The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (54 page)

“Ellen, who the hell are you kidding? Jesus Christ himself could walk in this lab and you’d tell him he looks bad compared to Frank.”

“I can’t believe you just said something like that. That is really blasphemous.”

Dean laughed loudly at her remark. “That comment is coming from the woman who is personally seeing that Beginnings becomes
another Sodom and Gomorrah?”

Ellen shrieked, “I’m leaving.”

“Go.”

“I’m going.”

“Good.”

His loud, long clearing of his throat, followed by a snicker was all Frank had to do. But then of course he wouldn’t be Frank if he didn’t have something smart to say. “Is it my imagination or are the love sparks just flying about in this room.”

Ellen turned to look at Frank. “Hi, Frank.” She smiled, her demeanor changing, and then, as her top lip quivered from hiding her laughter she ran to the other counter.

Dean saw her do this. “I thought you were leaving.”

“Nope.” Ellen shook her head. “I have to stay, especially now. Say hello to Frank. Say Hi to Frank, Dean.”

“No I’m not saying ‘hi’ to him.” Dean looked at Frank. “Why are you here?”

“To see El, like it’s any of your business.” Frank walked in. “We’re having lunch today together?”

“Not today.” Ellen pretended to work. “I’m having lunch with Henry. I won’t see him until later. Remember he works late in Mechanics on Thursdays.”

“That’s right. Robbie’s coming over after his flight for dinner. We have to fatten him up you know. So you’ll be at the house with the kids tonight with me?”

“Until Dean picks them up then I’ll stay with you and Nick. Huh Dean, tell Frank you’ll pick the kids up.”

“He knows I’m picking him up,” Dean commented.

“Tell him again.”

“No Ellen. He knows.” Dean grew irritated.

Ellen huffed in frustration. “Who knows?”

“Ellen.” Dean snapped. “You’ve been hanging around him too much. Can you two take this conversation somewhere else? I’m busy.”

“Dean.” Ellen shifted her eyes to Frank. “Tell Frank about why . . .”

“No.” Dean turned to him. “I’m not telling him anything, Just go.”

“Not tell who anything?” Ellen quizzed.

Dean’s eyes widened. “What is wrong with you? This is a payback for our fight isn’t it?”

“What were we fighting about? Better yet. Who were we fighting about?”

“El,” Frank called her, “I’m heading out. I’ll see you at home tonight and don’t cook,” he instructed. “Robbie’s eating with us. And . . . Dean, I want you to know, I did that hypnotizing shit. It worked. I’m fine. Tomorrow is your turn.”

“Swell.” Dean shook his head.

“Frank.” Ellen raced out. “Don’t go, stay.”

“I have to go El,” Frank smiled. “Robbie has an appointment with Andrea to get on this protein stuff and I want to be there to go over an exercise and build up program for him with her. Unless . . . .” He leaned down to her ear. “You tell me you want to go back over to containment in your office and pick up where my Dad interrupted.” He laughed when he heard Dean slam something. “What’s the matter, Dean?”

“Go away,” Dean said “Bother someone else.”

Ellen held on to Frank’s arm. “Frank, don’t go. I . . . . I uh need your help, Dean’s too. Dean?” She let go of Frank. “I’m gonna play a word association game with my survivors. Can you help? Frank, stay.” She hurried and grabbed a notebook. “O.K.” She held her pencil ready and looked sneaky. “What is another word for hotdog?”

“Wiener,” Dean answered and rolled his eyes at Frank’s snickering. “What? You know another one?”

“Yeah.” He said. “A Frank. Ha, see how good I am at this?”

“Aw,” Ellen whined. “Let’s try it again. Dean, what is a one syllable word for when you are short with someone . . .”

“Dick,” Frank yelled out.

“No.” Ellen told him. “Let me finish. It’s when you try to explain something and you explain it in a short way.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders even though he wasn’t up for her word game. “I don’t know.”

“Come on Dean.” Ellen beckoned. “Think, one syllable. All right, finish this sentence. ‘I need to be honest with you, can I be quite . . .’”

Frank snapped his fingers. “I know. Straight forward.”

Dean gasped, “What is wrong with you? She said one syllable you idiot.”

“Dean!” Frank yelled.

“Frank!” Dean snapped back.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open and Ellen’s shriek of laughter was followed by a ‘thump’ when her head hit the counter. Stunned, Dean stepped to Frank. “W . . . what?”

“Huh?” Frank asked back.

“What did you just say to me?”

“When?”

“Just now,” Dean said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You did too,” Dean argued.

“I did not,” Frank shifted.

“Frank . . .”

“I love you, Dean.”

Again Ellen shrieked and laughed. Dean spun to her then back to Frank. “You did it again.”

“What?”

“Frank, you just . . .”

“I love you, Dean.”

“See!” Dean held out his hand. “You said it again.”

“Said what?” Frank began to get annoyed.

“What you just said.”

“I didn’t say anything! Man, are you fuckin gone. No wonder everyone is talking about your nervous condition. Wait until they hear that you’re hearing voices now, too.” Frank shook his head and walked over to a laughing Ellen. “See Dean, even Ellen can’t take you serious. I’ll see you later, El.” He bent down to kiss her.

Ellen could barely speak, barely catch her breath. Holding her stomach, she turned her cheek for Frank to kiss. “Bye, Frank.”

Shaking his head, Frank backed up. He started to leave, stopped, looked once more at Dean, shook his head, and then finally left.

Dean’s mouth still hung open. “What the hell was that all about? I know you heard that.”

“We’re fighting, remember. I don’t know what I heard.” Ellen walked to the door.

“El . . .”

“
Bye, Dean.”

“El.”

“I came to see what I wanted to see and now I must leave. I’ll see--no pun intended--you later.” She let out a ‘whew’ from her laughter and halted at the door holding up her hand. “I will leave you with this to ponder until you pick up the kids tonight at Frank’s. What did Frank do today? What was I trying to get you to do? When you finally inadvertently did what I was trying to get you to do, what happened when you finally did it? Figure it out.” With a wiggle of her fingers, another snicker, Ellen left the lab.

Dean ran his hands through his hair and then tossed his hands up. “She forgot to say ‘riddle me this’.” Backing up, Dean reached for a stool and grabbed a piece of paper. “Now what did she just say?” Thinking about it, Dean wrote down Ellen’s clues so he could try to make heads or tails out of what she said so he could make heads or tails out of what just transpired with Frank in his lab. While writing down and thinking back, Dean began to laugh.

<><><><>

Dinner was nearly done. Robbie would be there shortly. Dean was going to be late picking up the kids. Everything was ready for a family dinner. So where was Ellen? Frank wondered. What in the world was taking her so long to bathe Alexandra? He knew Alex was fighting taking a bath, but did Ellen need to be up there that long? Frank knew what he did when Alex started her whining. Fill the tub, take off her clothes, toss her in, and get her out. Five minutes tops. Of course doing it Frank-style meant getting wet.

Since he wanted to have everyone together, Frank finished the drink he was sneaking in before Ellen came down, and went up to find her. Outside the bathroom door, he heard the reason for the delay. The bathtub water wasn’t running but the shower was. The water-muffled two voices told him what was happening. Frank wanted to hear what they could possibly have to ramble on about so he walked into the bathroom silently. Closing the door, he crept through and sat down, using the commode as a seat. He placed his elbows on his knees, leaning toward the shower curtain and listened to Ellen and Alex--mother and daughter--cackling like little girls and obviously taking a shower together. That must have been the only way Ellen could convince Alexandra to get clean. Frank enjoyed the moment, really enjoyed it, especially when Ellen would give her ‘Ellen’ tips to her daughter. Keeping in his snicker of enjoyment, he closed his eyes and took in the moment listening.

“See Alex, you put your leg on the edge of the tub like this.” Ellen showed her daughter. “Watch Mommy shave her leg and do the same. Only yours isn’t a real razor. You have to live with those hairy things still for a while.” Ellen shaved and her daughter mocked with her own fake razor.

“The water is dripping in my eyes.” Alexandra spoke of her wet hair.

“Mine too. Usually I save the hair washing for last but you jumped the gun. Here, give me your razor. Final washing time.” Ellen took her daughter’s razor and her own then set them down. “Little tip Alex, always use the guy’s razor. They bitch every time.” Ellen giggled and so did Alex. “Now we are gonna wash every part of our body. It’s important to stay clean. The secret to living a successful life in a post-apocalyptic world is to . . . never mind. You’re a woman, all woman are successful. There really isn’t that many of us. Hell, look at Jenny Matoose. Men love her. Go figure.”

“Mommy, where did you get that scar.” Alex pointed to Ellen’s stomach where she had her cesarean section.

“This one?” Ellen handed Alex the soap. “Your father knifed me. Yep, got real mad at me and stuck a knife in my stomach.”

“Did it hurt?” Alex asked as she washed up.

“Really badly, especially when he tried to remove my stomach.” Ellen nodded. “Boy was he mad.”

“Did Uncle Frank ever try to take out your stomach?”

“No, Uncle Frank does worse. He just steals my heart instead.” The sudden flinging open of the shower curtain made both Alexandra and Ellen shriek. “Frank!” Ellen scolded. “Quick Alex, cover your private parts. Frank, go away!”

Frank grinned as he shifted his eyes down to Ellen, rubbing his fingers over the bottom of his goatee. “Dinner is done.”

Alexandra peeked out from behind Ellen’s back. “Uncle Frank? Are you staring at Mommy’s scar?”

“Oh yeah,” Frank said then looked at Alex. “Let’s go Alex.” He grabbed a towel. “Let’s get your little naked butt out of this shower and dressed for dinner.”

“O.K.” She edged her way to Frank letting him wrap the towel around her and lift her from the tub.

“Go get dressed.” He ran his hand down her hair. “Hurry.” He listened as Alex left, to the water stopping. “Need a towel El?”

“Please.” Ellen stood in there waiting for the reaching arm. Nothing. She poked her head out. “Frank?”

Frank held the towel, but waited for her.

“Be nice.” She held out her hand, covering herself with the shower curtain.

“You know El.” Frank stepped to her. “You bathed with my brother. You could shower with me.”

“I could, could I?”

“Yep.” Frank lifted the shower curtain. “Make cleanliness a Slagel thing.”

“Stop that.” She smacked his hand away. “Behave. Go down stairs.”

“I’m being good.” He handed her the towel. “See you down stairs.” He winked at her, touched her face gently and moved to the door. “Oh and El? Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Just . . . . thanks.” Giving her a closed mouth look he opened the bathroom door and left.

Ellen shook her head, tossing the towel around her. “Only Frank would say ‘thanks’ after being a peeping tom.” She stepped from the shower with that thought on her mind. Little did she know Frank seeing her naked was far from what he thanked her for.

<><><><>

Robbie was walking in the door when Frank reached the bottom of the steps. He peeked around then smiled to Frank. “Why is it so quiet?”

“Shh.” Frank held up his hands. “You’ll set off the jinx factor. The kids are upstairs. Come on in.”

“What smells good?”

“Dinner.” Frank was less than descriptive.

“Wow, really?”

Shaking his head at his brother Frank moved to the dining room. “Let me just finish putting out the plates...” He stopped when he walked by the cradle. He spun around to Robbie, a slight worried look upon his face. “You haven’t seen Nick yet have you?”

“No.” Robbie grinned. “Is he awake? Can I hold him?”

“Yeah but don’t say anything about the way he looks.”

“What? Is he ugly?”

“No!” Frank snapped. “Just don’t say anything.”

With his hands in his pockets, Robbie walked to the cradle and peeked in at the baby whose back faced him. “Look at all the hair he has. Man . . . not even Joey had that much hair.”

“Yeah well, that’s a gripe of mine. . . .OK.” Frank tugged at his arm. “You’ve seen enough.”

“Wait, I want to . . .” Robbie screamed, loudly too, and it was followed by probably the most belly sustained laugh that he had in quite long time. “Oh my God Frank.”