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Frank Langdon was a good liar.
Unfortunately, Abby had learned that fact the hard way.
It was simple math: when you’re married to someone for five years, and you’ve known them for seven, you expect exactly zero surprises.
And if you do learn something new about them, you expect it to be something trivial, like they don’t actually like olives as much as they once said they did.
What you don’t expect to learn is that they’ve been addicted to benzodiazepines and stole drugs from their place of work. What you don't expect to learn is that the man you married, had two kids with, and shared a home with – a life with – is the type of man who could lie to your face for months.
Frank Langdon was an addict, and worse, a very good liar about it.
But it wasn’t the fact that he was a liar, exactly, that made her hate him. It was the fact that he’d lied to her.
It used to be them against the world. They faced everything together: med school and his residency, pregnancy and long, sleepless nights with sick babies, and potty training Tanner (and starting to try with Penny).
They were a team. But he hadn’t trusted her with this. He threw a Molotov cocktail into their lives and never even told her he’d bought matches.
She’d lie awake at night and wonder: If he could hide this massive, life-altering thing, what else was he hiding?
———
It could not have been a worse time for the heat in her car to stop working. Pittsburgh was dealing with its first cold snap of the season, and everything had iced over.
When Frank offered to drive her to work that morning, the act of kindness felt foreign.
In the first few months of his suspension, they had gotten into some really vicious fights. They’d drop the kids off at her parents' for the weekend, and then proceed to stomp around the house shouting at each other and slamming doors.
They’d dig up every terrible thing they’d been keeping inside and just scream it at each other.
When they realised that wasn’t working, they got a couples therapist. Then, after a few months of stilted conversations and missed appointments, they stopped seeing the couples therapist.
The idea of forgiveness felt so foreign and so far away that they both stopped seeking it out in each other.
But everyone said that the first year of sobriety was the hardest. Everyone warned against making any big changes or any big decisions within those first 365 days.
And so they didn’t.
Words like “separation” and “divorce” hung unsaid between them, looming like shadows from the corners of what once had been a happy life.
They had found a way to be civil to each other, but they weren’t always kind, so the offer to drive her to work felt like a shoe on the wrong foot.
His car was always messy. Not as messy as hers since her car was the designated “kid car,” but Frank’s car was always the messiest part about him (until the drug addiction, of course).
He was generally pretty tidy around the house, but his car was the one place where he let his mess expand.
An empty Redbull can rolled against her foot in the passenger seat foot well, and a protein bar wrapper crinkled underneath her thigh.
Both cup holders were already occupied by trash. Abby grabbed a clear plastic cup with a distinct, wide, neon straw and threw it into the backseat to make way for her travel mug.
“Since when do you drink boba?” She asked, a sharp edge poking through her question. He shrugged, pulling out of the parking spot.
“There’s a shop around the corner from the hospital.”
“I thought you hated the little tapioca balls.”
“It’s grown on me.” She arched an eyebrow at him.
It was simple enough, but something didn’t sit right with her. It almost made her angry to find out this new factoid about him.
She was very tired of learning new things about him. But she tried to ignore the anger that bubbled up in her chest.
“Does this mean you’ll actually try matcha next?” She had been trying to get him to switch from Redbull to matcha (her preferred way to consume caffeine) for years, but he always refused.
Frank laughed. “Absolutely not. It tastes like grass.”
Abby didn’t even try to hide the exasperated sigh that burst through her lips.
“Well, stranger things have happened.” She muttered and turned toward the window.
———
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Abby asked, bewildered when she had woken up feeling better rested than usual, but also 45 minutes behind her regular morning schedule.
Frank was at the kitchen counter pouring two bowls of cereal.
“I wanted to let you get a little more time to sleep. I got the kids ready and can drop them off at preschool today. I’m off from work.”
“Oh.”
It was a diversion from their normal schedule, but a good change. Frank hadn’t been able to help out as much with the kids since he’d returned to work, and Abby was still getting used to her new schedule of herding the kids and going to work ever since she had gotten a job while Frank was on suspension.
Penny and Tanner came tearing into the kitchen like the two adorable maniacs they were. They were both dressed appropriately for the weather in outfits that (mostly) matched. Abby eyed Frank’s work critically.
Even their hair was done. Tanner’s was brushed to the side (“like daddy’s!”), and Penny’s was in a long braid down her back. Abby furrowed her brow.
“I didn’t know you could braid hair.” Frank smiled brightly like a dog who was proud of a new trick.
“Daddy watched a YouTube video,” Penny said excitedly, “and then he had to watch it like three more times before he got it right,” she said with a giggle.
Frank went to give her a noogie, but then thought better of it, placing a hand on top of her head and smoothing her hair down instead.
“I’m an expert now, though, aren’t I, Pen?”
“Yes, but Mommy can do a fancy braid,” Penny responded, referring to the French braid Abby sometimes did for her if she was willing to sit still for long enough.
“Well, I’ll get there. I just need more practice.”
Abby felt the anger rising in her throat. Another new fact. Another surprise.
She knew it was an unfair reaction to have—he’d been trying to do something nice—but it didn’t change the fact that she hated him just a little for it.
“Well, isn’t daddy just full of surprises?” Abby replied, trying her best to keep her voice light.
She knew she missed the mark when Frank shot a glare at her from across the room. Abby turned back to the counter to whisk her matcha.
She could feel his eyes boring into her back, but she really didn’t care.
———
“I’m almost done with the popcorn,” Frank called out from the kitchen as the kids snuggled into their sleeping bags on the floor in the living room.
As much as Frank and Abby had fought and screamed at each other over the last 14 months, they could always unequivocally agree on one thing: Their kids were the most important thing in their lives.
So, these days, Frank and Abby focused on pouring all their energy into being the best parents they could be, which also meant being civil to each other in front of the kids and mostly silent to each other when they were alone. They had gotten pretty good at pretending to be a happy family.
We can both be good liars, Abby thought sardonically from her spot on the couch.
It was Frank’s idea to start a family movie night–well, he said he got the idea from someone at work.
But it was perhaps the first time in months that Abby had genuinely agreed with him. A family movie night was a good idea.
“Remember, it’s dad’s turn to pick the movie!” Frank said, handing out bowls of popcorn before he took up residence on his usual side on the couch on the opposite end from Abby.
“Remember to pick something kid-friendly,” she reminded pointedly, and he rolled his eyes, as if he hadn’t tried to make them watch Dumb and Dumber a few weeks ago.
“I know just the movie.” He toggled through the TV menu before hitting play.
“Elf?” Abby asked him, “You hate Christmas movies.” He shot her a look.
“Only the Hallmark ones.”
Abby bit her tongue because it’s family movie night and everyone is getting along, but she wants to fight him on this because it feels like she’s being gaslit.
This man had never not complained about watching a Christmas movie. The only Christmas movie he’s willing to watch is Die Hard, and she and Frank have already bickered about whether or not that even counts. (It doesn’t).
“It’s the first week of November,” she whined, knowing that after they watch this, the kids will demand they put up the Christmas tree and pull out all the decorations. He grins at her.
“It’s never too early to get into the Christmas spirit,” he said with a laugh, like it was the punchline to a joke he hadn’t told her.
———
Abby was trying her best not to freak out. Rule number one for any parent is not to freak out in front of your kids.
If you freak out, then they freak out. And then all hell breaks loose.
As soon as she tells the triage nurse that she’s Doctor Frank Langdon’s wife, she, Penny, and Tanner are shuffled right on through from chairs to one of the rooms in the ED.
“I’ll let Dr. Langdon know you’re here.” A nurse, someone she’s never met, assures her. Tanner is sitting quietly on the bed, trying his best to stay brave.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Abby coos at Tanner, shifting Penny in her lap from her left knee to her right. Tanner sniffles, eyes watering with unshed tears. It breaks her heart.
The bleeding has stopped, from what Abby can tell, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
She’s about to ask him if he’s okay (for the 100th time) when the door opens. She expected to see Frank, but instead, is met by a doctor with glasses and mousey blonde hair in a braid that falls neatly down her back.
She looks young for a doctor, and Abby hopes to God she didn’t just get stuck with an intern.
The woman grabs a pair of gloves from the box by the door and walks toward them, putting them on.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Mel King,” she says with a warm smile.
The name sounds vaguely familiar.
Frank has probably mentioned her before, but sometimes, it’s hard for her to keep track of who everyone is, especially without ever actually meeting them.
“Dr. Langdon…uh, Frank,” she corrects, eyes shifting to Abby, “is finishing up with a trauma, but should be here any minute. He asked me to get started with the exam.”
Her eyes bounce around the room a little nervously before landing back on her and she gives her a warm smile. “You must be Abby.”
She goes to extend her hand before remembering she’s already wearing gloves and curls her hand into a fist at her side. She gives her a friendly nod instead. It’s an awkward but almost endearing action.
“And you must be Penny!” She says excitedly before turning her full attention to Tanner. “Which must make you, Tanner. Your dad has told me so much about you guys.”
Abby holds back a snort. God, she hopes Frank doesn’t talk about her at work; she can’t imagine it’d be anything good.
“So, what brings you in here today?” She asks, pulling up a stool in front of Tanner and taking a seat.
“He slipped on some black ice and cut up his chin and hands.”
“Ouch,” Dr. King says, gently tilting his head back. “Did you bump your head?”
“No,” Tanner says quietly.
Dr. King gently taps on Tanner’s hands that are balled into fists, and he uncurls them so she can examine them closely.
Dr. King has a very calm demeanor that Abby appreciates.
Then, as if to juxtapose that fact, the door to the room bursts open, and both Tanner and Penny shout, “Daddy!” startling Dr. King to stand abruptly and turn toward the door.
Frank walks in, eyes finding Tanner on the bed immediately before darting over to Abby and then landing on Dr. King.
Noticing that everything was okay, Abby could see the tension drop from his shoulders just a bit. He took a deep breath and sighed it out before smiling.
“How’s it going in here?”
“Good.” Abby and Dr. King say at the same time, and Abby has the strangest urge to say, ‘Jinx, you owe me a Coke.’ Frank nods and crouches down in front of Tanner.
“Hey, Tan man, how ya doin’?”
“I’m okay.”
“Yeah,” Frank says absentmindedly, looking at his chin closely, “looks like you’ll pull through just fine.”
“Daddy!” Penny calls out again, reaching for him. He smiles and takes her from Abby, propping her on his hip.
“How’s my good luck girl?” Penny giggles, hiding her face in his neck. Abby looks on with a soft smile. It’s in moments like these that she can remember why she fell in love with Frank.
Then she remembers the whole drugs and lying thing, and the moment is ruined.
He turns to Dr. King.
“Thanks again, Mel,” he says with a smile, rocking Penny on his hip. Mel just smiles a little dazedly before shaking her head and straightening her spine.
“It should just be a couple of stitches,” she says, and he nods in agreement. “I’ll numb and suture his chin and then clean and bandage his hands. No head trauma. I can—“
“You don’t have to present the case to me, Mel,” he says kindly, taking the seat on the opposite side of Tanner, across from Abby.
“Don’t worry, buddy, you’ve got the best doctor in the whole hospital working on you.”
“Even better than you?”
“Even better than me.” But Mel is shaking her head as she’s preparing the suture wire.
“That’s not true,” she says with a huff, like it’s not up for discussion. Abby watches as Frank’s eyes soften at the compliment.
Dr. King, Mel, begins her work while all four of them look on.
After a few minutes, Tanner mumbles something and Mel pauses her ministrations.
“What was that?” She asks Tanner.
“I said you look like Jovie,” he says, louder this time. She raises her eyebrows before flicking her eyes to Frank and then Abby.
“Who’s Jovie?” She asks, concern flitting across her face.
“The elf!” Tanner says, and Frank barks out a laugh. Realization slowly dawns across Mel’s face, coloring her cheeks pink. She puffs out a surprised little laugh.
“Like from the movie?”
Tanner nods enthusiastically. “Have you seen it?”
Mel lets out a full laugh this time, like Tanner just told her a joke.
“I have. It’s my sister’s favorite movie. I’ve seen it almost 200 times.”
Abby can’t tell if she’s being hyperbolic or not, but Frank is still shaking with silent laughter, burying his face in Penny’s hair, poorly hiding his amusement.
“Well,” Abby begins, a wry smile twisting her lips, “if they get their way, they might be on track to outpace you before Christmas.”
“Yikes, I don’t think I’d wish that on anyone,” Mel says to Abby before picking up her tools again.
Frank’s eyes continue to be trained squarely on Mel and what she’s doing. If this makes Mel uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it.
She’s just finishing the stitches when Penny chimes in. “I like your braid,” she says quietly, breaking the silence. “Daddy does my hair like that sometimes.”
Mel freezes for a moment, processing the information before continuing to do the work at hand.
“Uh…thank you,” she says tentatively, eyes shifting to Frank, who silently stares at her for a moment before looking away sheepishly.
Abby can’t be sure, but she thinks he might be blushing.
Mel starts on Tanner’s hands, first cleaning them and then switching out the syringe for tweezers. Tanner flinches, and Mel stops, shoulders hunched, clearly upset that she had hurt him. Frank wraps a reassuring arm around Tanner.
“You’re doing great. Almost done,” he says reassuringly, “Dr. King’s an expert at this. She once picked out over 1,000 pieces of gravel from a man’s leg.”
Abby scrunches her nose. Gross.
“The hardest part is already over. Just a couple more minutes, then maybe mom will take you for ice cream.” Abby wrinkles her nose again. It’s too cold for ice cream.
“I want strawberry milk,” Tanner says, and Frank smiles.
“Sure, bud. We can find you some strawberry milk after this,” he says, glancing at Abby for confirmation.
“The boba place around the corner has strawberry milk,” Mel says without taking her eyes off her work. “They have chocolate milk, too.” Penny lets out a squeal of delight. Frank hums in agreement.
“You’re right, they do. Good call.” Mel tries to hide a small smile of satisfaction.
“I bet Robby would let you go for a quick break,” Mel offers, and Frank gives an indignant huff.
“Don’t know if I’d take that bet.” Mel furrows her brows, still focused squarely on Tanner’s hand.
“I think he would. It’s been so quiet today.” Frank flinches at the word ‘quiet’, and even Abby knows he’s superstitious about using that word.
“Never say the ‘Q’ word,” he reminds her, and she grumbles like they’ve been over this before and she has strong feelings against it.
“That’s not a real thing,” she says petulantly under her breath. When she turns her back to grab a piece of gauze, Abby tracks the small smile that tugs at Frank’s mouth.
Mel finishes up and scoots back from Tanner. “That should do it. You are a great patient!” She gives him a big smile, and Frank examines her handiwork, first looking at Tanner’s hands and then at the stitches under his chin.
“Nicely done, Mel.”
Abby watches a blush bloom up Mel’s neck and fights the urge to roll her eyes.
“I’ll just get the discharge paperwork and be back in a second,” she says, snapping off her gloves.
Frank’s eyes track Mel out of the room until the door closes behind her, and he turns back to Tanner.
“Great job, buddy!”
Abby knows that she shouldn’t say anything right now. She should hold her tongue. She can already feel that this is going to be another fight. This is absolutely going to be another fight.
She wonders idly if her parents are available to babysit this weekend.
“You two seem to get along,” she observes. Frank looks up from Tanner and then to the empty stool Mel just vacated.
“Yeah, we end up on a lot of cases together. So we’ve gotten into a good rhythm.”
If this were four years ago, she would have said something baiting like “she’s pretty,” but Abby is older now and slightly more mature, so instead she says something a little more mundane but with a similar implication: “she seems really sweet.”
Either Frank is oblivious to what she’s trying to imply, or he’s not taking the bait.
He nods in honest agreement. “She’s got a really great heart.”
Abby’s stomach drops. The way he says it, the fondness in his voice making the words soft around the edges, makes her chest hurt. She swallows her retort along with the lump in her throat.
They wait in silence for Mel to return.
She comes back into the room holding a roll of stickers.
“Only our very best patients get these,” she says with a smile, holding out her finger with a sticker on it for Tanner to take, and then one for Penny.
She hands the rest of the roll over to Frank. “Dana said to take the rest home. Apparently, they’ve become ‘a distraction.’”
He takes them from her, and Abby watches their hands closely as they brush against each other for the briefest of moments.
“Is that why Whittaker had like ten of these on his back?” Mel laughs.
“Strawberry milk time!” Tanner shouts, jumping down from the bed.
“Also,” Mel begins, “Robby agreed that you could take ten and go with them. I’ll cover your patients.” Frank lets out a deep sigh of relief—Abby knows that things are still strained with Robby, and he’s probably thankful he doesn’t have to talk to him about this.
She wonders if Mel knows this, and that’s why she asked Robby for him. Probably.
“Thanks,” he says with a smile, peeling a sticker off the roll and placing it on Mel’s scrub top, right above her heart.
It’s a cartoon rocket ship with the words “you’re out of this world!” above it.
Mel looks down at it, and the tips of her ears tinge pink. She looks back up at Abby and extends her hand to her.
“It was very nice meeting you,” she says, giving it a firmer shake than Abby would have thought.
Their eyes connect, and Abby crumples just a little more inside. Mel does seem sweet. She does seem like she has a good heart.
This would be easier if she seemed more like the type of woman to steal your husband. Abby swallows.
“You too.”
“Strawberry milk!” Tanner demands again.
“Alright, alright, say thank you to Dr. King,” Frank says, ruffling Tanner’s hair.
“Thanks, Dr. King,” he parrots as they all shuffle out the door.
“Hey,” Frank says, turning to Mel on the way out, “where’s your boba punch card? I can get you to your free boba with this trip.”
“I actually just redeemed it yesterday,” Mel responds. “But thanks for the offer.”
When they go to the infamous boba place, Abby almost wishes she were surprised, but she’s not when Frank orders an extra boba tea to take back to Mel.
It’s ube flavor, which sounds like a flavor you order for someone only if you know it’s their favorite. “As a thank you,” he says to her with a shrug while tapping his phone to pay.
Abby took a sip of her matcha and held her tongue.
He helps her get the kids situated in the car, giving them each forehead kisses before saying a brief goodbye to her.
Abby watches him head back to the hospital with his-and-hers boba in hand and a new punch card that is already halfway to getting Mel King her next free boba.
They’ll get into a fight about this all later, and when they do, Frank will shake his head and vehemently deny anything is going on.
“It’s not like that, Abby. God, it’s Mel.” He says with a kind of reverence.
He says it as if he couldn’t believe that Mel would do that to them. Like he has more faith in her moral compass than he has in his own. And honestly, he probably should.
“She’s, she’s…” he swallows, licking his lips, “it’s not like that.”
Abby takes a deep breath and repeats to herself what she already knows to be true.
Frank Langdon is a good liar.
And Abby also remembers what she had learned about him all those months ago when he came home with his head in his hands, violently vacillating between sobbing and raging, begging her to believe him that Robby was overacting, that he didn’t have an addiction, and that everything was going to be okay:
Frank Langdon is a good liar, but he was the very best at lying to himself.