Frank is divorced with a kid..He meets a girl called libby and marry's her to help her keep her family..will it ever work out??..
As far as Libby could tell, New jersey sucked.
She’d moved Rachel and Chris there two months ago, and she was already starting to wonder if they hadn’t been better off in New York. Chris was being picked on at school, and Rach had been in two fights.
She didn’t worry nearly as much about Rachel as she did Christina. Chrissy had never developed the killer instinct she was going to need in order to survive. Rachel had.
Libby was fairly certain that she herself had been born with it.
Thank Christ, because being a guardian to two teenage girls wasn’t easy. She was twenty four years old. Rachel was seventeen, and Chris had just turned sixteen.
She'd won custody of the girls when she was nineteen years old, and even though she was often overwhelmed – she never regretted getting them out of the foster home they'd been in. She’d grown up there, and the year she’d had to leave the girls there was easily the worst of her life.
Libby put her thoughts on hold while she negotiated the icy drive up to four-eleven Lincoln street. She didn’t have a license, and the car was a real piece of shit. She was going on an interview for a housekeeping job at a private residence. The hours coincided with her other jobs, and if Libby knew anything – she knew how to scrub a floor.
And she really, really needed this job. She had the girls living in a dump, they needed new clothes, and if she didn’t pay the utility bill soon – they weren’t going to have heat, either.
Why the hell had she promised Chris she wouldn’t dance anymore?
The money had been a lot better at Exotics, she’d never had to take her clothes off (that was where she drew the line) and she wasn’t expected to put up with any bullshit from the customers.
But some of Chrissy’s friends had found out, and they’d called her a slut. Libby didn’t personally give a rat’s ass, but Chris had been crushed.
Well – if things didn’t get better soon, she was going to have to find a better way to make money. She’d been denied her high school diploma thanks to a teacher that hated her guts. How he’d justified flunking her out senior year was anybody’s guess. She hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out. Libby had turned eighteen a month before she was supposed to graduate, and when she found out she wasn’t getting a diploma – she simply walked. Walked away from high school, and walked away from her foster “parents," although she’d never in a million years think of those assholes as parents.
She still regretted not fighting that teacher, though.
Libby was shivering by the time she reached the place on Lincoln Drive. She could see why they needed a housekeeper – the place was huge.
Libby left an hour and a half later. She’d gotten the job on a trial basis, although she could tell the head housekeeper, or whatever she was, was skeptical. Lulu Gonzales had looked down her nose at Libby throughout the entire interview.
She probably knew white trash when she saw it.
Still, she intended to keep the job. And if she had to work her freaking fingers to the bone, Rachel was going to the University of Califronia, and Chris was going to Juilliard.
One week later.
“Yo, Lulu Schmulu. What’s up?”
Lulu rolled her eyes at her employer, Frank Iero.
“Nada, Mister Iero,” she replied calmly, knowing he hated it when she called him that.
“How’s the new girl working out? I haven’t even seen her.”
“I'm surprised, but she is very good. Works hard and stays out of the way.”
Frank bit back a scathing remark, and they both knew it.
“Why’s it surprise you?” he asked curiously, hoping to win some points with Jade's favorite babysitter.
“She's very pretty. Why she works cleaning toilets, I don’t know.”
“She’s cute, huh? Might have to check that out.”
He turned his back on her ferocious scowl and sauntered out of the room.
Libby was dead tired on Friday night. She only got to go home long enough to scarf down a sandwich and shower before she was due to direct V.I.P. traffic at the Coliseum.
She hated dealing with the VIP’s and the limo drivers, but it wasn’t such a hard job. She worked at the Coliseum four nights a month and brought home an extra six hundred dollars plus tips.
She couldn’t afford to say no.
“Goddamn, Frank – you gotta see this,” Eddie said from the front seat.
“What’s that, man?”
“This fuckin’ woman working the lot. Goddamn.”
Frank snorted and sat up straighter in his seat. He was amused to see his wasn’t the only limo stalling to get a better look.
She was average height – around 5’4 or 5’5, and she did have a knockout body. Her features weren’t all that distinguishable from a distance, but he could see that she had black hair. If not beautiful, she was definitely pretty. They were too far away to make the distinction.
“Smart woman,” Eddie remarked.
“How d’you know that?” Frank questioned.
“Body like that? She probably cleans up on tips.”
“Yeah. Makes sense. I didn’t know they took tips in VIP, though.”
“They do at the Coliseum. It isn’t expected, and any of the valets would get fired for hinting around, but they wouldn’t risk forbidding it. They do that, and some high roller ends up bein’ embarrassed if a tip turned down.”
Frank had no interest in the etiquette of being filthy rich. If someone gave him good service, he gave them a good tip. End of story.
The line of cars crept along, and Frank was getting irritated. It looked to him like every other fucking limo was trying to talk to the bitch up front.
When it was finally their turn, the woman approached the car and waited while Eddie lowered the window. She didn’t once peek to see who was in the back, and Frank begrudgingly gave her points for professionalism.
And she was beautiful up close.
“I’m sorry for the delay. If you’ll drive to the end of the orange line there, and then turn left, we’ll get you parked right away.”
“Seems to me the line would’ve moved faster if they all wasn’t tryin’ to get a look at you,” Frank sniped.
“So I’m told,” she said tiredly.
Something about her tone made him pursue it. “They said somethin’ to you?”
“They fired me.”
“Damn, that’s cold,” Eddie remarked, and he and Fank laughed.
She didn’t. All she said was, “It will be,” under her breath, as she walked away from them and onto the next car.
“Damn. Guess maybe she needed the job, huh?” Eddie said.
Frank was staring after her. He’d seen the way she walked – heard the defeat in her voice, and he couldn’t help but empathize. He knew what it was like to be dead on your feet, feeling like you’d never get a break.
He jumped out of the car and left Eddie to thrash around in his seat belt, trying to get loose of the thing. Technically, he was supposed to be security tonight as well as driver, and he wasn’t supposed to let Frank out of his immediate sight.
Too damn bad.
Frank caught up with her right after she finished directing her next limo. “Hey! Wait up a sec’!” he yelled.
She swung around and faced him. “Sir?”
“Look. We didn’t mean to laugh at you like that. Here.”
He handed her a couple of hundreds. Frank rarely gave tips like that. She accepted the money hesitantly, gave him a tight smile and thanked him.
It was then that he noticed her eyes. They were a dark, grass green, and he could’ve sworn he saw the humiliation in them. Now he really felt bad for her, and that wasn’t something he was used to either. He wished he’d given her more than a couple hundred lousy bucks.
He watched as she moved on to the next car, and he finally turned away and headed back to the limo where Eddie was waiting with the door open. The line was moving forward much faster, and he was holding up traffic.
Christ, what was it with people? Libby couldn’t believe that asshole Dan had fired her. She hadn’t done a damn thing wrong, but he said she’d slowed down traffic. Then he’d offered her a more “comfortable” position in the office.
Libby had said no, and now she was out another thousand dollars a month.
She was hard pressed not to beat the shit out of the little weasel. She was trying to control her temper these days, and not doing a very good job of it, to say the least. She did, however, give herself credit for not planting a fist in his face. It was progress.
And then the fucking car shit the bed.
It was raining, cold as hell, and she was going to have to walk home at 2:00 in the morning, because there was no way she was paying for a cab ride.
She was shivering so hard she almost didn’t hear the car approach over the chattering of her teeth. The window rolled down, and she saw right away who it was. Frank Iero – or, to her anyway, the man who’d saved their asses from freezing this week. She really needed to pay that damned utility bill....
“Damn, woman. Didn’t I give you some cash?” he said pointedly.
“You think I’m gonna spend that on a ride after I just got fired?” she shot back through stiff, blue lips.
At first he looked surprised, and then he just scowled. “Get in the damned car. You’re freezing.”
She almost dove head first, but before she could do that, she had to ask him one thing. “You’ll take me home, that’s it?”
“Yeah. Why? Was there something else you wanted?”
“Then get the hell in here.”
He could see the relief on her face, and wondered how many assholes had offered to bring her in from the cold for a fuck.
She jumped in, and Frank threw his jacket at her. She looked at it longingly, but shook her head no. “I’ll ruin it.”
“I got three more where it came from, take it.”
Eddie asked her for her address, and she rattled off a street located in the seediest section of town.
“Christ,” Frank muttered. “What are you doin’ living there?”
She shrugged and simply answered, “Wanna send the girls to college.”
He could tell she was exhausted; her words were slurred like a drunk. “You got kids?” he asked softly.
She shook her head no, then yes. Closed her eyes and tried to speak clearly.
“Mmmm.... legal guardian. Two girls, sixteen and seventeen.”
“Yeah? How’d that happen?”
“I couldn’t leave them in that shithole where I grew up.”
“Foster home. New York City.”
“You’re orphans?” he said, stunned.
“So you just took ‘em?”
“I had to go to court and testify...”
She was swaying slightly, and he had a wild urge to snatch her up in his arms and hold her. He didn’t, though.
“Foster parents used to beat the shit outta me. Locked me in the basement for a week once.”
FRank and Eddie had both gone bug eyed, but she’d passed out and was completely oblivious.
He left her alone until they pulled up in front of the warehouse she apparently lived in. There were two cop cars out front, and even though he didn’t want to – Frank woke her up.
She completely freaked, jumped out of the car and all but slammed through the front door, screaming.
FRank followed her.
Two girls came flying, and all three of them ended up in a pile on the floor. One of them was crying, and saying “Libby,” over and over. He surmised that was his exhausted passenger’s name.
She was wide awake now, and grabbed the girl’s hair to pull her back and look at her with a critical eye. “What’s going on? Why’re the fuckin’ cops here?”
“I’m s-sorry L-Libby,” the blonde girl she’d called Chris stammered.
“What? What happened?”
Chris froze like an animal in the path of an oncoming car. It was the dark haired girl, Rachel, that finally spoke up. “Some guy gave her a ride home from practice. He got all touchy feely and then didn't like it when she said no.”
Libby was on her feet in an instant, practically holding Chris up with her hands under the girl’s armpits. “What?” she demanded.
“I – I got away from him.”
“Did he hurt you? I’ll fucking kill him!”
This got the cops attention, and they separated Libby from Chris, which didn’t go over well with either one of them.
It was the least of their problems. The Department of Social Services showed up next, and because the heat was out, and the place was a dump, they were prepared to take the girls away from Libby.
She went nuclear.
He was able to gather that Libby actually had several thousand dollars in the bank, but it was set aside for college. Apparently the younger girl was hoping to get accepted to Juilliard. They were all willing to live without new clothes, and occasionally heat, if it meant her realizing her dream. Hers as well as the other girl, who wanted to go to the University of California and then to law school.
Libby whipped out several straight A report cards, but Social Services wasn’t going for it. She either had to move them someplace better within twenty four hours or relinquish custody.
Frank's own mother had never once sacrificed anything to help him, untill he made it famous in a band. He was in absolute awe that this woman was working herself into the ground to not only support these two girls, but to send them to college as well. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to.
“Excuse me. I’m Frank Iero, you know, from the band My Chemical Romance? They can come live in my house for as long as they need. I can’t believe you fuckin’ people would take them away from her- at least she cares about them. Shit, I lived in places as bad as this with my mother, and no one ever came and got me.”
They all turned to stare at him.
“What? I got a big enough house.”
“We couldn’t just pick up and...” Libby stammered.
“Absolutely not. It wouldn’t be appropriate,” the bitch from DSS sniped, pointedly looking down at both Libby and Frank.
“Yeah? So me and Libby will get married,” he shot back at the same time he gave Libby a warning look. “And then you can’t do shit about it. They’ll be outta college by the time we’re done in court,” he announced smugly.
The woman was clearly stunned, as she knew he was right. “You’re going to marry LIbby Phoenix?”
Well, he hadn’t known her whole name until that moment, and for some reason – he wasn’t the least bit hesitant when he answered. “Yeah. And you can’t do shit about it.”
The woman burst out laughing. She sounded like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. He ought to know, he’d watched it enough times with Jade.
“Well. It’ll be a match made in heaven, then, won’t it? She’s probably got more priors than you do!”
He looked at Libby with raised eyebrows, and the woman gleefully filled him in.
“Oh, yes. She’s been brought up on assault charges so many times the 5th precinct cops in New York know her by name.”
“Those weren’t all her fault! I hate you people!” Rachel screamed. “Every time it’s going okay someone has to come along and mess with us. We want to stay with Libby, you bitch. Can’t you get that? She was always there for us when we were in foster care! She came and got us, just like she said she would. Do you know how hard she works just to take care of us? Do you stupid assed people even care about that?”
“Rachel, it’s okay. I’m not gonna let ‘em take you,” Libby said in a low tone, trying to calm the girl down, but she was on a roll.
“No. You probably don’t! Well, where the hell were you when she needed you, huh? No one ever cared when Mr. Michaels was beating the shit out of her, or…”
Chris started crying again and Libby caught her before she collapsed to the floor. “Rachel! Damn it! That’s enough!” Libby yelled.
“No it’s not, Libby! It’ll never be enough! Where were they? That’s what I want to know. Who protected you? No one. I know you’re only twenty-four, Libby, but you’re the only mom I’ve ever had- and I’m not going anywhere.”
Rachel was now crying, and Libby turned murderous eyes on the woman from DSS. “I hope you feel good. I’ve seen Rachel cry twice since she was ten years old.”
The woman did, at least, have the decency to look contrite.
Frank moved in for the kill. “Libby, we need to get you all packed. We have a wedding to arrange.”
Twenty-four hours ago if someone had told him those words would be coming out of his mouth – he would have pissed himself laughing.
Today he was dead serious.