—40—
Frankie sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, wearing nothing but her bra and undies.
‘I am a strong, independent woman,’ she repeated, inhaling deeply, eyes closed. She peeked one eye open to look at her laptop screen: the woman in the YouTube clip was massaging her temples. Frankie monkeyed the action, caressing her own face with her two index fingers. After trying all her usual anti-heartbreak techniques (gorging on ten bags of M&Ms, binge-watching The Baby-Sitters Club and reading her favourite parts from every Jane Austen novel), Frankie was just as depressed as ever. So, just like the last time her heart was broken, she sought help from her friend, the internet, typing ‘how to heal heartbreak’ into YouTube, and had been watching the clips that came up, on repeat. These sad, repetitive videos reminded her of the immutable heartache she felt when she lost Ads. Yet this pain is so much worse.
‘I am beautiful …’ Frankie repeated after the woman in the video, then she groaned, realising she was on the verge of reciting the lyrics from a Christina Aguilera song. She slammed her laptop shut and lay back, her hands covering her eyes. How did I let this happen? How did I lose the one guy who I could have had everything with? What is wrong with me? Cat, Seb, Putu and even Claud had been trying to get her to move on, to go out and face the world again, but Frankie couldn’t get Sunny out of her head. And with his gorgeous face looming over her every thought, closure seemed impossible.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing, and she shot up – Sunny! – and raced to the couch where it lay precariously.
One incoming call from Claud Cooper.
‘Shit,’ Frankie said. Since his meltdown a few weeks ago, Claud had been calling her every so often to tell her how things were going with Cat. ‘She seems mad at me – do you know why?’ ‘She’s looking more beautiful lately – have you noticed?’ And then he would always ask: ‘Has she mentioned if she still loves me?’ Frankie had tried to tell him that she could not be an impartial jury or really tell Claud anything at all, because, well, Cat was her best friend, and she would relay all conversations to her immediately. But Claud didn’t care, he just needed someone to talk to. And Frankie, now despairing and boyfriend-less, apparently had all the time in the world.
‘Claud?’ Frankie sighed into the phone.
‘Frankie, is that you?’ He sounded exasperated.
‘Yes, Claud, it’s me.’ Who else would it be, Claud?
‘Frankie!’ Cat shouted into her ear. They were on speaker phone.
‘Cat? Claud?’
‘I’m in bloody labour!’ Cat bellowed.
‘What? Oh my God. Where are you?’ Frankie rushed into her bedroom, switching her phone to speaker as she slid on a pair of jeans and a black sweater, and dug around for matching shoes.
‘We’re in the car on the way to the Royal Women’s. We’re about a minute away. Claud! Drive faster. I can feel it coming!’ Cat shrieked.
‘I’m on my way!’ Frankie pulled on a pair of loafers and frantically ordered an Uber.
‘Frank. You won’t guess how it happened. Claud and I were doing it and then all of a sudden I thought I’d peed myself and then we looked down and my waters had broken. Achhh!’ Cat called out in pain.
‘Doing it? You mean …’ Frankie had made her way down to the street to wait for her driver.
‘Yes, we were making love,’ Claud called into the phone, cheerily.
‘I thought …’ Frankie uttered.
‘Yeah, Claud was too scared to “make love” to me for nine bloody months, in case he hurt the baby. Achhh! But then one of his knitting friends said that sex could induce the baby, and, well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Turns out he was right. One time with him and my waters break! Achhh!’ Cat explained between screeches of pain.
‘Okay, that’s enough information. The Uber’s pulling up now. I’m about twenty minutes away. Try to hold on for me!’ Frankie said, hanging up the phone.
As Frankie sprinted through the front doors of the hospital, a strong clinical smell invaded her nostrils. People in wheelchairs crept slowly past her, while doctors wearing blue scrubs zipped in front. Butterflies filled her stomach. For the first time since she lost Sunny, Frankie felt something other than desperation. She was anxious for Cat, but she was also excited. She couldn’t wait to meet the little bundle they had all been dreaming of for the last nine months.
‘Excuse me, where’s the maternity ward? My best friend is about to give birth!’ Frankie animatedly asked a dour-looking woman sitting at the front desk. The woman pointed ahead, barely looking up, and Frankie turned around swiftly. She raced around the corner to the elevators – and then stopped dead in her tracks. There, standing in front of her, waiting for the lift, was Sunny. His stubble was scruffier than usual, his eyes a little bloodshot. He wore a grey knit and black jeans. Frankie yearned to run over and jump into his arms, but she stopped herself.
‘Sunny,’ she said, motionless. His head turned and, as he caught sight of her, he flinched. Frankie’s heart twisted.
‘Frankie,’ he said, monotone.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘I’m working,’ he said, nodding at the rolled-up drawings he carried.
‘Of course. I’m here for Cat. She’s in labour,’ Frankie said, cracking her knuckles.
‘Oh. Give her my best.’ His best? What was she, a work colleague? The elevator doors creaked opened and Frankie and Sunny walked in together; a white-haired man in a wheelchair was already inside, smiling up at the two of them. Frankie took three deep breaths and put her hand lightly on his arm. ‘Sunny, I’m so glad I ran into you. I’ve been trying to call you—’
‘Stop,’ Sunny interrupted, pushing Frankie’s hand away. ‘Frankie, just stop. Stop calling me, stop messaging me, stop emailing me. There’s nothing you can do. You and me, we’re over. It’s time for you to move on,’ he said coolly.
‘Sunny, please, I love you,’ Frankie whimpered pathetically.
He looked ahead, unmoved. As the elevator doors opened, he walked out. Unwelcome tears silently slid down her face as she watched the doors close, shutting out Sunny, along with all her hope.
‘Don’t worry, dear, I’ll love you,’ the old man said from the corner of the elevator.
‘Catherine Cooper. Can you please tell me which room she’s in?’ Frankie said for the third time to the woman sitting at the nurses’ station, who placed a piece of chewing gum in her mouth and glanced back at Frankie with no interest at all.
‘Like I said before, I will help you as soon as I finish this paperwork,’ the nurse said, smacking her gum. Frankie tried calling Claud for the tenth time, but it went straight to voicemail.
‘Listen, lady. My best friend, Catherine Cooper, is somewhere in this building, giving birth. Right now. She’s scared shitless and I have her Push Playlist. She needs to listen to I’m Coming Out now! So, if you don’t tell me where she is, I’m going to go into each room and interrupt each woman in labour, until I find her,’ Frankie snapped.
‘Be my guest.’ The nurse blew a bubble. Frankie stormed off, walking into door number one.
‘Cat? Claud?’ she called, peering around the door. A large, freckly, very pregnant woman was squatting in the centre of the room, butt naked. She squealed as a man rubbed her back.
‘Sorry, wrong room,’ Frankie apologised, dashing out and into the next one. It’s going to be a long day.
‘Cat, Claud?’ Frankie said halfheartedly, poking her head around door number thirty-two.
‘Frank?’ Cat’s croaky voice called. Finally!
Frankie skidded into the room and saw Cat propped up on a pillow, cheeks flushed, holding a tiny wrapped bundle. Claud stood gawkily next to her, stroking the blanketed mass.
‘Oh my God, Cat! You’ve already had the baby?’ Frankie said, tears welling again. ‘You’re a mum.’
‘Yes, he was a quick one. Shot right out. What took you so long?’ she replied huskily, not taking her eyes off the baby. Frankie was about to tell Cat about her run-in with Sunny, and the evil nurse, but then realised that this was Cat and Claud’s moment. They were parents. Nothing else mattered.
‘It’s a he?’ Frankie crept up beside Cat, who was uncharacteristically quiet. She kissed her best friend’s sweaty forehead. Frankie delicately moved the blanket aside and stared into his cute, wrinkly red face.
Frankie froze, silently gasping.
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Claud cooed.
‘So gorgeous.’ Frankie’s heart fluttered.
‘His face is puffy because he got a little squished on the way out,’ Claud said.
‘Okay …’ said Frankie uncertainly. ‘Does he have a name yet?’ she asked.
‘Not yet, we’re still undecided,’ Cat purred.
Frankie looked from Cat, to the baby, to Claud. This is not good.
‘Let me get us some coffees,’ Claud said, dragging his eyes away from the baby. ‘I promised Cat a coffee as soon as she gave birth. She’s been holding out nine months for this! I’ll be right back,’ he chuckled as he left the room. Cat was still, eyes glued to the baby cradled in her arms.
‘Cat, he’s beautiful.’ Frankie rubbed Cat’s arm.
Cat smiled.
‘He’s also very Korean-looking.’
‘I know.’ Cat flinched, her face flushing with guilt.
‘He’s Jin Soo’s, right?’
‘Yeah.’
A silence filled the room, echoing with nothing but the baby’s gurgles.
‘Oh, Cat. How did this happen? Will you tell Claud? Surely he knows?’
‘Let’s not talk about that right now. Let’s just focus on how incredible this little human is,’ Cat said, kissing her baby’s forehead.
Frankie gently stroked the baby’s head. Cat looked up at her, and to Frankie she had never looked more beautiful.
‘You did it, Cat.’ Frankie smiled.
‘We did it,’ Cat replied. Frankie smiled again, unsure whether she was talking about Claud or herself.
‘Want to hold him?’ Cat asked. Frankie bit her lip. She had never held a baby, and he looked so small, so fragile.
Cat nodded at her encouragingly, delicately placing him into Frankie’s outstretched arms. Frankie liked this new, maternal side of Cat. Her serenity was rubbing off on Frankie, and she felt instantly calm as she gently placed her hands under the baby and held him close to her chest. His warmth reverberated across her body and it felt like he really, truly fitted there, like he belonged. Will I ever have this? Frankie thought before quickly pushing any trace of Sunny from her mind. Look how beautiful and perfect he is.
‘So, what do you say?’ Cat asked, breaking into Frankie’s daydream.
‘About what?’
‘Will you be his godmother?’
Frankie felt on the verge of tears once again. ‘Really?’
‘Of course, silly. Who else would it be?’ Cat’s eyes were unusually wet. ‘You know you’re my only family, Frank. I mean, I love my dad but he never talks to me unless it’s to ask for money or a job reference. And who the hell knows where my mother is? Rose, you’re like my sister, my mum and my best friend all rolled into one.’
Tears dripped down Frankie’s face as she clutched the sleeping baby in her arms.
‘I love you and I love this nameless, half-Korean baby,’ Frankie cried.
‘I love you too, you big sook.’
The two silently sobbed next to each other, not speaking a word, but saying everything.
The door opened and Claud, carrying three paper cups of coffee, entered. ‘What have we got here?’ Claud kissed Cat’s forehead. ‘I’ve been thinking of more names. What about Edward, after my father?’ Claud suggested.
‘No, that reminds me of Edward Ferrars,’ Cat dismissed. The baby had started to wake and was wriggling in Frankie’s arms. She passed him delicately to Cat, who collected him with eager arms.
‘And that’s a bad thing? I love Edward Ferrars.’ Frankie laughed.
‘Romeo?’ Claud suggested.
‘Are you kidding?’ Cat and Frankie said in unison.
‘You want our child to be named after a boy who rebels against his family and then kills himself?’ Cat said.
Claud rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I don’t hear you coming up with any great ideas.’
‘I need to get to know him. Work out what name suits him,’ Cat cooed as she stroked her baby’s hair and smiled, her eyes twinkling. She stared at her baby for what felt like forever and then said, ‘I want to call him Jin Soo.’
‘Jin Soo? What sort of name is that?’ Claud asked. Frankie suddenly focused her attention on the hot cup of coffee in her hand.
‘It’s the Korean character’s name on Lost. I like it.’
‘Cat, you’ve officially gone insane,’ Claud remarked.