Her (Episode 1/3)

saturday, july 8

I'M DRAINED FROM bribing and dragging Franny all day yesterday to see her ophthalmologist for an eye exam. Now dark bags circle my eyes but she's all good over there with her toys, looking perfectly rested and angelic with her sandy hair and peachy skin. She is thirteen years old but acts no different from a baby.

I'm cooking up a storm like I always do when I am nervous, bored, happy, or sad. I'm not sure what I am today except exhausted. It is one of my favorite things in the world, to cook. I'm making gluten-free banana chocolate chip cake and tuna casserole. The cake is already in the oven.

"Yumzzz," Franny says, not looking up from her playthings. She means my cooking smells yummy. And she is right. The honeyed, toasty scent of warm banana and chocolate fills the air and my stomach grumbles painfully as I work on the casserole. I bring it to life with rosemary, spinach, green bell pepper and two medium carrots.

I like to cook with as many natural products as possible. It keeps everyone grounded, closer to the earth. Keeps me connected. Even to Becky. I always feel like we are more receptive to the other side on a cleaner diet.

For our drinks, tonight I am adding some lemon and cayenne pepper to water infused with sea salts and minerals. That reminds me, I need to stock up on some more of the stuff. I can't believe we are the only ones who drink this. Not to go on a tangent, but our bodies need sea minerals to be really hydrated and for our brains to function properly. The basic water they sell in stores is useless.

Just for Franny, I'm also making a kale and cranberry salad.

I glance up covertly at her, popping a pumpkin seed into my mouth. Mmm, a good handful of these are so going into my portion of the salad.

Francene can't tell there are eyes on her. Next to mom's 100-year-old, dog-eared sofa she conducts a pretend tea party in the family room with her stuffed animals where I can keep a good eye on her. I'm just glad she isn't bugging me for something. Right now, any little thing would send me into stress territory. Plus, I'm alone with her.

Selena, who usually performs Beyoncé dance moves for her, is somewhere buying makeup with her galore of friends. Or maybe she is with her new boyfriend. Mom and dad are still on vacation. Mom had called earlier to ask how everyone is doing, to know if Trisha, Franny's nurse, is showing up on time and entertaining Franny during the times I'm unavailable. Mom was so upset when I told her Trisha had called in sick yesterday so I had to take over. It is best she stayed home, anyway. Franny has a very fragile immune system. But mom had her panties all in a bunch. Usually, she's with Franny every second of every day.

At first, it was difficult for them both. Franny wouldn't stop screaming and stomping and Mom acted like she had been away for a year on her first night in Jamaica. "Oh, how's my baby? I feel so bad. Is everything okay, are you keeping up with her medications? Are you giving her her penicillin? Is Trisha cool with everything? Oh, my God, my baby, she probably needs mommy right now. Don't forget she can't have gluten. And no processed sugar. Absolutely no candy keys! Make sure she gets her walks. She looks forward to them. My baby, please tell her I love her, give her lots of huggies and kisses. Mommy misses her."

I had to play therapist before it drove me insane. "Mommy, mommy, yes, she's getting all her vitamins and herbal supplements. She puts up a fuss but her vegetables are always steamed perfectly. We walked to the lake today and had a nice stretch and everything is fine, okay? Now go have a sangria."

***

The casserole is on the table all set for a ravenous, bibbed Franny when I hear the roar of a motorcycle outside. The sound is frighteningly familiar and I gasp with a start before padding uneasily down the hallway. I feel so dizzy. I think I'm going to faint, peering through the slats between the silk curtains at Harry Vancamp swinging his feet off his mechanical horse.