Page 95 of Frankie and the Fed

I want to comfort him. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he leans into my embrace. We sit, hugging each other for long minutes, then he starts the car and gets back on the road.

We go back to his apartment, and I restlessly pace the floor.

I still think of it as his apartment. That’s part of the problem. It doesn’t feel like our home. I’m still a guest here. But there’s no point in renting a place for myself. I won’t use it. I hadn’t felt the need for it until yesterday, and there’s no point in paying for it.

“What?” Ethan looks up at me from his laptop. He’s quiet and has been working on something since we got back but doesn’t miss my mood.

“I was thinking about the apartment,” I explain.

“I told you. That was a terrible mistake. I’ll rent you another one.”

“I’m thinking I don’t want one.”

“Really?” He arches an eyebrow.

“It’s unnecessary to spend so much money on an apartment that I’ll never use. You won’t do anything to make me leave again, right?”

He nods.

“But this apartment… I don’t feel like I belong here. I’m a guest here.”

“Tell me how I can help.”

“I want Olive to redecorate it. I love her style.” How did I not think of this before? I adore her house.

“Ayala... Olive’s very busy with the store. She has no time for such things. And I would know because I help her run the business.”

“Right. So you know how much to pay her for her to agree.” I see him take a deep breath, but he doesn’t refuse.

He seems distant, and that worries me. “I know you’ve had a rough morning, but it’s Saturday. Maybe we can do something together?”

He gets up and closes the laptop. “Sure, what do you want to do? I’m ready to spend the rest of the day in bed.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I give him a fake, sullen look.

He laughs. “Okay, okay... So, first, we’ll go out, then bed?”

I smack him in the arm. “How about skating at the Rockefeller?”

“No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel like breaking anything. I’ve seen enough hospitals for the next few years.”

“Wait a moment. You don’t know how to skate, do you? How is that possible? You grew up here.”

“Have you seen my parents? Do you think they took us skating?”

No. Probably not. “I’ll teach you. It’s not that hard.” I laugh.

“Okay, let’s go. But you’re not allowed to laugh at me or mention it later. And if I break something, you’ll have to take care of me.” He grins.

Okay. He asked me not to mention it. But he said nothing about pictures…

* * *

We rent skates and enter the rink. I have to hold back from laughing when I see him step on the ice, looking terrified. He’s so out of his element. His hands are stretched out in front of him, and his legs are shaking. A powerful man, afraid to land on his ass. I’m glad I skated a lot as a girl and can support him.