“Me, too.” Frankie glanced down. “But you can’t blame me for not remembering more. I was practically a baby.”
“I know. And I don’t blame you.” Harper heaved out a breath and shifted positions. “But the fact remains that I have a lot of unresolved issues and anger over what she did to us. Issues and anger you don’t seem to have because you were younger.”
She looked at her sister. “I wish I’d been younger, too. I wish I hadn’t been able to remember life before foster care.” She paused a moment. “I wish I didn’t have all this anger. Maybe…maybe meeting her and hearing her side of things would help that.”
Frankie leaned forward, not sure she’d heard her sister correctly. “You mean that?”
Harper ripped the last piece of muffin in two and shrugged. “I guess so. I was about to say things couldn’t get worse, but they could. I just hope they don’t.”
Frankie sat back. She hoped they didn’t, either, but she also knew it was entirely possible.
Harper ate the last of the muffin and stood, washing it down with oat milk. “I have a few emails to send, a little work to do. And I know you do. Why don’t we do what we need to do and plan on watching a movie tonight?”
“Sounds good. I’d love a few more hours of work on this book.”
“Perfect. See you for dinner then.” Harper glanced at Archie. “Let me know if he has to go out. I should walk him at some point today.”
“How about right before dinner we both take him?”
Harper smiled. “Yeah, that would be good for all three of us.”
She went inside, leaving Frankie with her thoughts.
She picked up her laptop and tapped the keyboard to bring the screen to life. She had to figure out where a good meeting place was, then email Shar back to see what dates worked for her.
She’d said she was willing to come on short notice. Frankie prayed she meant that. Now that Harper had agreed to meet, Shar changing her mind would only make Harper angrier.
Although she’d seemed calmer today than she had last night.
Maybe Mitch and his grief had put some things in perspective for her? Frankie wasn’t sure, but she wanted this meeting to happen as soon as possible so that neither Harper—nor Shar—changed their minds.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
The ogre king.
Sitting in front of his laptop, typing away, Mitch shook his head at himself. And at the brain fog that grief had created and caused him to forget what he’d written just two books ago. How could such a major detail like that slip his mind?
He knew how. Losing Jeanie had created all kinds of chaos in his life. More than he would have imagined. Things that shouldn’t be affected, were. The books were the perfect example.
Since talking with Harper, which hadn’t been nearly as painful as he’d guessed it would be, he’d finished Chapter One and was now halfway into Chapter Two. He ended the paragraph he was on. It was a good breaking point, so he leaned back to read through the couple of pages he’d written.
He tweaked a few words, added a little more description, and took his hands off the keyboard. So far, the new pages weren’t rubbish. They were decent. The story held together well, and it was interesting. He exhaled in relief.
Did that talk with Harper count toward Arlington’s request? If so, it was Number One—he’d sought her out. Two more to go and he’d never have to see her again.
Well, he would probably see her at some point. She lived next door. But he wouldn’t have to intentionally see her.
Unless he wanted to. Wouldn’t be the worst thing. She was a fan. And even if he couldn’t say anything about it, knowing that she’d been instrumental in getting Arlington to play the Doomsday Oracle had earned her a few points with Mitch.
Enough that he’d invited her in today for coffee.
He glanced up. “That should count as One, Arlington.”
He hated to admit that Arlington had been right about Harper helping him, but thanks to her and her knowledge of the books, he was now writing again. With purpose as opposed to earlier when he’d just been writing without really knowing where the scene was going or what he was setting up.
He’d made progress today and that was huge. Having written something that he wasn’t going to delete tomorrow made him feel better than he had in a long while. It also made him feel like he owed Harper something. A thank-you of some kind.
Coffee cup in hand, he got up and went out to get a refill. Joyce was dusting in the living room.
