-timing, lousy-ass, lying boyfriend she had. She waited for someone (anyone) to answer the phone.

            In England, Alex stretched awake in his bed with Sarah’s arm draped over his chest. It was growing harder sleeping with Sarah. She always just wanted him and made everything so easy no matter his avoidance by staying out late with friends, or business with tours and the studio.