Right Into Place

Fifty-Four

"Ha! I got it!" Franco yelled cheerily as he walked inside the flat. His voice echoed loudly, overpowering the news I was watching. He had been gone for two days, he never told me where he is so I waited. . . now he's here, just in time for the 50th anniversary tomorrow. It's him who is going to deal with the reporters, not me.

"Got what?" I asked placidly, turning down the volume so we could converse better. He walked right behind me, smelling like car air freshener and from the back, slammed something hard with his arm over my shoulder.

"You love me," he whispered and let go of whatever he hit my chest with. I took it and examined it in my hand, looking like a journal and it was familiar.

Franco sat beside me, a wide, cheeky grin on his face as he watched my reaction.

"The '89 journal, dad's journal?" I quizzed skeptically, raising an eyebrow to add to the real emotion.

He grinned wider, his eyes flickering with victory. "The original. All the way from America."

I don't understand. . . "How did you get it?" I asked. I remember where I last left it, whom I last left it.

He scoffed, "Easy, asked Darwin to check for the Swifts -"

"Gleesons, idiot," I muttered and he laughed.

"My mistake," he said then continued, "Got him all the way to South Dakota where the Swifts are in. Idiot, no? But when I realised that was a mistake, I told him to check for Taylor's background. . . sorry, was curious. . ." I nodded to make it a point that I was alright with it. "Her real parents were divorced so they set her up for adoption."

I paid more attention that I turned the telly off. I remembered her telling me she was adopted because her parents got killed in an accident. And that she didn't have too much of a childhood because of that. . . she lied.

I still remembered. . . wow.

"Just thought you oughta know that sunshine isn't exactly summer and spring." He grinned. "But then I went to America myself, I needed the '89, Darwin was too slow so turns out she moved out of her flat. And oh, I got to see Cara too, still pretty, and apparently still not interested in me. So yeah, I got your '89. . . swear I didn't read it."

I laughed a bit. "Like I'll believe that."

"No, no, I swear. . ." He raised both his hands and plastered an innocent look on his face. "You can read it later, when you wake up, twelve, to the exact, no?"

"Screw you," I muttered, laughing a bit. "But thanks. . . for taking this back."

He scoffed. "It was easy. You may now start writing your original novel, '100 Reasons Why I Love Franco Styles.'" he smiled cheekily. "Reason number one, because of his awesome suit he needs to take off. Bye." He walked off.

I turned the news back on when he left. I was thankful about the journal but I highly doubt that the letter was still here. I opened it, flipping to the date of my birthday first but not really reading. . . none. I flipped to the last page, pasted against the last blank page were two small cards. Okay. That's it. The letter's still here and it didn't seem to have been touched at all.

After a quiet dinner, the of us went off to bed. And the inevitable happened, I woke up at twelve. I went on ahead to my desk, turned my lamp on and put my glasses on -I found it on the toy helicopter Franco brought home. I first read about my father's reaction when I was brought into this world. . .

1 Feb 89

This is the 8th time in my life that I went to the delivery room for a child and I can assure you, THIS WAS THE LAST!