Lost

1

Alone in the backseat of the car, Franchesca noticed how peaceful and quiet it was, the same peace and quiet that had become of her life. But it was the quiet that bothered her, the quiet of emptiness that resonated in her soul. It was a reminder that in spite of the life she was living, happiness was playing a wicked game of hide and seek; and Franchesca was tired of playing. Something had to give. Franchesca glanced at the time displayed on her phone. There was time to spare before she was due back home. She had enough time to stop and indulge in satisfying her sweet tooth. "Brian ," Franchesca's  sweet voice sang. She waited for the eyes of her driver to focus on her reflection through the rearview mirror. "Can you please stop me at Sweets Bakery? Please?" Brian smiled, "Sure thing Mrs. Okonjo." Franchesca frowned, "What have I told you about calling me Mrs. Okonjo? Mrs. Okonjo lives on a different continent." The young man chuckled, "I know Mrs. Okonjo, but your husband wants us to address you as Mrs. Okonjo." "But when he's not around you can call me Franchesca. How many times do I have to tell you that?" "I know, but I don't want to get too comfortable and call you that in front of him. So I'll just get in the habit of calling you Mrs. Okonjo all of the time."

Franchesca sighed with irritation. Brian had a point, and she definitely didn't want him slipping and having to deal with her husband. Brian looked at Franchesca through the rearview mirror and laughed, "It's not that bad Mrs. Okonjo." Franchesca focused on the traffic outside of the tinted window and mumbled, "I guess. You would think I've adapted by now but I haven't." "You're doing a terrific job." Franchesca eyes shifted to the rearview mirror and cut her eyes at the amusement in Brian's face. She stuck her tongue out at him. Franchesca appreciated the moments she could joke around with her driver. He, along with a few others of her husband's staff provided her with a daily dose of human interaction. If it were not for them, Franchesca was sure she would go stir crazy. When Brian  pulled up to the bakery, Franchesca wasted no time exiting the Rolls Royce. Brian jumped out of the driver's seat and gave Franchesca a stern look. She knew his job was to open the doors for her. Franchesca smiled up at Brian with a mischievous grin and made a dash for the bakery's entrance. Brian called out, "What do you think you're doing Mrs. Okonjo? Franchesca called over her shoulder, "I'll be right back." "This is not how it..." he let his voice trail being that she was already inside. Mrs. Okonjo was such a hard-headed woman. He shook his head with a sigh of aggravation. She was going to be the death of him.

Inside the bakery, the arrangement of freshly baked goodies in their display cases captured all of Franchesca attention. The aroma of sweet batter and delectable icing invaded her nose, causing her craving to intensify. Since there was a line, Franchesca took her time strolling by the baked goods as she tallied up in her head how many of each treat she wanted. "Franchesca?" She recognized that voice anywhere. It was still raspy with a country drawl. She looked past the line of people and on the other side was her ex-boyfriend Antonio. He smiled. She walked around the line to join him at the counter. "This is funny bumping into you here of all places," she said with a pleasant but surprised smile. Antonio looked over at the workers behind the counter. "My baby mama got me picking up my son's cake. Today's his birthday." "So how old is he now?" Franchesca asked. She truly missed Antonio , but a part of her still held resentment for him.

He was as nice looking as he was when she first met him years ago, except now he had grown his hair in shoulder length locks. Antonio was average height, a few inches taller than her five foot seven frame. He had a honey beige complexion that was in contrast to Franchesca mocha complexion. She used to always refer to their skin tones as a Reese's peanut butter cup. And at one time, Franchesca thought they were really sweet together, just like the popular candy. "He turned one today," Antonio answered. There was an awkward pause between the two of them. Franchesca could see in Antonio eyes that he was probably thinking the same thing she was thinking: what should have been. Franchesca smiled, "He's already one. Time is really flying. I bet he looks just like you too." Wearing a proud smile, he answered, "Yeah, he does." "So how are things with you and his mama?" "It ain't perfect but we're trying to work it out. Sometimes we together, sometimes we ain't. You know how it goes."

His eyes admired Franchesca whole appearance. He said, "You look really good." Franchesca looked down at herself. Looking good was a requirement. If it was left up to her, she would wear jeans and a t-shirt every day. She had to look above average even if it was to walk to the mailbox, which wasn't a daily regimen of hers anyway. They had people for that.

Today Franchesca donned a pair of multi-colored geometric designed silk Emilio Pucci trousers with an airy slightly sheer ecru colored button down silk Maison Martin Margiela blouse. On her feet was a pair of Valentino Garavani goose feathered ankle strapped pumps. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Her face was lightly made. She wore a simple pair of diamond studs in her ears. A delicate gold necklace with a diamond sphere pendant decorated her neck. She wore only one ring, which was her wedding ring, a family heirloom of her husbands. It was set in platinum and showcased a large round enhanced blue diamond center stone surrounded by a frame of smaller accent diamonds. Smaller blue diamonds, also framed with white diamonds, flanked each side, while the diamond-lined double shank gave it a very vintage appeal. It was exceptionally beautiful. Franchesca was told it was an actual mined blue diamond; not lab created. It was worth more than what the average man earned in a lifetime. "Thanks." Her tone remained modest.

"So how are the kids?" Antonio asked. "They're great. Getting big of course," she answered. She could see the genuineness dancing in his eyes, which helped her to be at ease. The worker behind the counter placed the box containing Antonio son's cake on the glass counter. She smiled and asked, "What else can I get ya?" Antonio looked at Franchesca and said, "Tell her what you want." "Are you sure? I can pay for it myself," Franchesca said. "Let me do this. I can afford a few pastries for you," he joked. Being that Franchesca didn't bother to bring any money inside with her, she decided to take advantage of Antonio kindness. She told the lady what she wanted and it came up to eighteen dollars. "Damn, your ass done got expensive," Antonio said. "Sorry," Franchesca said with a giggle.

She couldn't help but notice the wad of cash Antonio pulled out of his pocket. Once he peeled off enough bills to cover the cost of their goods, he glanced up at Franchesca causing her to quickly shift her eyes away.

After Antonio paid for his things he handed Franchesca the bag and pastry box that belonged to her. They stepped aside to finish their reunion. Antonio looked at Franchesca with a hint of concern. "So how have you really been?" Franchesca smile faded and her eyes shifted as she fell into thought. "I can't complain. I mean, I got everything a woman could want." "Yeah, but you don't seem happy. That excitement that used to be in your eyes is gone." Franchesca lowered her eyes to the floor. That excitement vacated her soul a long time ago. Softly, Antonio said, "I'm sorry Franchesca. If I could go back in time and—"

She interrupted him by waving her hand. Shaking her head and offering a weak smile, "It is what it is Antonio . You did what you had to. I understand that and I forgave you." Antonio wanted to touch Franchesca, caress her, kiss her and hold her. He missed her and wished she was still his, but he fucked up. He placed his box on a nearby bench and pulled out his wallet. He gave Franchesca one of his business cards. "I know I can't call you, but whenever you need to, there's my number." Franchesca looked down at his card. It was to his car detail and audio shop.

She was happy for him that he finally got what he always wanted, but he had paid a big price for it. She smiled at him, "It was nice seeing you Antonio , but my driver is probably wondering what's taking me so long." "I understand," he said. Franchesca wished she could hug him but she knew her husband would be able to sniff out the scent of another man on her. "Bye," she said softly as she walked away and headed out of the door. Brian swiftly got out of the car to open the door for Franchesca. Shutting the door his eyes followed Antonio as he exited the bakery. Franchesca watched Antonio until he disappeared from her sight. When she turned around Brian was looking at her. "What?" she asked innocently. "You're asking to die," Brian said. "I didn't know he would be in there." "Mr. Okonjo won't see it like that." "Well you're not going to tell him anything, so he won't know." "It's not me you should be worried about. Your husband has eyes everywhere Mrs. Okonjo."