Chapter Text
“Ok, I think I’m going with the one that has a buzzer that actually works,” Alex says, and Mel sighs. He keeps saying absurd things, like that he can’t possibly rent the apartment with the off-center door knocker or that he’ll just take whichever place Mel likes best, and she doesn’t get it. Deciding on a place to live is a big deal. It floored her that Frank had decided so easily, that Abby would actually be moving somewhere in the same city sight unseen, other than that embarrassing video. She still didn’t know why Frank kept talking to her while he should have been telling Abby about their new apartment.
Then again, the less she thinks about Frank and Abby, the better.
“That seems like an odd way to decide on a place to live,” Mel says, trying not to interfere, and Alex laughs.
“Relax, King.” Mel blinks, disoriented for a moment. She realizes that she’s become more used to Frank calling her King than Alex, who always does it “to live up to his bro potential.” It feels different when Frank says it. “It really is the best option, especially at that price. I’m submitting my application now.”
Cost is a much more sensible metric to use, she thinks, but she decides not to share that.
Part of her can’t believe that she’s actually talking on the phone with Alex, that it’s the third phone conversation she’s had with him in the past two weeks. They’d probably had three calls in the past two years before that, and she’s having trouble accepting that his plan to move home to Pittsburgh is finally happening. He’d been saying it ever since he chose Berkeley, that California wasn’t where he wanted to be, that he’d want to be where Mel was, eventually, but especially since his oldest brother moved home with his wife.
Becca had said he was getting FOMO about missing out on Pittsburgh when she heard the news. Alex had laughed, when Mel relayed that to him, but notably not disagreed.
“Alright, if all goes well, I’ll be able to move straight in on the 17th,” he says. Mel opens the hospital scheduling app and is relieved to see she doesn’t have a shift.
“I’m off that day!” It looks like Frank is on, though. Not that she has it automatically toggled to see both of their shifts or anything. “Oooh, will you buy me pizza at the end of the day? I’ve never helped somebody move and then been paid in pizza. It’s referenced in a lot of romcoms, though.”
Alex laughs, the laugh that she knows means he’s genuinely happy, that somebody he loves has done something delightful around him. She feels like she probably glows every time she hears it and remembers that she, Mel King, is on a list of somebody’s favorite people.
“Sure, we can have pizza for dinner. I’m hiring movers, though. I don’t know how to do a cross-country move where I’m not even driving without them.”
Mel hums. “Some people use those Pod things, but I don’t know how that works. Frank hurt his back helping his parents move, though, so it’s probably a good idea to leave it to the professionals.”
“Oh, Frank hurt his back, did he?” Alex sounds smug, and Mel would regret mentioning him again to Alex if she weren't committed to her agenda of getting them to be friends.
“Alex,” Mel whines. She doesn’t let herself talk like this very often, but she knows Alex finds “bratty Mel” hilarious. “You know it’s not like that. He’s married.”
“And marriages never end, and people never fall out of love, and nobody ever cheats,” Alex says.
She’s not doing this with him again. “Not Frank. And not me.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.” She feels like he’s doing that thing where he says one thing and really means another, but she’s done.
“Yes, I think you’ll be great friends! Just like we are, and just like Frank and I are.” She tries to sound firm. She’s not very good at that.
“I don’t think we’re friends the same way you and Frank are,” he replies, laughing again. It’s nice to hear him sound happy. It’s been a tough few years, for both of them. “Or, maybe, if he and I become friends the way you guys are, then he’s not as straight and narrow as I thought.”
“I’m not sure, actually,” Mel realizes. It would probably be weird to text Frank out of the blue and ask if he’s straight, right? He does text her odd things sometimes, but not that random. “But you guys do have a lot in common. Actually, I know! I’ll make a list! A list of things for you two to discuss. And then you guys can talk about that list and not other things, like things I’ve told you about Frank’s arms. Or dreams I’ve had about Frank. Or maybe anything I’ve told you about Frank, just in general. A list of safe topics.”
She likes this idea a lot. She starts the note right away, frowning when she realizes she doesn’t actually know what people who like running and gyms talk about. She puts it on the list and adds a question mark. They’ll figure it out.
“Sure, Mel,” Alex agrees, sounding amused, but in that way where he sounds fond of her, not like he’s laughing at her. She loves how expressive he is, or maybe how well she can read him. “I should let you go, though. I can’t believe we’ll be back in the same time zone soon.”
Mel wiggles in her seat and wishes, not for the first time, that she had that remote from the Adam Sandler movie so she could speed up time. Although she had never seen it, so maybe the moral of the movie was that it’s bad to speed up time? Either way, she wishes Alex were here, now, even if two weeks isn’t that long, especially not compared to the years they’ve been apart since graduation.
“I can’t wait,” Mel says.
“Me neither.”
What a relief, Mel thinks, to fully believe it when somebody says that.
Mel can feel Alex’s eyes on her the second his door closes behind Frank. She’s trying not to dwell on what she heard from Abby, the easy way she told Tanner to move the phone so “Daddy” could see him, but it’s not going very well. It’s just so clear to her that they fit together, a little family unit against the world, and Mel hates that there’s a part of her that wants to break it.
She decides to inspect the ceiling rather than having any of the several conversations Alex might be interested in starting right now.
“Your apartment has surprisingly high ceilings,” Mel tries. “I don’t know that I had noticed that on the tour. It’s nice.”
“Mel.”
“Alex.”
“Melissa.”
“Alexander.”
“Melissa Anne King.” She winces and reluctantly looks at him. She’s not quite sure how to interpret his expression, the mixture of amusement and concern and judgment. “Why didn’t you tell me that he’s also in love with you?”
Mel blinks. Frowns. Blinks again. “What?”
Alex leans across the table, so she mirrors him. “Why, in the many times I have listened to you tell me about Francis Langdon–”
“His full name is Frank, actually, after his grandfather, who he called Granddad–”
“Fascinating,” Alex says, waving that away. “Why didn’t you ever mention that he's obsessed with you?”
Mel’s frown deepens. “Nobody is obsessed. This isn’t Twilight.”
“Tell that to Edward fucking Cullen over there,” Alex replies, which spins Mel out for a second as her brain flashes through a series of images with no input from her: Frank, glittering in the sun, Frank turning a pea coat’s collar up as he loiters around the edge of a room, Frank, helping with a lab in a high school science class. Admittedly, she might have tried to imagine that last one before.
“If anything, I think Frank seems more like Jacob,” Mel says absently. “His hair grows very quickly, for example–”
“Ok, fine, if he’s Jacob, then you’re freaking Renesmee, and Frank has imprinted on your fetus ass,” Alex returns, and she wishes Becca had never convinced him to read Twilight so this conversation could never happen.
“I’m not a fetus,” Mel protests, wrinkling her nose, and whatever Alex is going to say is cut off by Frank opening the door. He’s still talking to Abby, and Mel wishes she didn’t have to watch the easy way they interact. Abby even jokes about them getting divorced, like anyone would ever want to divorce Frank Langdon if they were lucky enough to marry him.
Alex shoots her a we’re not done here look that Mel ignores, just like she ignores the way her heart drops when Frank calls Abby “babe” and tells her he loves her.
Alex has no idea what he’s talking about.