Simply Lies

Chapter 85

The various museums and private collectors whose works had been stolen were thrilled to have them back in their possession. So happy, in fact, that the finder’s fees paid to Gibson and Francine were quite generous.

On the flight back from meeting with one of the museums, which had had two of the paintings stolen from it, Francine turned to Gibson.

“That night at Stormfield?”

“Yeah?”

“You saved my life.”

“Well, you did the same for me. If you hadn’t warned me, I’d be dead.”

Francine slowly reached over and gripped Gibson’s hand. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Gibson looked at her curiously. “What?”

“Can I...? Oh never mind.”

“What!”

Francine seemed nervous and unsure of herself. “I was just wondering, if I could meet... your kids.”

By Gibson’s expression, this was not what she was expecting. However, she said, “Sure, my parents have been watching them. You can meet them, too.”

“This is my friend, Francine,” said Gibson, introducing Francine to her parents. “She was at Temple when I was there.”

The Rogerses shook hands with Francine. Gibson’s father shot his daughter a glance and mouthed, Francine Langhorne?

She smiled but didn’t answer.

“So how did you know Mickey?” asked her mother.

Francine said, “Well, she was pretty famous on campus. But we were both involved in the theater program. Do you remember her in My Fair Lady? She was fantastic as Eliza Doolittle.”

Rick Rogers looked guiltily at his daughter. “I must’a missed that one. But I saw all her home basketball games.”

“Did you act in plays as well?” asked Dorothy Rogers.

Francine said, “Sometimes it seems like I’ve been acting my whole life.”

“Are you here on business?” asked Rick, with a sly look at Gibson.

“Actually, I am. In fact, I’m sort of in the same line of work Mickey is. Asset recovery.”

“And the kids?” asked Gibson. “Francine wanted to say hello.”

“Naptime is just about over,” said her mother.

Gibson led Francine upstairs and into her kids’ room.

Tommy’s eyes were open and he was looking sleepily around.

Darby’s eyes were still closed. Her thumb was in her mouth, and her other hand was clenched around her favorite stuffed animal, a Winnie the Pooh that had been so “loved” its button nose had worn off.

Francine knelt down next to Tommy and held out her hand. “Hi, Tommy, I’m Francine.”

Tommy glanced up at his mom, who nodded. Tommy put out his hand and the two shook.

“Hi,” he said in a small, uncertain voice.

“Did you have a good nap?”

He nodded.

“You look very strong. I bet you can throw a ball pretty far.”

He smiled and nodded.

“What’s that, I wonder?” said Francine. She reached behind his head and pulled out a Nerf ball and held it up.

Tommy’s eyes popped out as she handed it to him. “Okay, give it a whirl.” She backed up and squatted down like a catcher.

Tommy sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looked at his mom, who nodded encouragingly, and got to his feet.

He wound up and threw the ball to Francine, who caught it and then shook her hand, pretended it was stinging. “Wow, you really can throw.”

She tossed it back to a beaming Tommy, who neatly caught it.

“Who you?”

They all looked up to see Darby awake and staring at Francine.

She rose, went over to Darby, and knelt down. “I’m Francine. And you’re Darby, right?”

She nodded, her thumb back in her mouth.

“I had a Winnie the Pooh just like that one, and you know what?”

“What?” mumbled Darby.

“He lost his nose, too.” Francine laughed and Darby looked at her Pooh and giggled.

Darby took her thumb out and said, “Pooh can’t schmell.”

“That’s okay. He can still see and hear, right?”

Darby nodded energetically.

“And he won’t have to smell stinky things.”

“Tommy stinky,” said Darby.

“Am not,” protested her brother.

“Well,” said Gibson. “I think she has you there, buckaroo.”

“Can I shake Pooh’s hand?” asked Francine.

Darby held him out.

Francine reached out and shook the bear’s hand and said, “Well, look at that. Did you know Pooh had this?”

Darby quickly sat up. “What?”

Francine held up a locket shaped like a heart.

“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.”