Frankie's Plan

Frankie’s Plan

Frankie was tired. Bone tired. She had pulled another double at the café yesterday, and her feet were still killing her. Today's shift promised to be busy. Frankie would have loved nothing more than to have two days in a row off of work. Like a normal weekend that normal people get every week! Wouldn’t that be awesome? She would never know. She couldn’t afford to have two days off every week! Certainly not weekend days. Those were the big tip days; there’s no way Frankie could miss weekend shifts and stick to the Plan.

Francine Elizabeth Margaret O’Duggan, AKA Frankie, was born into a poor-ish family in South Dakota. Like most of her German neighbors, she learned how to work. Everyone in her family worked. It was required. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat” was the family mantra. So, Frankie worked. Hard.

“Catch the register, Frankie, then bus those tables,” hollered her boss from the kitchen. Levi owned the café and cooked most of the day shifts. He worked hard, too, and they got along pretty well.

So, Frankie greeted the folks waiting to pay their tab, swiftly completed the transaction and wished them a great rest of their day. How fun for them that they were headed out to the lake to swim and ski and get some sun! Frankie’s Plan didn’t have time for that stuff.

Since graduation, Frankie had lived on her own, in a single wide on the edge of town. It wasn’t much, but she was proud that it was hers. Three years into her Grown-Up Plan, she was making it, but barely.

Frankie could pay her rent, and the lot rent, which, c’mon, why is that so high? And she could buy food, carefully, and some clothes, from the thrift stores and garage sales, so she had the basics covered, but there was little room for anything extra. Because this girl was determined to hide away as much cash as she could, she was willing to work hard, keep it simple, and think of the future. Her Plan was to save enough money to buy a cabin in the Hills and sell her art online. Frankie loved to paint and make jewelry and do crafty things in what little spare time she had, and she dreamed of doing that all day long, everyday. Kind of a crazy idea, but that was her idea of wonderful.

So off she went, nearly every day of the week, to work at the café at least one shift. Hourly plus tips, day after day, doing what she could to be a great waitress, treat people with kindness, and keep herself on track.

In their tiny town, most of her customers at the café were regulars. They came in frequently, some daily, and casual relationships developed between the server and the served. For five years, Frankie had handed out good, hot food and had gotten to know her regulars pretty well. It was easy to see how hard Frankie worked and they respected that; some even knew her Grown-Up Plan and encouraged her in it.

Every day, Frankie took her little black book out of her back pocket to make notes. Not hot date notes. It wasn’t that kind of little black book. She kept track of the mundane, how many hours she worked, how much she made in tips, the amounts of all the bills she paid, and the cost of items she bought. Her favorite note was how much money she had squirreled away that day, the down payment on her future, her Grown-Up Plan. She could have kept records in a more modern way, like an xls, but she liked the feel of the little book. Having it with her made her feel more secure, like she was in control.

This afternoon at the café, Frankie was taking a break in the corner booth before the Friday supper rush. She was making note of her day so far, updating her little black book, and grabbing a bite to eat before things got nuts. When the harness bells on the door jingled, Frankie looked up expecting to see one of her regulars.

“Wait a minute, who is this?” she wondered. He was one of those guys. You know, the ones that catch the eye of everyone around them, male and female. Tall, but not too tall. Nice hair, a bit of a beard, fit, trim and handsome. Striking even. He was definitely not a regular!

Frankie was happy to end her break to welcome this lovely stranger to the little café in the middle of nowhere South Dakota! She wouldn’t want him to feel unwelcome, now would she?

“Hi! Take any seat you like and I’ll be right with you,” she said to him. She gathered up a glass of ice water and a menu and headed toward the booth he had selected.

“The Special today is the open-faced beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and gravy. It comes with your choice of vegetable or salad, for $8.95. Anything else on the menu is also a good choice. Levi is a great cook!”

“Thank you, Miss. That Special sounds good; I’ll take it with a salad. Ranch, on the side, please.”

“Sure thing! Would you like something more to drink?”

“If you have unsweetened tea, I’ll take a tall one of those, thanks.”

“Okay, coming right up!” Frankie replied, and headed toward the kitchen.

When she returned to his table with the iced tea, Frankie smiled and asked, “So what brings you to our little town?”

“Well, actually, I’m looking for someone. I was given an amazing painting as a gift that my friend bought at a flea market. The seller thought the artist was from somewhere around here. I’ve searched online quite extensively, but I cannot locate any helpful information. So, I decided to search in person. This is the fifth town I’ve been to.”

“Wow, that’s interesting! That painting must really be something for you to come all the way here to find the artist,” Frankie said. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Frankie.”

“My name is Novak; nice to meet you, Frankie,” he answered with a smile. “And it IS really something, that painting. It has a feel to it, you know? It seems to speak to me when I look at it, and I must find out where it came from. I need to know the artist.”

“What will you do when you find him? Or her?” Frankie asked. “I know a few people who paint a little; I might be able to help you.”

“Honestly, I’m hoping to convince him or her to come with me.”

“What? Wow, ok. That’s interesting, too. Come with you where?”

“I have a small artist’s colony in Savoy, which is west of Lead. I have one more cabin open that is waiting for just the right artist to come join us. There are twelve of us so far, and I guess we need that baker’s dozen to be complete. I know it sounds crazy, but I am convinced that whoever painted this piece is the one.”

Frankie was staring off into space imagining herself in that final cabin. “Ahhh, that sounds like a perfect life!”

“It is wonderful,” Novak said. “We all love it there, surrounded by nature that inspires us, and we so want to share it with another artist who will appreciate it as much as we do. So far, the only piece of information I have is the signature on the painting, but it’s not much. It says FEMOD. That doesn’t really seem like a name. I haven’t been able to find anyone by that name online at all, and no one I’ve talked to knows anyone called that either.”

Frankie felt herself go very still. She almost felt as though she was watching this conversation from outside her body. “Could this be real? How can this be? FEMOD?” Thoughts were zipping around in her head while her body was frozen.

“Are you ok?” Novak asked carefully. “You look a little pale all of a sudden. I hope I haven’t upset you.”

“Ah, yeah, no, okay, yeah, I’m fine,” Frankie stammered. “Would, would you mind if I sat down a minute?”

“Please do. I feel badly that you seem troubled.”

“Nooo, definitely not troubled, but I sure am surprised,” she managed to squeak out. “You see, FEMOD stands for Francine Elizabeth Margaret O’Duggan, and I know her.”

“That’s awesome, Frankie! I’m so excited to hear that! Please, can you tell me how to get in touch with this Francine? Is she from somewhere nearby?”

“You could say that, yes,” she said slowly.

“Wonderful! Can you get me a phone number or an address where I can look her up?” Novak was beyond happy. His eyes lit up, his smile causing tiny crow’s feet to show up on his face, and his speech was faster and higher pitched. He was almost dancing in his booth with excitement.

“Well…I guess I could give you my phone number, or we could just chat in person,” Frankie replied shyly. “I’m Francine Elizabeth Margaret O’Duggan, Frankie for short.” She smiled.

“Oh my! This is just brilliant! I’m absolutely thrilled to meet you! I cannot wait to tell you all about our colony and see if you might be interested in joining us. Your work spoke to me, and I had to track you down. I can’t believe I’ve finally found you!”

“It’s pretty darn exciting for me too. I’ve never had anyone so happy about one of my paintings. And wait till you hear about my Grown-Up Plan!”

“Please tell me.”

“I’ve been working here for five years, five, six, sometimes seven days a week, saving up to move to the Hills and live in a little cabin where I can paint and craft all day long. I didn’t know how long it would take for that to happen, but that’s always been my dream. Crazy, huh?”

Novak, his voice full of relief, said “Not so crazy after all.”

Frankie was floating on air. It was a busy Friday night, but she hardly noticed. Novak had agreed to come back after the café closed to chat, and she was eager to hear every detail. This seemed almost too good to be true. She didn’t want to make a foolish mistake, but everything about Novak and what he was saying rang true to her. Maybe this is it!

Novak met her outside the café, and they walked down to his quaint, old hotel and found seats in the tiny lobby. He shared with her the details about the colony outside Savoy, the artists, their mediums, the business. All of it sounded amazing!

Around midnight, the hotel manager appeared and hinted with his facial expression and some throat clearing that it was time to be done in the lobby.

“This has been one of the most rewarding days of my life, Frankie! Finding you, getting to know you…it’s been great. I hope you will seriously consider joining us. Please say you’ll at least visit us, to see what we’ve got going.”

“I am so flattered, and I think this sounds perfect, but while I’d love to come visit, I just don’t think I could afford the cost of moving right now. I’ve saved a bit of money, but not a lot.”

“My apologies! I apparently failed to mention that I am prepared to offer some assistance in that department. If you’ll agree to join us, I have $20,000 for moving expenses and to get you set up in your new home. Would that help?”

“Ah, yeah…that would help!” So Frankie decided to take this wild, unexpected step. “Novak, you’ve convinced me. I can head to Savoy on Monday to take a look at your set up, if that works for you.”

“Absolutely!

What a crazy, amazing day! Grown-Up Plan, here we come!