“What dat?” asked Darby.
“It’s a locket. Do you know what you can do with it?”
Darby shook her head so vigorously that her pigtails flew around.
Francine opened the locket to reveal the compartment. “You can put a picture in here.” She glanced at Gibson. “Maybe of your mommy? And when you get older you can put the locket on a necklace, here like mine.” She showed Darby the one she had on. “And anytime you want to see your mommy, you just open the locket and there she is.”
Darby slowly took the locket and looked at her mom with excited eyes.
“We can pick out a picture to put in there,” said Gibson. “Maybe the one of both of us at your birthday party?”
Darby nodded, then she lay down, closed her eyes, and went right back to sleep.
As they walked out of the house later, Francine said, “Your kids are beautiful. You must be really proud.”
“I am most days, except when they’re fighting, won’t eat, or puke on me.”
“Motherhood in all its glory.”
Gibson said, “And you didn’t have to do that, Francine. The gifts, I mean.”
“A Nerf ball and a locket. Not all that much, really.”
“You looked like you’ve played catcher before.”
Francine looked both wistful and sad. “My brother. Harry never let him do any sports. He never let him do anything. So I found some balls and gloves when we were kids, and he would pitch to me in the backyard.”
“That’s really nice.”
“Sometimes it’s the little things.” She paused and added, “The little things, actually, were all we had.”
“The locket was a sweet idea.”
Francine fingered hers.
“Whose picture is in it?” asked Gibson.
When Francine looked at her, Gibson had wished she hadn’t asked the question.
“I never had a picture in it.” She paused and then added, “But maybe one day I will.”
Chapter 86
A month later Francine was back in Williamsburg, in Gibson’s backyard, where the two women were watching Darby and Tommy playing. Agnes Langhorne sat in a wheelchair with her oxygen tank and seemed delighted with the kids’ antics. Doug sat next to his mother and seemed in better spirits than he had been. He had scattered Rochelle’s ashes over the lake; Francine had gone with him to lend her support.
Gibson and Francine were sitting on swings on a brand-new play set that Gibson had purchased with some of her finder’s fee. Part of the money had gone to fund the kids’ college accounts, and the rest had gone into the bank, until she decided what to do with it.
Francine had given half her finder’s fee to her brother. They had decided that Agnes would live with her son and that she would have round-the-clock care until the end. Francine had also provided funds to the other victims of Earl Beckett. And she and Gibson had both given monies to Sullivan’s niece to help her with her challenges.
As they slowly swung back and forth Gibson said, “Beckett and Enders did plea deals. But they’ll both die of old age in prison.”
“Hopefully, sooner rather than later,” remarked Francine.
“Sullivan is doing well and his sister has been avenged. He can just go on being a cop now, without having to move all the time to keep up with Beckett.”
“Nothing wrong with not staying in one place too long.”
“So does that mean you’ll be heading on soon?”
Francine glanced at her. “Why?”
“Just wondering. I was... sort of getting used to having you around.”
“You can go do anything you want, Mickey. Buy a big house. Travel the world.”
“All a little heady for a Jersey girl.”
“You can pull it off. You really can.”
“Not if the desire isn’t there.”
“So what is your desire, then?”
“You go first.”
Francine looked embarrassed. “I... I got through an entire day without writing something down in a notebook.”
“Hey, that’s progress.”
“The notebooks were important to me. The shrinks have a lot of fancy names for it. But it just came down to being afraid of losing the little I had.”
“They were also a wall for you, Francine.”
“What?”
“Your notebooks were a way for you to build a wall around yourself. And the different personas you used? That way no one could ever get to know the real you. And if they never knew the real you?”
“They could never hurt the real me,” Francine finished.
“Trust me, you’re not the only one who built walls or played roles because they were scared, or to keep from being hurt. You just took it to another level. But you had good cause to do so.”
“That does make sense.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask — how did you end up at Temple?”
“I wanted to get as far away from New Mexico as I could. And I’d been to Philly before, when I was a kid, before we went into WITSEC. I liked it. So I went there, and I got a job at the university. In the cafeteria.”
“Did you really serve me food?”
“I really did. But I looked a lot different back then.” She paused. “I guess I really became obsessed with you at that point, basketball star and all, and a girl on top of it. And when I found out you were in the drama program, it was like it was an omen. I mean, I had always dreamed of being a famous actress. And here was my idol doing that very thing. I also went to all the home basketball games.” She shot Gibson a glance. “You were one vicious point guard.”
“Had to be. I was a lot shorter than most of the other gals. Did we interact at all in the theater?”
“I helped get you into costume, helped with the sets, that sort of thing. You were a great mentor to the other drama students. You just always seemed so put together. Never anxious about anything.”
“That was my best acting job because I was dying inside from nerves. Same on the basketball court.”
Francine shook her head. “Well, it never showed.” She paused. “And... you saved me once on campus.”
“What?”
“Some asshole attacked me late one night. Stupidly, I was there late by myself. The guy jumped me. He had my blouse halfway off when—”
“Oh my God. I drilled him in the face with a basketball. I was coming back from practicing three-pointers by myself in the gym. That was you? You ran off. And so did he.”
“I was scared and embarrassed and, I don’t know, just messed up. I left Temple right after that and reinvented myself, put those walls up, like you said. The intervening years sort of raced by.”
“Until you came back into my life.”
“Hardly in a way you wanted. I’m sorry for all that I did. I’m sorry for all that I said and thought about you. It was... I was... so wrong about everything.”
Gibson gripped her hand. “Francine, after all that you went through, the fact that you’re even functioning is a damn miracle.”
Francine glanced away, watching the children again. Tommy was running in circles, and Darby was doing awkward forward rolls and coming up laughing after each one.
Perhaps reading her mind, Gibson said, “You know, you can adopt. You’ll be a rich single mom, the world at your feet.”
Francine shook her head. “You’re clearly mother material. I don’t think I am.”
“I never thought I would be. You sort of grow into it.” She glanced at Tommy, who was now seeing how loudly he could burp while Darby egged him on by laughing uproariously. “And here I am raising two Einsteins of my very own.”
Francine gave Gibson a mischievous look. “They’re going to end up ruling the world and you know it.”
“With an aunt like you teaching them, they probably will.”
Francine gaped. “Aunt?”