Bridget woke up alone in bed and to a yummy smell coming from the kitchen. Sitting up, and stretching her arms, she shifted to the side of her bed and checked her phone for the time. She walked over to the closet, and popped on an oversized dark blue t-shirt and a pair of underwear on, then walked downstairs. Franky was near the stove, chopping up green peppers, onions and tomatoes. There was bacon on one of the elements, and the egg on the other, which explained the extravagant smell.
“Hey baby,” She said, walking to the fridge, and pouring herself a glass of orange juice. She saw Franky jump in the corner of her eye, “Did I scare you?”
“No,” She said clearing her throat and walking over to Bridget, placing a kiss on her cheek. “You really got me going last night,” She said, walking back to the stove, but turning back towards Bridget, to once again, kiss her. “Fuck Gidget,” She growled, kissing her again. Her hands venturing up the blonde’s shirt.
“We should stop,” Bridget suggested, biting her lip, and pulling away from Franky.
“Come on Gidge,” Franky said as she walked back over and leaned in to kiss her, Bridget dodging her, looking down.
“Not now, save it for later,” Bridget swallowed heavily, and stormed off. “I’m going to get dressed.” She said, walking up the stairs heading back to the bedroom.
Franky sighed, as she watched the blonde’s legs disappear from the staircase. Returning to her omelet, which was now burnt and wasted, she threw it out. The bacon was over cooked, but still edible. And the vegetables, still raw and uncooked. So she threw them all into a bowl, along with the bacon.
‘Yum,’ Franky thought to herself, rolling her eyes. She plopped herself in front of the tv, and browsed through the channels. Impatiently waiting for Bridget to come back.
Five, ten, fifteen minutes had passed, “Gidge?” She called out, setting the remote on their ashy grey couch. The brunette anxiously shuffled up the stairs, walking down to the farthest room, where she found Bridget lying on the bed, sound asleep.
Franky smiled, as she looked at Bridget, comfortably asleep, at peace and quiet. She planted a kiss on her cheek, and carefully and quietly, snook under the blankets, to cuddle her sleeping beauty. She observed Bridget’s features, studying them, appreciating them. Like how her nose twitched as she dreamed, and how she shifted and moved a lot in her sleep, leaving Franky with a few elbows to her face per night. And how every few minutes, she would start to snore, or how she only slept on her left side when she had a good day. Despite their little argument, Bridget was in fact sleeping on her left side, which relieved Franky of the guilt she had for pushing her into something she didn’t want. She watched as her girlfriend fell deeper and deeper into her sleep, her breathing slowing down.
She eventually drifted off to sleep.
The dream she had felt real, “And do you Francesca Doyle, take Bridget Westfall, to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, f-for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?” The priest with no name asked, an awkward grin on his square face. Bridget was looking deeply into Franky’s eyes, her smile running from one side of her face to the other, tears building up in her eyes. She was overwhelmed with happiness, almost jumping up and down, out of excitement.
“I do,” Franky replied, her eyes fogging up, a rush of joy pumping through her veins.
“Then you may kiss the bride.” He spoke again.
They pulled each other into a long, powerful, kiss, tears running down both of their faces as their teeth and tongues clashed, taking turns smiling as they locked lips. A loud roar of hands clapping in the background of their magical moment. And suddenly, the roar was gone, all that was left were the two of them in a void of silence, feeling so happy they could die.
Franky pulled apart from Bridget, and looked around, finding Vera, Maxine, Allie, Boomer, Liz, Doreen, and even Bea, who were all clapping, smiling and cheering for the two of them. Franky’s dad was there too, along with her little sister. She turned back around to see Bridget smiling at her, love in her eyes, dressed in a mermaid-like wedding gown, with flowers in her hair.
That was the end of her dream.
She woke up, lying on her stomach, drool on the pillow. No one next to her.
‘Ah fuck, I really hope Gidget didn’t see me like this, gross.’ Franky thought to herself, sitting up and wiping the drool off her face.
“Gidge?” She yelled, making sure Bridget would hear.
‘Oh well,’ She gazed over at the nightstand, a pink note lay upon it.
“Went grocery shopping, be back soon,” Franky read aloud, a grin on her face.
She loved Bridget for many reasons, one of them being her cute notes she wrote whenever she left Franky alone. Not a text, not an email, a note. Which made Franky smile every, single, time.
She got off of the bed and retrieved a small wooden box from under it, which contained every note Bridget had written her. Five notes, including the one she found the night before. They weren’t all pink either, two of them were red, and another yellow.
Franky wrote the date on the back of the note, and put it back in the box, closed the lid and slid it under the bed, just waiting to be opened again.
Her mind wandered off, thinking about her strange but sweet dream. The perfect outdoor wedding, stunning Bridget, her dad and little sister, her friends from Wentworth. It was all too perfect, well except for Bridget of course, the dream was accurate in that field. Franky began to imagine the after-party of the wedding, the cake, the dancing, the laughter, Bridget’s big blue eyes.
‘What would she say? What would happen if she bloody said no? Is she ready? Am I ready?’ She asked herself, the questions left bouncing around in Franky’s brain.
Lost in the train of thought, she hadn’t heard Bridget open the door, or the loud slam that followed. It wasn’t until Bridget called out for Franky that she had heard her.
“Franky! I’m home! You awake baby?” She hollered, as she set her groceries on the counter.
Franky rushed downstairs, with a smile on her face.
“Hi sleepyhead,” Bridget said, walking over towards the staircase, and giving Franky a kiss on the cheek.
“Nuh-uh,” She pointed to her lips. “Here.” Bridget laughed, as Franky pulled her into another kiss.
“Soo, what were you up to while I was gone? You got my note?”
“Yep, and uh, ya know, sleep.” She said rubbing her eye. “Dreamed of ya, though, us. I mean.” Franky grinned and looked at Bridget, who was raising an eyebrow, with a sly grin on her face.
“Gidge! You dirty- no, it wasn’t a sex dream!” She exclaimed, laughing.
“Awh, too bad,” She moved in closer towards Franky and continued, “Would have been fun to hear, what that dirty mind of yours could come up with.” Bridget teased, placing a kiss on Franky’s nose standing on the tips of her toes to do so.
“My dirty mind? You’re the one who wanted to fuck in a public bathroom two months ago.” Franky snapped.
Bridget scoffed, “Number one, I was horny as hell, and number two, you looked smokin’ hot in those jeans, ya can’t blame me!” She snapped back, her arms in the air. Franky now stood leaning on the counter, arms crossed, with a dazed smile on her face. “What?” Bridget asked, as she put away the rest of the groceries.
“I did look hot in those jeans. Do ya reckon I should wear those tonight?” She asked, licking her lips.
“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind.” Bridget replied, grinning. “But, you know how’d you look better though?” Bridget asked, walking over towards Franky, placing her hands on her hips.
“How? She asked, already knowing the answer, a wide grin on her face.
“Without any on.”
Franky laughed, Bridget was satisfied with her joke until now.
“Gidge, sorry to burst ya fucking bubble but, that was predictable.” She said, in a soft tone, turning around.
“Oh was it now?” Bridget replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Yep.” Franky mumbled back.
The blonde scoffed, “Wine?”
Bridget ran back to the kitchen, opened a bottle of Shiraz, and poured wine into two glasses.
“There you are madam,” She chirped, handing one of the glasses of wine to Franky.
“Thank you madam,” Franky chirped back, smiling.
They smiled at each other, Bridget leaning in to rest her head on Franky’s shoulder.
“Thanks,” Franky said, grabbing ahold of Bridget’s hand.
“You already thanked me?” Bridget asked, confused. “Or?”
“No, I meant, for everything you’ve done for me Gidge.”
Bridget chuckled, “Well...”
“Seriously, thank you,” Franky said, grinning.
“Well, Franky Doyle, thank you for you too.” She said, squeezing Franky in her arms. “Thank, you.” Bridget finished, backing away from Franky to turn on a song.
“Oh fun, time for more old lezzo music!” Franky teased.
“Would you stop calling it that?” Bridget asked, giggling.
“Fine,” Bridget replied, smile on her face.
“May I have this dance?” The brunette asked, reaching her hand out for Bridget.
“Mm, I love you,” Bridget giggled, “Of course.”
“I love ya even more Gidget,”
They slow-danced, sipping wine, listening to dozens of songs, dancing ‘til their feet became numb.
A knock at the door interrupting them, startling Bridget, her head jerking up off of Franky’s shoulder, eyes widening. “Oh fuck! I forgot about tonight, I had plans with Vera. I’m sorry Franky.”
“No no no, don’t apologize. Just answer the door,” Franky said, smiling, hands on the sides of Bridget’s face.
“All right,” She nodded, walking over to the front door.
“Bridget! Its uhm, it’s me Vera!” She yelled, as Bridget opened the door.
“Hi! I’m so sorry, the place is a mess, I forgot you were coming. But come in,” Bridget said with an awkward smile planted on her face.
“I can come back,”
“No, come in,”
“Okay,” Vera replied walking in.
Franky was returning the glasses to the kitchen when her and Vera locked eyes.
“Hey! Miss Bennett!” Franky yelled, nearly dropping the wine glasses. “How’s governor working out for ya? The girls behaving? Haven’t seen you in months!”
Vera smiled, “Hello Doyle, or uhm… Franky,” She scratched her head. “I never really know what to call you, now that you’re out, and free.” Vera said, taking off her coat and handing it to Bridget.
“Franky, Doyle, whatever works best for ya, Vera.’” Franky chirped, smiling as Vera walked deeper into their home.
“Okay, Franky.” She giggled.
Her eyes moved to Bridget, who was giving her a look, ‘Be, nice.’ she mouthed. ‘What? I am!’ The brunette responded, enthusiastically moving her eyebrows.
“Did I miss something?” Vera asked, turning around to face Bridget.
“Oh no,” Franky replied. “So? The girls okay?” She continued, clearing her throat.
“Yeah, uhm, they’re doing great,” Vera said, looking around.
“No details?” Franky said, mouth wide open.
“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing you aren’t already aware of, since you went to visit Novak last week.”
“Wait, you did? How come you didn’t tell me?” Bridget asked, jealousy in her voice.
“There was nothing to tell, it was a quick visit,”
“Would you like some wine?” Bridget asked, breaking the long awkward silence.
“You read my mind,” Vera said, clearing her throat and sitting down on one of the dining room chairs.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,”
“Do ya like Shiraz?” Bridget asked, walking over to the kitchen, Franky following behind her.
“Actually, no. Do you have Merlot?”
“Yep,” Bridget said, finding the bottle of Merlot next to numerous other types and bottles of alcohol, and pouring Vera a glass. Then pouring herself a glass of Shiraz, while Franky poured herself a shot of whiskey.
“Music anyone?” Franky asked, as she walked over to the speakers.
“That would be nice, Franky.” Vera said, taking a sip of her wine. “So how is everything? You two alright? Now that parole is over for you.” She asked, awkwardly smiling.
“Fine.” Franky replied, looking at Bridget, who was nodding.
“How about you Vera?” Bridget asked, joining Vera around the table. “The staff at Wentworth all right?” Bridget continued, stopping to drink some of her wine. “The new psychologist as good as me?” She teased, making the three of them laugh. Franky felt a sudden lift of weight on her shoulders when Bridget smiled at her, and she smiled back.
“Funny you ask actually,” Vera said, once they stopped laughing. “He actually was having, inappropriate relations, with a-uhm, prisoner. So I had to fire him.” Vera said as Franky walked by her and took a seat.
Franky poked Bridget, “Ha! Are all shrinks like this, Gidge?” Franky exclaimed, letting out another laugh.
“Transference, Franky. Told you.” Bridget said, smiling and shaking her head.
“Well damn,” Franky replied, leaning back into her seat. “Who was it?” She continued.
“Things like those are confidential,” Bridget told Franky, losing her smile.
“Awh, come on Vera!” Franky crowed, raising her voice.
“Oh, no one you know,” Vera said, swirling her wine around in her glass.
“So much for that bottle!” Bridget joked, breaking the silence and pouring the last drop of wine into her glass.
“Ya bloody finished that fast, Gidget.” Franky Hooted, smiling.
“Look at us, alcoholics!” The blonde gested, as Franky started to laugh.
“Seconds!” Vera chanted, raising her glass.
“I second that!” Franky said, raising her shot glass.
“Fine,” Bridget agreed, rolling her eyes and raising her glass. “Cheers!” She finished as they clinked their empty glasses together.
Vera, Bridget and Franky had been drinking since five and were now completely wasted. Vera was babbling about her phase of screwing around with girls in college.
“I didn’t know what to do, she was l-lying there, naked, and she was asking me to...” Vera cleared her throat.
“Someone’s a little tipsy,” Bridget said laughing, her and Franky helping very drunk Vera up from her chair.
“A little? She’s bloody pissed.” Franky laughed.
“Okay, sleepytime,” Bridget said, pushing Vera up the stairs.
“She was attractive, i just didn’t want to you know,” Franky and Bridget could barely hold it in as they followed Vera up the stairs.
“Shh, shh, we’ll talk about this in the morning, yeah? When you aren’t pissed.” Bridget interrupted.
They got to the guest bedroom, and Vera sat down on the bed. “Uh, I don’t feel so good.” Vera admitted, taking her shirt off.
“Do you want a rubbish bin, just in case?” Bridget asked, turning around to give Vera some privacy, Franky doing the same.
Vera nodded, “Yeah.” She said, taking off her pants, then snuggling under the covers.
“Goodnight,” Vera mumbled, just as a loud yawn broke out of her mouth.
“Okay, so no bucket then.” Bridget joked, following Franky out of the room, and closing the door behind them.
Franky reached out for Bridget’s hand, interlocking their fingers as they walked drunkenly down the hall. They got to the top of the stairs, and sat there for a while, Franky’s head resting on Bridget’s shoulder.
“Sorry about tonight,” Bridget said, planting a kiss on Franky’s forehead. “You were being nice to Vera. I just- I don’t know, and the whole Allie thing, I overreacted. I know there wasn’t anything between you two. It was fair you didn’t tell me.” Bridget confessed slurring her words and looking down to the bottom of the stairs, fiddling with her fingers.
“No, you don’t have to apologize, I should have told you about my visit, it was my fault. Honestly, the only thing that bothered me was when you didn’t want to go bumper to bumper, this morning.”
“Pfhh, stop using that term,” Bridget cackled softly.
“What? Bumper to bumper? Okay, then, the only thing that bothered me was when you didn’t want to fuck, this morning.” Franky laughed.
Bridget rolled her eyes, “Franky,”
“Why is it that you’re so serious even when you’re pissed?” She grunted, cocking her head.
“Only when I drink Tequila, you know that.” Bridget whispered, leaning in to kiss Franky. “Let’s go to bed,” The blonde said, standing up, and walking over to the bathroom, Franky following closely behind her.
“But ya didn’t have Tequila!”
“Oh, right.” Bridget laughed.
Franky brushed her teeth as Bridget turned on the shower, taking off her shirt.
“Oh, so, so much for sleep then huh?” Franky snickered.
“So much for sleep.”