CHAPTER 1
BACKGROUND: Jack and Jill Hill have five married children and Frankie. Frankie has stringy hair, wears glasses, still suffers the occasional skin eruption, had been a straight 'A' student and her given name is Frances.
* * *
Unknown to Frankie Hill, the big worry for her parents, siblings and many of the extended family was her parents turning sixty within the next twelve months and having a 30-year old child still living at home. Really appalling for Jack and Jill was the thought of entering married quarters in a retirement facility in a few years with a child still living with them. They would be ridiculed. But Frankie had no problem with sticking around home. Her stock and intelligent reply was, "Why leave home when you're happy?"
Privately Jill fretted that Frankie might leave home and then who would do most of the cooking, the washing and ironing? And Frankie's weekly payment for food and lodgings was generous.
The parents had long given up scrapping over which one of them was responsible for calling Frances Frankie. The origins had been lost in time and none of the kids could remember. The other kids had names that appeal like Ellen, Harry, Jackson, Elizabeth and Wendy-Lou, the pretty one of the family.
Privately each of the other children was happy about Frankie living at home. Their mom was forgetful including over the timely payment of bills and habitually throwing away payment reminders thinking she'd paid that bill, and with Frankie she had support when she was worried about the threat of war in Europe or the rising price of food.
Frankie was always there when their father called for Frankie to come and drive him home because he was so drunk he couldn't find the car (their mom didn't drive) or to be with him when mom was away visiting either of the grandmothers because he was hopeless staying on his own. With Frankie also away he'd expect someone else to feed the cat and would use the best china and wash it in the dishwasher and wouldn't get to work on time and would sometimes want all the kids home because he was missing Jill and Frankie.
Then one day it happened: Frankie met Randy.
It wasn't one of those explosive meetings, like in the films, where they met in the library and 'bang' they were suddenly having sex on a reading desk much to the amusement of everyone else in the library except elderly blind women (in the audio books section). But they did meet in the library.
"Excuse me that was an impolite thing to do."
"What was?"
"Passing wind with a garlic odor."
The guy said he did not.
Frankie said he did.
The embarrassed guy seated opposite them got up and left, emitting an explosive fart that practically shook the reading room.
Frankie and the guy seated next to her howled in laughter and the supervisor, obviously with no sense of humor, pointed to the SILLENCE sign (spelling isn't a strong point of library staff) and when the laughter continued she evicted them.
Frankie and the guy stood outside, mirth wiped from their faces and holding their expulsion card that stated they were banned from returning until February 30. Frankie and the guy looked at one another after looking at the date again and burst out laughing and acknowledged it was unfair to believe that supervisor had no sense of humor; at least she had a warped sense of humor.
"Coffee?" said the guy.
Frankie automatically said 'yes please' whenever anyone said 'coffee' ending with a voice rise, indicating a question. As the guy had already taken her arm to assist her across the street as if she were a 30-year old geriatric she offered no resistance.
"It's a lovely day?"
He frowned. "What? It's raining."
She smiled and said where would Earthlings be without rain.
He momentarily looked surprised and nodded in agreement, almost leading her into the path of an on-coming cab.
"Oh Christ, sorry," he said as they leapt back at the strident blast of the vehicle's horn.
"Accepted. That was more dangerous than the blast of that fart."
Frankie had to help the poor guy finish crossing the street; he was almost doubled up laughing.
He recovered and standing outside the coffee house said, "What's your name babe?"
"I'm getting wet. Inside."
Frankie couldn't believe it. For the first time in her life a guy had called her babe.
"I'm Frankie Hill, an itinerant music teacher and part-time professional violinist."
"Oh hi Frankie. I'm Randy Lewis."
"Hi Randy. Get the coffee; I'll grab a table."
"Wait, why didn't you laugh or recoil in horror?"
"What at your name?"
"Yes."
"We have a family called Lewis living right opposite us."
"No I mean Randy. Women either laugh with embarrassment or recoil in horror."
"There's no accounting for ignorance Randy. I really don't think all guys called Randy think they are randy no more that all guys named Allan think they are a rock, or Branson's think they are a sword or all Michael's believe they are god-like."
"You're different."
"And you're making me wait for coffee."
Randy grinned and went off, returning with a cappuccino for her and am expresso.
She smiled, showing great teeth and pushed her chest forward and watched Randy tilt the tray dangerously. "Is that cinnamon or chocolate?"
"Chocolate."
"Ah, good man. You pass the test in producing my favorite coffee."
"The truth is I didn't. At the counter I realized I hadn't taken your order so I asked the woman. She looked over at you and said, 'Cappuccino with chocolate is a safe bet for that young lady sir'."
"Well done and that suggests you are both resourceful and honest."
"Are those the qualities you like in men?"
"Well, the truth is since I left college there haven't been men in my life in terms of dates. My fellow teachers are predominantly female and the females in my orchestra are a bit over three for every male."
Randy smiled. "With a name like mine I've also had a drought. The name used to be very popular in the 1950s and 1960s but since then more and more people associate the name with the mainly foreign slang usage taking the meaning lascivious or lecherous. Mothers take a stand against me with a name like that and their daughters dutifully back off me."
"Oh you poor guy. I suppose like me your stringy hair and wearing glasses doesn't help either. Would you like to date me?"
"Well yes; that was the idea of inviting you to coffee. I was attempting to seize the moment but shyness seized me instead."
"So an artful farter is responsible for getting you to this point?"
"Er yes. You have a direct way of expressing yourself Frankie. Is your real name Frances?"
"It was, but I have long since adopted Frankie and it's the name on my passport, driver license and legal documents. Please don't call me Frances."
"I won't and don't you call me Ran like my family does. I consider my given name is Randy and that's it."
"Oooh. That's taking a stand Randy; I like it."
Randy stirred his coffee, the movement being unnecessary because he hadn't taken sugar. "May I get you food?"
"No thanks. I watch my weight very carefully. Lose that fight and because of all my other faults I'm dead."
"What about your other great assets?"
Interested to learn what Randy had noticed, Frankie looked away to reduced the embarrassment he faced and said, "Great assets?"
"Yes, your teeth, your brain, your breasts and your legs, for example."
Frankie felt giddy. She squeaked, "My breasts?"
"Oh god, did I say that. I just meant to say teeth and intelligence."
"Well you didn't."
"No, sorry."
"How on earth did you have time to notice my legs?"
"When we were ejected from the library; I followed you out."
"Ah, yes. My memory wind-back missed that. It only covered from outside the library until I was seated here. I noticed you almost tipped the tray when you peered at my breasts."
"Peered."
"Gazed, stared, gaped, gawked, looked, viewed, watched, ogled, eyeballed β ah perhaps not gaped, they're not quite in that league."
"I-I'm sorry."
"Well I'm not. I look forward to the time you ask to see them."
"I have to go Frankie. My mom and dad expect me to arrive home when they expect me. If I don't they worry that local youths may be stoning me again and chanting Randy, Candy, Mandy, masturbator."
"Buy a gun Randy."
"What?"
"Ignore that Randy. It was just a random thought."
Randy looked concerned. "Aren't you put off by what street Trolls call me?"
"No."
"Do you really think I need to pack a gun?"
"Actually I think taking the more passive reaction and call on the police to crack down on street Trolls as you call them could possibly be more productive and avoid you illegally gunning down street Trolls."
"You have a way about you Frankie. Um, before I take you out mom will have to approve of it. I know I'm thirty-one but I live at home and mom makes the rules."
"It's called Home Rule Randy and I also live under it. Here's my card. Call me about meeting mother."
* * *
As arranged, Randy met Frankie at the rail station. They shook hands like two guys so Frankie reached up and kissed him. Randy said 'Gosh' as his glasses fogged.
He lived three stations out from the central business district. As they reached the corner of his street four Trolls appeared from nowhere and circled them chanting, "Oh Randy Dandy has found a Fucky Ducky."
"Cut it out guys. Call me names but you be respectful to my lady or you'll be sorry."
"Oh yeah," snarled a guy, throwing a pebble hard and close range and it hit the shoulder padding on Randy's suit jacket.
Frankie charged, swinging her handbag and smashed the lout's glasses against his face, twisting the frames.
"You bitch."
Frankie kneed him in the lower gut and he went down gasping. The other Trolls bolted. Frankie helped the guy to his feet. He was still gasping and very white.
"Lay off my fiancΓ© and tell your buddies that. If I find you have disobeyed me I'll come after you with a .45 loaded with soft-nose bullets and gut-shoot you, understand?"
The guy groaned and vomited, Frankie ducking behind him and pushing him down into the mess.
"I-I can't believe it," Randy said as they walked off.
"Well please forget it Randy. It's a bad example for you to follow but street-teasing for me stopped when I stood up to the mother-fuckers, girls included."