And I You

Franka

 

“Franka.”

The sharp tone pulled me from my musings and I focused on Valentine where she sat opposite me in her magic room in her home.

She was staring at me irritably.

“Did you hear a word I said?” she queried with the same irritability.

Unfortunately, I had not.

“I beg your pardon. I have a number of things on my mind,” I shared.

“This has not escaped me,” she retorted. “However, I take the needs of my clientele very seriously and as I’m offering you your first assignment, regardless that it’s as simplistic as casting a love spell, it’s important for you to be very clear on the client’s needs.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

“To make a point that needs not be made, it wouldn’t do for you to erroneously cast a spell on the employer our client hates, even if he’s rather handsome and exceptionally wealthy, when it’s the maintenance man she’s secretly in love with,” she continued.

“Yes, obviously,” I replied.

She gazed at me. “Not that I wish to become involved, but is everything well with you and Noctorno?”

It was not.

Oh no.

Definitely not.

One could say, tragically accurately, I had not been dealing with things well.

But last night I made things worse.

Starting the morning some days ago after his father’s phone call, Noc had decided that he was going to ignore what occurred. He’d swept away the distant mood he’d treated me to the evening before and again became Noc.

This was, until he came home that evening and I attempted to broach the subject.

“Told you last night, not in the mood to talk about it,” he’d replied brusquely.

“Will there be a time you’ll be in the mood?” I’d inquired hesitantly.

“I am, I’ll let you know,” he’d stated conclusively.

And the subject, according to Noc, was done.

I will admit, my approach was weak and I’d allowed him to dismiss the discussion mostly because he again became aloof and I didn’t like it. Indeed, it frightened me enough I knew it would take some time for me to gather the courage to try again.

Therefore I gave it that time (again weak, gads!)

That time included the weekend.

A weekend where Noc worked on the Saturday, but it was the first he’d done so in a way I felt he was doing it to avoid me.

But after a morning driving lesson on Sunday (where he allowed Josette to go on actual streets and where I had the hair-raising—but eventually I’d settled into it—experience of driving on a freeway), he’d relaxed. This meant I felt my Noc with me again as we spent the afternoon and evening drinking and munching on a variety of food in a bar with Glover while watching some sport on television.

I told myself as the days passed that I was allowing Noc time to cope in his head with whatever had gone on with his father, so when I approached him again he’d be more conducive to such.

But mostly I was bolstering my courage.

This I’d decided was bolstered enough last night, a now-unusual evening when Noc came home from work before six.

It started out well considering I’d perused his cupboards and had managed to arrange (quite artfully, to my way of thinking) some crackers and slices of cheese on a plate for him to nibble on with the beer I’d opened for him when he got home.

I did this, for nearly every evening he arrived home and declared he was hungry. Although I couldn’t cook a splendid meal for him, I could do something to assuage his hunger.

Noc had put a slice of cheese on a cracker, doing this with his arm around my shoulders, holding me tucked to his side, and declaring through a smile, “Next thing I know, I’m gonna be coming home to beef Wellington.”

I couldn’t stop the face I made, one likely of revulsion mixed with terror, which made Noc emit a deep bark of laughter before he kissed me quickly and pulled away, putting the cracker and cheese into his mouth.

As he munched, I decided to broach the subject later, when he had a full stomach and thus would be in good humor for a variety of reasons.

He was indeed in good humor.

I made note of that and decided henceforth to be certain there were a variety of nibbles in the house I could arrange artfully on a plate for him to be treated to when he came home.

Alas, his good humor vanished the moment I mentioned his father’s call.

“You need to let up on that, babe,” he’d stated tersely, drawing away from me where we were snuggled on the couch, Noc sitting with feet up on the coffee table, me nestled into his side with my legs curled beside me on the seat.

His terse tone brooked no further discourse.

Even so, I knew I could not be weak. I could not give up. Not on Noc.

No more excuses.

“There are things, darling, that I think we should discuss and they aren’t entirely what occurred during that call with your father. However, I sense that there was something there—”

“Franka,” he started, taking his feet from the table, and the frigid way he said my name not only made me snap my mouth shut, it made my insides freeze. “You’ve made an art of sticking your nose in shit and I see you’ve decided to stick it in this. What I’ve been sayin’ that you’ve not been hearing is that this is not somewhere you can go.”

I didn’t wish to persevere.

But I had to.

“I thought you said what was yours was mine.”

“And what I’m sayin’ now is that I don’t even want this, so I’m sure as fuck not givin’ it to you.”

That didn’t make sense.

“Noc—”

“Let it go, Frannie.”

“But—”

His face transformed to granite, and having that hard look aimed at me, my throat closed.

“I’m warning you. Let…it…go.”

And with that, he left me on his couch and prowled to the bedroom, his closing of the door behind him telling me I was not invited to follow.

I did not follow.

I sat still on the couch, staring at the door, hearing his words.

I’m warning you.

Warning me of what?

Let it go.

The coward in me wanted to do that.

But I knew I shouldn’t.

Some time later, when I’d gathered the courage to join him in the bedroom, I found it dark, and as far as I could tell, Noc was asleep.

I joined him in bed and didn’t wake him.

But I did curl into his back which was turned to my side of the bed.

He did not shift to further accommodate my cuddle.

It was the first night we did not end the day making love.

And it was the first night I did not sleep within Noc’s embrace.

Thus it was not a surprise I was awake hours later when he woke, doing so without the aid of his alarm.

He did not turn into me.

He got out of bed, doing it cautiously as I feigned sleep, and he went to the bathroom, prepared for work, and left the bedroom—and the house—leaving me abed undisturbed.

And thus we had the first morning when we started a day without making love.

However, after I’d dragged myself from his bed, I’d found a note propped on the coffeemaker that read:

 

Sugarlips,

Coffee’s good to go. All you have to do is flip the switch.

Just call Valentine to come get you when you’re ready.

See you tonight.

                            Love you, babe.

                                          -Noc-

 

Although the note started and ended in ways that were heartening, he’d made his point very clear.

His warning was understood.

It was now my decision to heed it or proceed as planned, even if, in truth, I had no plan.

“Franka!” Valentine snapped and again brought me back to reality.

“My apologies, I not only have much on my mind, I slept little last night,” I attempted to excuse my rudeness.

“Are you prepared to take on this assignment?” she asked.

“Will I have your oversight?” I asked in return.

“Of course,” she answered.

“Then yes, I’m ready,” I told her.

She studied me another moment before stating, “You didn’t answer my question about Noc.”

“All is well,” I lied.

She knew I lied, I could see it in the shrewd look in her eyes, but I held her gaze, my chin lifted, my meaning clear.

She had her business that wasn’t mine, even if I wanted to be there for her to assist in any way I could.

I had mine.

She gave in. “We’ll work the spell tomorrow.”

I inclined my head.

She tipped hers to the door. “I suggest you watch this maintenance man and ascertain the best way we can make an approach without detection. We need to be close to cast a love spell and he should be alone. He doesn’t simply get stars in his eyes, seek out our client and sweep her off her feet. My work is much more subtle than that. Therefore, yours will be too.”

I nodded and stood.

Having been dismissed, and glad for it, I made my way from her magic room to head to the room below where my crystal ball was waiting for me.

I’d nearly made the door when she called, “Franka.”

I turned to her.

Her gaze locked to mine.

“All will be well,” she said quietly.

I hoped she was correct, but the first time since Noc entered the sitting room I was in at the Winter Palace months ago, I felt my hopes would be dashed.

I said not a word and swept from the room.

I went to my crystal ball, but when I got there, I did not call up this “maintenance man” (whatever that was).

I stared at it thinking other thoughts.

Dismal thoughts.

Fearful thoughts.

Insecure thoughts.

Doing all this finding myself entirely unable to stop it or the growing emotion that rose up inside me, making me feel useless and unworthy of the man who loved me enough to steer me beyond a lifetime of pain when I could not offer the same.

Therefore, when ten digits appeared in my crystal ball, I was startled.

I knew not what they meant or even how they appeared.

I had not called for them (whatever they were).

However, they didn’t go away.

I continued to stare, and as I did the handbag I’d placed on the table by my orb after I’d arrived and before I’d joined Valentine jumped in its place.

This meant I jumped in my seat and stared at that.

My handbag skipped again and I heard a distinct buzz that I knew came from my phone.

I released a relieved breath as I understood what was happening and reached for it, for I was simply getting a text.

I pulled the phone out of my bag and activated it.

However, there were no notifications of a text.

My eyes slid to my crystal ball and a frisson of awareness slinked up my spine.

My ball was telling me something.

My magic was telling me something.

And what I knew was my magic was my magic.

Good magic.

So wherever that magic led me to, in my bones, I felt it safe to follow.

I touched the phone button, went to my keypad and entered the digits from my crystal ball into it.

Sitting straight in my chair, I lifted the phone to my ear and listened to it ring.

Shortly into this, a man’s voice boomed, “You got Lud.”

Lud?

Who was Lud?

“Yo? Hello?” the voice called.

Lud.

Oh no.

Lud!

As in…Ludlum.

The digits were for Noc’s father’s phone.

Balls!

“One more time, someone there?” he asked.

“Hello, Mr. Hawthorne?” I said it as a question even if I knew the answer.

“Right, darlin’, no offense, your job ain’t fun, but I’m not a big fan of marketing calls so do me a favor and take me off your call list.”

“Mr. Hawthorne,” I stated but couldn’t, for the life of me, decide what to say next.

“Will you do that for me?” he asked.

“This is Franka,” I declared.

He said nothing and I thought he’d disengaged.

“Mr. Hawthorne?”

“Franka?”

I nodded swiftly even if he couldn’t see me. “Yes, Franka. Franka Drakkar. Er, Frannie. I’m Noc’s…I’m, erm, Noc’s…well, I’m just Noc’s,” I introduced stupidly.

Gods!

“Interesting way to put it,” he muttered, sounding amused and then suddenly he did not sound anything of the sort when he asked, “Is my boy okay?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine. Absolutely. I mean, yes. He is. In most senses. Very fine. I mean to say that…. Actually, what I mean is, he’s quite well. But he’s also…”

Drat!

Why didn’t I disconnect the moment I knew who it was?

There was nothing for it, I hadn’t, so I had to go on.

“He’s also, well…not.”

“Damn,” he muttered, seemingly knowing precisely what I was saying. “Uh, sorry, honey. I mean, darn.”

“Cursing does not offend me,” I shared.

He was back to muttering. “Knowin’ my boy, that’s probably good.”

He was right about that.

Abruptly, I got cold feet (not that they’d ever been warm).

Damn my crystal ball.

“I need to apologize. I’m rethinking the wisdom of calling you,” I told him even though I hadn’t actually called him knowing I was doing any such thing.

“No, I’m thinkin’ it’s probably very wise you called me.”

I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything.

“Let me guess, he’s not in a very good mood these days,” he said.

“Well, I think that I’m…what I mean to say is, your guess would be correct but I do believe that it’s me who’s putting him in that mood.”

“Frannie, honey, it is one hundred percent not you.”

Again, I had no idea what to say so I remained silent.

“He gets this way on the anniversary,” Mr. Hawthorne relayed.

The anniversary?

“The anniversary of what?” I queried.

“Judy passing.”

Even sitting, I had to brace my hand to the tabletop to steady myself.

Judy. His stepmother. The only mother he’d known.

The mother he’d been forced to watch die.

“We had a thing,” he went on. “The boys were young when it happened and it was me who made the decision, and Noc didn’t agree with it so we had a go ’round about it. He shared how he felt and he was clear on that, even then. This being she didn’t wanna be buried but I wanted somewhere to go where I could be with her. Where the boys could be with her. So I buried her. And every year, day she died, I get my boys together and we go there to be with her. Take some lawn chairs and lay ’em out. Bring her flowers. Sit with her. Throw back some bourbon. Talk about her. Have her with us for a while.”

I thought this lovely and horrible, in equal measures.

Noc’s father kept speaking.

“Noc wasn’t a big fan I went against Judy’s wishes and didn’t cremate her. And he’s also not a big fan of going to see her. Know it. Maybe should let it go. But it’s the only time I got with my family back together, all of us, and it may be me bein’ selfish but I don’t care how old he is. I’m still his dad. And she’s the only mom he had. So I feel he should give me that. Me and Judy. He should give us both that.”

It took a moment for me to do it and my voice was not my own when I replied, “I cannot say you’re wrong about that, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Lud, Frannie. Please call me Lud.”

“Lud,” I whispered.

“Knew he wasn’t gonna be able to come this year, made him promise to do somethin’ to remember her there. Reckon she’s with all of us all the time, the only way she can be. So told him I want him to find a pretty, peaceful spot, just be quiet and let her be with him. He said he’d do it. Maybe he’s just humoring his old man but gotta say, as much as I know he doesn’t like it, still hope he does it. And because I’m stubborn and love my boy and my wife, the first one I still got, thank the Lord, the last one we lost and it broke us in a way it took a lot of fixin’ and we still ain’t right, I want him here next year. Want him to bring you. Want Judy to meet you.”

Want Judy to meet you.

I’d never felt more honored.

“I think…I think, sir, she already knows me quite well,” I shared carefully.

And hopefully.

Further hoping she liked what she knew.

“I think you are not wrong. Looked after Noc while she was breathin’ in a way there’s no way she’d quit even after she’d stopped. He found you, she’d definitely start lookin’ after you.”

I said nothing, lost in the glory of knowing after his mother died giving Noc to this world, to me, he had another who looked after him at the same time feeling the loss he’d endured when she went away.

“You there, Frannie?”

“I just…need a moment,” I murmured stiltedly.

He gave me that moment but in his, he said softly, “Damned you do.”

“Sorry?”

I heard him clear his throat before he replied, “You do. Heard it in Noc when he talked about you. Now I hear it in you. What I hear pleases me, Frannie, reckon you know that, just reckon you don’t know how much. And it makes me look forward even more to meeting you.”

I knew what he was saying and I was beside myself with happiness he understood my feelings for his son.

But even if I had more information about what was happening, I didn’t comprehend the fullness of it.

Before I could broach that, Ludlum Hawthorne declared, “Obvious this is worryin’ you and thank you for givin’ that to my boy. And thank you again for doin’ the right thing and callin’ his old man to have a chat about it. But I got it from here.”

Oh no.

I knew what “I got it” means and I didn’t have a good feeling about Noc’s father having anything if it had a thing to do with all this.

“Um…Lud—”

“We’ll hash it out and get ourselves sorted. Don’t you worry,” he assured without assuring me in the slightest. “No doubt you know we got a lotta love in our family but that doesn’t mean, four men, all of us pigheaded, we don’t clash. We do. First time you see it, I can understand it’ll worry you. But you’ll also see we get over it. We learned over and over again, doin’ that the hard way, to hang on to what we got. And just so you know, anniversary passes, he comes back to himself. My advice next time, just wait it out. He’ll be good as new in no time.”

“Can I just say, Lud, that—”

He cut me off like he didn’t hear me speak.

“Now I gotta go. Bad timing, Sue’s dragging me out to lunch with her bridge cronies. Twice a year I gotta go to this lunch and if they didn’t raise buckets of money for cancer research, I’d be on my boat with a rod in my hand. But I’ll say, regardless of the subject matter, sure was good to talk to you. Next time we do it, I’ll make you giggle. I’m a comedian. A good one. And don’t listen to Noc or Dash or Orly when they say my material stinks. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m damned funny.”

“I’m sure you are,” I replied swiftly but didn’t get the rest out swiftly enough as he spoke again.

“Now you take care of yourself, honey, and would say take care of my boy but seems to me you got that down.”

He was so very wrong.

He was also so very much not done.

“And maybe Sue and me’ll get on a plane so I can give you a hug in person and she can size you up for whatever outfits she’s gonna buy you come Christmas. If they’re not your thing, just give ’em to charity but don’t say anything to her. Only way I’ll say it’s fortunate you live across the country, you won’t have to dress up in the stuff she buys and she won’t see you not doin’ it. She gave the boys all Christmas sweaters three years ago and pouts that they refuse to wear ’em. Won’t listen to a word I say on the subject that those sweaters are butt-ugly and laughable besides. Noc’s has got a reindeer stitched on it with a bell for a nose, for chrissakes. I mean, who in their right mind thinks a man is gonna wear a Christmas sweater with a reindeer on it with a bell for a nose? Love her to bits, she’s a damn fine woman, but that don’t mean she don’t got some crazy ideas.”

I had no earthly idea what he was talking about.

I also had no intention of asking. My anxiety was building and I needed to stop him from “hashing” anything out with Noc, and I needed to do that now.

To my grave misfortune, I didn’t get the chance to get into it for I heard him shout, not at me, “I’m ready, sweetheart, just on the phone with Noc’s Frannie!”

Gods.

“Yeah, Frannie!” he kept shouting. “Noc’s girl!”

Gods!

“No,” he said, again not to me, “I’m sayin’ goodbye. You get on the phone with her, you’ll talk for a year.”

“I will not.” I heard a woman say. Then I heard, this time to me, “Well hello! Nice to meet you.”

Oh…

Balls.

“I, um…well, right…hello to you too, Sue,” I pushed out.

“What a wonderful surprise, you calling,” she declared.

“Yes, well, erm…”

“I cannot tell you how delighted I was to hear Noc had finally found someone. But really mostly when we heard how very taken he is with you. Lud told me the way Noc speaks about you, we should be careful and not flip out when we watch you walk on water.”

This surprised me (as well as parts of it thrilling me) because I couldn’t imagine in this world where magic was hidden that Noc would share I had it for I doubted it would be difficult to do just that.

Though why I’d ever wish to walk on water, I couldn’t fathom.

“That’s lovely, but could I speak with—?” I attempted to ask.

“We can’t wait to meet you.”

“And I you,” I hurried out but had no opportunity to say more.

“Wonderful,” she declared. “Now, I must let you go because Lud is giving me the evil eye seeing as he doesn’t want to go to this lunch and I’m making him, so I best not chat with you for a year and prolong his torture. We’ll talk more later. Lud’s got your number in his phone now, I’ll call you.”

By the gods.

What had I done?

“I’ll look forward to that,” I (somewhat) lied.

“Lovely. And I can’t let you go without telling you that you have such a beautiful voice. I can’t wait to see pictures. Noc told his father you’re effin’ gorgeous, though he used the actual F-word, to my everlasting distress. If you’re as pretty as your voice, you must be something. Tell Noc to send some photos, quick as he can.”

I heard her pull in a deep breath but she did even that fast and I got out nary a sound before she carried on.

“Okay, must run. Again, so nice to meet you. Take care, Frannie.”

“You do the same,” I forced out, sounding strangled.

“Give that to me. No, give that to me. I wanna say ’bye too.” I heard in the background. Then in my ear came from Lud, “Take care of yourself, Frannie. And don’t worry about a thing, I got this. ’Bye, honey.”

When Noc said he “had” things, I’d learned he spoke truth.

I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on his father, but I had grave fears in this instance it was not the same.

Helpless to do anything but, I bid, “Goodbye, Lud.”

He disconnected.

I stared at my crystal ball and watched the digits fade away until there was nothing but a lazy billow of smoke.

“Perhaps I don’t adore you,” I snapped at it.

The lazy billow of smoke cleared and showed me a picture of Kristian and Brikitta sleeping, Frantz peacefully at rest in a cot by the side of their bed.

Blasted ball.

“All right, so I do adore you, I’m just annoyed at you.”

The vision of my family wafted away.

I drew in breath and knew exactly what I had to do.

This I did without delay so I wouldn’t lose my nerve.

I phoned Noc.

For the first time I’d done this, he did not take my call.

It went to his voicemail.

Surprised and disturbed by this, I simply said after the tone, “Could you call me at your soonest convenience, darling?” and disconnected.

But I feared his not picking up was another part of his warning.

Or, worse, that he was right then speaking to his father.

However, even if it happened through my magic and not my machinations, I’d set something in motion and I needed to alert him to that.

Thus I found the maintenance man and allowed some time to pass while observing him before I called Noc again.

He again didn’t answer.

I did not leave a message. But I did struggle to keep the panic at bay while trying to decide whether or not to send a text.

I decided I should do all to be open about what had occurred so I sent a text.

It read:

 

Darling, I’ve had a conversation I need to share with you. Please call me.

 

This went unanswered as well.

And hours later, when Noc should have picked me up from Valentine’s as he normally did when I was not already at his home after he was finished with work, he did not do that either.

Which meant I knew I should have heeded his warning.

A warning the love I felt for him dictated I could not heed.

And as I purloined the keys to Valentine’s car and went out to nick the actual vehicle, I knew I had to go to him immediately.

And face the consequences.

 

* * * * *

 

Noc’s Suburban at the curb in front of his house, it took me seven (yes, seven) tries to maneuver Valentine’s car in a spot two houses up from his, the only spot open on his street.

In the end, my parking efforts weren’t exactly perfect. The back wheel was up on the pavement when I decided the deed was well and truly done. I left it at that, simply relieved I’d made it there in one piece, and doing my best to ignore my dread, I got out of the car and walked to Noc’s home.

The door was barred against me, however I didn’t knock.

I also didn’t bother to dig out my key.

Magically, I turned the lock.

And then I walked in.

I saw immediately Noc leaning against the side of his island, an open bottle of whiskey on the counter, his fingers wrapped around a glass.

Oddly, he appeared to be waiting for me.

I drew in breath and made him wait no longer.

Tossing my bag to the couch as I passed, I approached him.

When I made the very edge of the kitchen area, I stopped because he spoke.

“How’d you get here?”

“I helped myself to Valentine’s car,” I shared carefully.

This, I found instantly, was not careful enough for his face grew tight.

“You drove yourself?” he asked.

“I did, my love,” I answered.

“Thought you’d spirit yourself,” he remarked in a manner I could tell was deceptively casually.

“As you know, I’ve not learned how to do that,” I reminded him.

“You haven’t learned how to drive a car by yourself but you did that,” he pointed out.

“I—”

“You’re here safe now, but swear to fuck, Franka, you do that again, shit will happen.”

I knew immediately whatever “shit” he was referring to I did not want to happen.

I allowed that to pass and tried to begin again.

“Noc, we need—”

He pushed from the island but moved no further as he interrupted, “For a woman who’s made an art of being attuned to every nuance of someone she’s meaning to play, seems you’re not cluing in real well on how to play me.”

I suffered that blow and forced my voice to conciliatory when I replied, “You must know I have no wish to play you, Noc.”

“No? So you called my dad just to say hi?”

“I didn’t mean—” I began to explain.

But Noc wanted different explanations.

“What’d you do, babe? Sneak out of our bed when I was sleeping and copy his digits from my phone?”

“Of course not,” I whispered.

“Magic,” he stated.

I didn’t confirm.

Instead I again attempted to explain.

“It wasn’t my intention—”

“Right. Let’s be clear about that. I don’t give a fuck what your intention was. You weren’t gettin’ what you wanted so you called my fuckin’ dad. A man you have not met. A man you don’t fuckin’ know. A man you got no business talkin’ to until the time I thought it was right to give him to you. That was not cool and I’m thinkin’ I don’t gotta tell you that. I’m thinkin’ that’s the same in your world or mine. So I’m thinkin’ you fuckin’ know it.”

I tried to take the situation in hand.

“There are a variety of things we need to discuss, darling.”

“No there aren’t and think I made that clear already.”

I took a step toward him and the pain slashed deep when his expression shared unmistakably an approach was far from welcome.

Therefore I stopped.

But I didn’t stop myself from speaking.

“Valentine warned me that I needed to control my emotion in regard to my magic,” I shared. “And what’s been going on between us was weighing heavily on my mind. So as I sat beside my crystal ball, fretting over this, your father’s number appeared in it. I didn’t ask for it to appear. It just appeared. And I swear to you that’s the truth.”

“So you called it.”

“I called it not knowing who I was calling.”

“But you called it. Found out who it was and talked to him. And Sue, I’ll fuckin’ add.”

“Yes, but Noc, once I knew who it was, I could hardly hang up.”

“Maybe not but you could also have just said hey, introduced yourself and not fuckin’ brought up your gig with me and the shit you’re tryin’ to insinuate yourself into.”

I bore that blow too and endured.

“I can assert that you’ve made your feelings clear on this subject, my darling, however I’m uncertain I’ve done the same. There are things that are concerning me.”

“I’m gettin’ that, seein’ as you were totally okay with bringing them up with my dad.”

I shook my head and tried to steer us elsewhere.

“He explained to me about Judy, the anniversary, and I understand where both of your thoughts rest on that matter. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t feel open to share yours with me.”

“No, what you don’t understand is that I didn’t fuckin’ want to share that shit with you.”

“I do understand that, Noc,” I said quietly. “I just don’t understand why.”

“You don’t wanna know why.”

“I do.”

“No, Franka, you don’t.”

I took another step toward him, stopped and stressed, “I want everything from you.”

His words were implacable when he replied, “Trust me, you don’t.”

“Please Noc.”

“Let it go.”

I shook my head, took another step and stopped. “I can’t.”

“You can. You won’t.”

“I see your pain,” I whispered.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice actually snide.

My Noctorno.

Snide.

Regardless of the shock it caused he even had that in him, I persisted.

“You helped me through mine, my love, I want to guide you from yours.”

At that, but a brief moment elapsed before he burst into laughter.

Laughter that held no mirth.

My body locked at the foulness of the sound and the odious feelings it made me feel.

When he stopped, my words dripped the ache I felt inside as I remarked, “You don’t think I can do it. You did it for me, but you don’t think I have it in me to do it for you.”

I knew just how far he’d drifted from me when he had no reaction to the torment in my words, replying unemotionally, “I see you want that Franka and part of me digs that from you. What I do not dig is that you won’t fuckin’ listen when I tell you this is somewhere you can’t go.”

“So you can force me to see my golden soul but you wish me to allow you to live in midnight?” I pushed.

At that, with a sudden violence that was so startling my entire body jumped, and I had to fight cowering when he took his glass and threw it across the kitchen where it crashed against the cupboards on the opposite wall, the glass shattering, the whiskey splattering.

And then came the thunder, the force of it making me wince.

“They took me from her dead body,” Noc roared.

I stood utterly still.

“She was dead before I took my first fuckin’ breath,” he declared.

Oh gods.

Gods.

He was talking about his mother.

“Darling,” I breathed.

“I was born in midnight and it was in the middle of the fuckin’ day I made it into the world,” he bit out. “You think you can take that from me?”

“Noc,” I whispered, edging toward him.

I stopped when he declared, “She never held me. She was dead before I was alive. Dead to give me life. I’m no doctor. I don’t know the research. I don’t know what infants can feel. All I know is, I was a baby and I knew he loved her. Fuck, Franka, my dad loved her so fuckin’ much, it tells me the man he was that he had the courage to give it another go, three times, because with what I felt from the minute I was born I wouldn’t think the man had that in him, that’s how much he loved her. That’s what I felt. I also felt just what he felt that he lost her. From my first breath, I felt his loss and I felt his love for me and that’s all I felt. And then that loss happened again. And then it fucking happened again. And I had to fucking watch.”

“My love—”

“You think you can take that from me?” he clipped.

“I—”

“There are no heroes, Franka.”

I closed my mouth.

“I know that,” he declared. “I learned that. Killed my own fuckin’ mother bein’ born and I prayed to God every damned night Judy was sick, askin’ him to let her win. Begging for that shit. She fought so fuckin’ hard, she deserved it. But it was more. The woman she was, there’s no reason I could get why she’d be forced to take that pain. Why a woman like her would be taken away from us. I didn’t understand what we’d done to deserve that because she sure as fuck didn’t do shit to deserve it. But she didn’t win. And we had to watch. We had to watch her waste away. We had to see her pain. And there was not one fuckin’ thing any of us could do about it.”

He gave me that, shredding me with it.

And then he blasted me with, “You know what makes a hero, babe?”

Slowly, I shook my head.

“What makes a hero is the one that’s left standing when the others are dead. Or the one that gave his life so the others could live. That’s a fuckin’ hero.”

Cautiously, I said, “There are other definitions, Noc.”

“Those are the ones that matter.”

I couldn’t argue that.

“My mother was a hero,” he declared.

Gods, he was killing me.

“My love,” I whispered.

“The way she fought to stay with us, Judy was a hero too.”

Standing in front of him whole, I still felt like I was bleeding.

“That being a hero, Franka, who would want to be a fuckin’ hero?” he demanded.

“You were a wee babe when you were born, darling. You couldn’t have saved your mother.”

His head twitched in disgust. “You think that makes it easier?”

I persevered. “And you were still but a boy even if that boy was growing to a man, and certain illnesses can bring low the greatest of warriors, as evidenced through your Judy.”

“And you think that makes that easier?”

“What I think is you hold guilt for things that were beyond your control.”

“No shit?” he asked sarcastically. “Became a cop because I wanted to save the world seein’ as I couldn’t save my mom. I couldn’t save Judy. Fuck, I actually helped save a goddamned world. It didn’t help. I could lift a gun and shoot that fuckin’ bitch of a witch and help save countless lives. But I was totally helpless, in Judy’s case forced to sit back and actually watch, completely unable to do fuck all to save either one of them.”

I stared right into his eyes, right into the heart of his anguish, and finally understood.

And what I understood gave me rapture.

“So you hold on to your midnight soul and refuse to let it go.”

“It’s got hold of me, Franka, and there’s no way to escape it.”

“Good,” I whispered.

His chin jerked into his neck and he did one of his slow blinks.

“Midnight is beautiful,” I told him. “And it’s at its most beautiful in you.”

I watched his body lock.

“Oh but the gods do so love me,” I shared softly. “To give me a man who would allow his soul to be taken over by the darkness of night, for he’s a man who loves so deeply, he lost those who had his love, was cast into the shadows, and he refuses to crawl to the light.”

I stopped speaking and Noc said nothing. He just stared at me, and I saw the cords of his throat convulse with his swallow.

Then he dropped his head.

I moved forward quickly.

Getting close, fitting my front to his, I lifted both my hands to his cheeks and peered up at him, bearing the agony in his face, now understanding what he was hiding behind his closed eyes.

And relishing the honor it was to have both.

He stood, not touching me, not speaking.

I stood, holding his beauty in my hands, and I did this silently.

This lasted an eternity.

Then he whispered, “I fuckin’ hate this goddamned anniversary.”

Finally.

I had not seen his pain weeks ago simply because I’d had reason to look more closely.

I’d seen his pain because now was the time when it forced itself to the surface.

“You miss her,” I whispered back.

He opened his eyes.

I saw the wet gleam and I was honored to have that too.

“Yeah, sweetheart, every fuckin’ day.”

I slid my thumb along his cheekbone. “I love you for that.”

He closed his eyes, drew breath in through his nose, and when he opened them again, contrition shifted into his gaze.

He lifted one hand to my jaw and returned my gesture. “Been a fuckin’ dick.”

I shook my head but said, “It’s my joy to take every part of you.”

He shook his head in return, his lips twitching. “My Frannie. Should’ve known. She takes the good but she’s always been better at takin’ the bad.”

“Indeed.”

All of a sudden, my arms were forced to circle his shoulders when his hand disappeared from my jaw. He caught me up in a tight embrace and buried his face in my neck.

“Love you, baby,” he declared there.

“And I you.”

He pressed his face deeper in my neck and his voice was gruff when he went on, “She would have loved you too.”

I closed my eyes at more rapture.

But I said nothing.

I just held on to my love.

And I basked in the beauty of midnight.