Frank and Michelle

“Right, that should be everything!” said Michelle, glancing at the list I’d made. She’d grabbed it from my hands as soon as we reached the mall, which was about a half hour away from home by bus – strangely, it felt less and less weird to refer to 172 Marshall Drive as “home” – and almost literally dragged me from store to store, checking off items one after the other. “Lemme double check here.” Her eyes narrowed and she put a finger to her mouth as she quietly mumbled what was on the list, before saying out loud “...And a toothbrush. Yep, that’s all!”

“Good,” I replied. “Any more and my arms would fall off, these are really heavy.” I motioned to the several bags of clothes and assorted stuff I was carrying. It was much more than I’d planned on buying, and she’d paid for all of it.

“Listen, Michelle, are you really sure about this?” I asked. “You’re already giving me a place to stay and, well… All of this, this wasn’t cheap.”

“’s no trouble, really,” she answered with a smile. “I’m happy to help.”

“I’ll pay you back, seriously.”

“Nah, you don’t need to do that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m good. Just pay it forward.”

“Still, I would like to do something to thank you,” I replied. Then, glancing around the mall, I noticed a movie theatre. “How about I treat you to a movie?”

“Well, alright,” Michelle answered. “But can you pay for it?”

“I can, actually,” I said, putting my hand in my pocket and counting bills and coins with my fingers. “I have money. Some. Not much, but it should be enough for two tickets.”

“Brilliant! Then let’s go!”

Three hours later we were sitting on the bus on the way home, chatting excitedly about the movie we’d seen.

“...But I still can’t believe how expressive that actor was, even under all that makeup. What did you say his name was?”

“Ben Mendelsohn, I think.”

“I don’t remember noticing him in any other movies before, has he done anything else?”

“Lemme see,” said Michelle, pulling out her cellphone and tapping the screen several times. “Looks like he’s done… Plenty of stuff, but nothing that really put him on the map until like two or three years ago.”

I chuckled. “Well, that would explain it.”

“It does,” said Michelle, smiling. “Oh by the way, how are you regarding MCU stuff?”

“MCU?”

“The Marvel Cinematic Universe! All those superheroes movies, there’s been like a half-dozen of them each year since a decade ago. The movie we saw today is one of them. It’s al leading up to a big finale that’s going to be released next month! Have you been living under a rock?”

It was the fist time I’d seen Michelle be so passionate about something. “Oh, those,” I said. “I’ve seen maybe… Two of them? Three? Including today’s I mean. I don’t really follow that stuff.”

She stared at me in disbelief. “Seriously, mate? We gotta correct that, post-haste. I’ll cook up a plan. Oh, here’s our stop,” she replied, getting up from her seat and walking to the front of the bus. I followed her, carrying the bags I’d lugged around all afternoon, as we got off and walked the few hundred metres to the front door. It was well after dark, but the afternoon had been worth it; between the shopping and the movie, I’d really enjoyed myself.

“Just leave the bags in the living room for now, I’ll get dinner started,” Michelle said when we got inside. That made me pause.

“You’re cooking again? We still have leftovers from yesterday!” I protested; I really didn’t want her to overdo it, but she scoffed at that.

“Psh, leftovers are what ya eat when there’s no time to cook, and we happen to have time, it’s not even nine! Just relax and put your feet up, I’ll call you when food’s ready.”

I shook my head, and sat down on the sofa. Conroy took the chance to jump up in my lap for a cuddle; like Michelle had said, he was very friendly: I’d only met him the day before, and he was already seeking attention from me.

About ten minutes later the doorbell rang. “Frank, can ya get that?” Michelle called from the kitchen. “I’ve got my hands full right now.”

When I opened the door I found myself face-to-face with an old man. His white hair was barely visible under his cap, and he was supporting himself with a cane; I could see that under the coat he was wearing he was hunched over quite a bit. He just stood there in silence, looking me up and down, as if he was appraising me.

“Uh… Hello?” I said. “Can I help you?”

“Who’re ya?” he said, in an abrasive tone.

“I’m… I’m Frank,” I replied, a bit startled. “And you are?”

“Where’s Michelle?” he demanded. Then, without waiting for an answer, he took a step forward, and shouted past me. “Michelle! Chell, dear, are ya there? Everything good?”

“Excuse me--” I began, but he started trying to push past me, and he was surprisingly strong for such a frail-looking person; even so, I managed to keep him from getting in.

Until he stamped his foot down on mine and slammed his cane into my ribs, that is.

As I doubled over in pain he crossed the threshold and walked through the living room with surprisingly quickness, still calling out for Michelle, who came running in from the kitchen to see what the shouting was all about.

“Ralph, what…?” she asked, bewildered.

“Ya okay, luv?” asked… Ralph, apparently.

“I’m fine, but what are you doing here this late?”

“Got worried ‘bout ya. This noon some idiot was sleeping on your front door, so I called the cops on him...”

Oh, so he was responsible for the nice chat I’d had with Charlie and Tony, was he?

“...and then all afternoon no one answered when I rang the doorbell, and now this git--”

“Excuse me!” I protested from the floor, still in pain, but he kept going.

“--this git tried to stop me from coming in.” He shook his cane at me. “Serves ya right!”

Michelle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Ralph,” she said, after a few seconds.

Ralph turned to her. “Yes, luv?”

“Ralph,” she repeated; her voice was a bit strained, almost exasperated. “Thank you for worrying about me. However,” and she walked over to me, pushed the door closed, and offered me her hand, which I took to help myself get back on my unsteady feet. “This lad here is Frank. He’s my friend. Frank, this is Ralph Stevens. He lives across the road.”

Ralph looked at the two of us in silence for a while. “Yer boyfriend?” he said, finally.

“Just a friend who’s a boy,” Michelle answered. Aw.

(Wait, what the hell? Where did that sense of disappointment come from?)

“He’ll be staying here for a while, so please try not to hurt him.” She glanced at me. “Any more.”

Ralph scratched his head and replied “Fine, ah guess.”

Michelle gave him a sweet smile. “Now, what do we say to a friend’s friend who we’ve accidentally hurt?”

“Accidentally? Accidental my--” I snapped, but she shushed me with a look.

Ralph looked at me. Our gazes locked together. Our eyes narrowed, and we kept staring daggers at each other, until Michelle cleared her throat, and we both looked at her.

“What do we say?” she repeated, with a slight edge in her voice. Her smile never wavered.

Ralph got the hint. “Apologies, lad,” he said, and he sighed. “Thought ya were some good-for-noth’n out ta hurt Chell.”

Well, at least his heart was in the right place. “Apology accepted,” I replied, and gave him a grudging nod, which he returned.

“Brilliant!” exclaimed Michelle, clapping her hands and smiling. “Glad that’s settled. Now, Ralph, since it’s already this late, do you wanna stop for dinner?”

Ralph glanced at me. “Don’ wanna impose...”

“Ah, ‘s no trouble at all,” replied Michelle. “I’ll just put some extra veggies and broth into the soup, won’t be long. What d’ya say?”

“If ya insist.”

“Perfect! Now, you two lads set the table, I’ll finish cooking the food.”