The Past is Only the Future with the Lights On

"What does my father seen in that woman?" I asked rhetorically, plopping down on my back next to Frank on my bed. "I mean, she's nothing like my mother."

Frank twisted his mouth as if he were thinking about something, and wasn't sure if he should say it. He did.

"Well, what was your mom like?" he asked, turning onto his stomach and glancing at me.

I racked my brain for ways to explain her. She was such an amazing person, it was hard to put in words.

"Let's see. . ." I began, tapping my finger to my chin thoughtfully. "We didn't have much in common; so pretty much the opposite of me." I shrugged, indifferently, though, that was a crappy way to put it.

"Kelly, I find it hard to believe that the woman who gave birth to you was a hideous, boring, selfish man who was annoying as hell," Frank laughed.

I hit him lightly in his chest, a helpless smile on my face. "I didn't mean so. . .thorough like that," I said, chuckling.

"Well, tell me less thoroughly then," he offered with small smile, actually seeming to want to know what my mom was like.

"Well, she was very free-spirited, and outgoing. I almost always had a cautious side to me, something I'd gotten from my dad," I told him, recalling how I use to play things safe in Bridgewater; until Frank unlocked this whole new side of me. "Mom was always trying new things. . .But one thing her and I did have in common with each other was how we kept to ourselves. We didn't like to show too much emotion or let people inside our heads, you know??" I asked him, watching him nod in understanding.

"What about me?" Frank suddenly said.

"What about you?" I asked, confused.

"Well, do you keep things from me? Keep me out of your head?" I smiled at the hint of curiosity that betrayed his attempted nonchalant voice.

No sense in lying to him, right? He knew me too well to know when I was bluffing and when I was telling the truth anyways.

"Frank," I started, turning on my side and resting my head in my hand. His actions mirrored mine, those beautiful hazel pools silently urging me to continue. "It's kind of impossible to keep you out of my head when you're in most of my thoughts," I told him honestly. He smiled, definitely pleased with my answer. "And about keeping things from you, when I talk to you, you tend to have this weird spell on me that makes me tell the truth and show my true colors, I guess. Much like me telling you this now. I must say, it gets quite frustrating sometimes," I laughed, Frank letting out a low, airy chuckle as well.

With the exception of one, teeny, tiny secret that I've been hiding since I met you.

I laid back down on my back, sighing as I replayed parts of tonight's uncomfortable dinner in my head.

We hadn't mentioned the wedding much, which I was thankful for. Though I had found out quite a lot about Jenny this evening.

She was 34 years of age, nearly ten years younger than my father, yuck, and she worked as a secretary for some big executive guy, using her pay to support herself and seven year old daughter.

That's right. If all went well and they married, not only would I be getting a stepmother out of this, but a stepsister as well.

I wasn't liking this plan very much.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Frank whispered, probably noticing my blank stare at the fixtures in the ceiling and using my recent "confession" to his advantage.

"Just wondering what my life is going to be like in a few months." Or whenever they get married.

He abruptly grabbed my hand, feeling like the millionth time today, and gave it a tight squeeze.

"This has probably been the worst Christmas ever," I sighed, scooting closer to Frank and resting my head on his chest, his arms snaking around my waist.

"Tomorrow will make up for it though," he promised me, a smile detectable in his voice.

"Oh? And what's tomorrow?" I looked up at him, a teasing smirk on his lips.

"You get your present tomorrow," he said in a voice that shouted "isn't it obvious?!"

"I don't deserve a present from you. I've been such an ass. Besides, I don't have anything to give you," I told him, nuzzling my head into his neck and closing my eyes.

God, why did he have to smell so damn good? This sort of crossed the friendship line, didn't it?

"You really want to get me something?" he asked, laughing as I nodded my head vigorously. "Okay. . .you know what I want from you?"

I opened my eyes, feeling his thumb glide over bare area on my waist from where my shirt had ridden up a bit.

"What?" I said softly, perfectly happy with this picture.

"I want what I was close to getting a couple hours ago. . .All I want for Christmas is a kiss from you, Kelly," he whispered the last part, his cool breath on my skin making goosebumps rise across my arms.

"Who said you were close to getting it?" I pointed out, trying to stall to make my want for this kiss as well less obvious.

"Oh, you would have given in," he told me, rolling over so that he was on top of me, much like the position we were in only a mere few hours ago, the same discussion topic at hand, too.

"Probably," I laughed, trying to concentrate as Frank's breath on my face seemed to make this simple task impossible. Along with our tangled legs, the close proximity to each other, his eyes, staring at my lips. . .

"Just like you're about to give in now," he smirked slightly, as he slowly leaned down in attempt to close the distance between our lips, only the sound of my father, just feet below us, calling my name stopped us.

With an irritated sigh, Frank rolled onto his back, leaving my breathing considerably erratic. Reluctantly, I stood up, making my way towards my bedroom door.

"You know, there's always tomorrow. When we'll be alone." I turned around to see his grinning face, my heart accelerating at the thought of what tomorrow would hold in store for me.