Taking on Frankie

I never really saw myself being a mum. That was until motherhood was forced upon me at the blink of an eye when I received the call from the police that afternoon.

“Ginny Riley?”

“Yes?”

“We have Frankie here with us. It looks like her parents have left her and ran for the hills. Your name and number was left in her pocket. It says you’re her aunt, is that correct?”

I wasn’t exactly close with my sister. She didn’t make the best choices for herself, but I can’t say I had my life sorted out either. I went on countless first dates but barely any second dates. I may have had one too many glasses of wine before bed on a number of occasions. I had a few speeding tickets on the fridge that I hadn’t gotten around to paying yet. But I only ever had myself to worry about. My sister never took responsibility for her own actions, and then she fell pregnant. I know she loved Frankie, but she was too selfish to fix up her life to make room for a child.

Having said that, I was not expecting that call. Frankie was four, and I hadn’t exactly built the greatest relationship with her as an aunty. I did know that her favourite colour was red, and she hated wearing big clips in her hair. She was a happy child, but as much as I knew that my sister loved Frankie, I could see that she felt like Frankie was holding her back from having the freedom to do whatever she wanted. She hated having responsibilities – yet I never thought she would leave her own daughter at a petting zoo so that she could run away with the saddest excuse for a man. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

I didn’t really have time to think through what to do. All I knew was that my niece was with the police, and her mother was not coming back to collect her any time soon. There was no way I was going to wave her off to some foster family who would most-likely just be in it for the money. That’s no better than Frankie’s own mother. I was going to take her in. I wasn’t sure how, but I had to make it work. I cleaned the study of my tiny apartment above the kebab shop where I worked. I went out and bought red bed sheets and made sure there was food in the house. I went for a snoop around K-Mart for some kids’ books and movies. I did everything I could to make my small home kid-friendly.

***

 “I don’t like chicken,” Frankie said to me the first night we sat down at my little, square dining table to eat dinner. I had made chicken fingers with dipping sauce because I wasn’t sure what she would eat. I was positive that everyone liked chicken, little kids especially.

“You don't? Well that's okay sweetie, what else would you like?” I asked, trying to hide my dispiritedness. So far, the night hadn't been going well and I was slowly losing piece of mind.

“I’m not hungry… when is my mum coming back? Why did I have to come here?” Frankie was on the verge of crying… again. My mouth was dry, and I could feel my insides caving in. Nothing about this was working. It hadn’t even been 12 hours yet and I was freaking out. It was my job to tell Frankie that her mother wasn’t coming back.

“She’ll be back very soon!” I panicked and lied. I lied to a four-year-old girl who had just been abandoned by her own mother.

           Frankie just stared at me for a moment before her eyes filled with tears.

“When? Why did she leave me there?” I jumped out of my chair and ran to her, picking her up and embracing her in my arms. To my surprise she hugged me back and for a moment, I just let her sob. I didn’t know what to say. What do you say? “Listen kid, your mum doesn’t want you anymore, so she gave you to me.” My heart was breaking for Frankie, and I was quickly realising that I had gotten myself into a gigantic mess. It wasn’t as easy as shopping through K-Mart for kids’ toys. I stared down at Frankie’s plate of uneaten chicken fingers and contemplated whether I could do this or not.

“I tell you what? You’ve had a big day, why don’t we go put your pyjamas on, and I’ll read you a bedtime story?”

           I tucked Frankie into her tiny mattress on the floor in the study and sighed at myself. What kind of bed was that? What was I thinking? But she looked fine with it. Then I remembered that she’s slept in worse places having been raised by my mess of a sister. She’s probably slept on the beer stained couch of one of her mother’s ludicrous boyfriends’ more than once. For a single moment, I remembered why Frankie was here – and it was a much safer place for her.

“Everything is going to be alright. You’re just having a little visit with Aunty Ginny!” I smiled, wiping Frankie’s tear-stained cheeks and kissing her forehead.

           “Is my mum okay? Does she know that I’m here?” Frankie asked, thankfully looking more relaxed as she curled up in the blankets.

“Of course she is sweetie! She knows you’re safe and sound right here.” I told her as I grabbed a book from the stack that I had placed next to her bed. I couldn’t help but think that my sister didn’t deserve the concern that Frankie was giving her. It was just so sad. I tried to hold back my tears while I read a story about a family of bears that went fishing. When Frankie finally fell asleep, I just watched her for a few moments, letting everything sink in.

***

           That night I laid in bed thinking about the adoption papers. How was I going to do this? I didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. And how would I tell Frankie that her mum wasn’t coming back? Seeing her crying like that just killed me. If this was going to happen, would Frankie even like me? Would I like Frankie? How much did it cost to raise a child anyway? I stared intently at the ceiling as if somehow it would provide me with all the answers I was hoping for. I felt guilty for giving Frankie false information. Then I felt angry at my sister for doing this to Frankie – and me.

           I grabbed my phone and furiously scrolled through my contacts to find my sister’s. I wasn’t expecting an answer, but in my tired yet concerted state, I didn’t care. I waited for her phone to ring, but the line went dead instantly. Cursing under my breath, I chucked my phone somewhere to the right of me as the tears started to fall; the tears that I had been holding back since I received the stupid phone call from the police. How could I think this would be easy? Maybe Frankie would be better off with a foster family. But that would just ruin her mental health. She would feel so alone and confused. Why did I have to make that choice?

           It felt like I hadn’t slept a wink when the morning came around and Frankie was tapping on my bedroom door.

“I’m hungry.” She told me. My whole night of debating with myself had not solved anything, and I was just as, if not even more confused about what turn my life had made. Frankie standing in my doorway was a wake-up call to tell me that this was very real. I had to decide very quickly whether or not I was going to do this. Was I going to raise Frankie myself? Or was I going to send her off to a foster family to do the job? I shuddered at the thought of strangers staring down at the small, innocent child. What kind of person would I be if I did that? I felt like a complete hypocrite.

           I got out of bed though and made Frankie some cereal for breakfast – something she did like. I watched her eat while I drank my coffee. It was impossible to see how anyone could turn their back on her so easily. She was so cute and little. It was so easy to love her. Then it hit me. If Frankie went to a foster family, I would probably never see her again. My heart dropped at the thought. What if her mother wanted to see her again? Even though she wouldn’t deserve it, I was the only family Frankie had now. I was the only connection she had to her mother. Frankie was the only family I had too. The Riley family was full of disappointment – it felt like Frankie and I were the only normal ones.

           “Can I please have some more?” Frankie asked me, pushing her bowl towards me. I smiled, happy to see her relaxed and eating.

“Sure thing!” I grabbed her bowl and kissed her forehead before pouring her another generous serving of Rice Bubbles. That moment wasn’t so bad. I liked that moment. It was simple, and I could do it. But what about when she started school? What about the money? I would be a single mother. I would have to deal with everything from bullies to night terrors. I would do the whole mothering thing – but she would still call me Aunty Ginny.

           My sister put my name in Frankie’s pocket for the police. Why did she do that? Was it her weird way of telling us that she still cared for Frankie enough to give her to someone that she knows? As much as I disagreed with what she did, I almost felt like I had to abide by her wishes. Frankie deserved someone to care enough about her that they would set aside time and effort to be her mother. I would be just as awful as Frankie’s mother if I decided not to grab this opportunity with both hands and embrace it. Frankie was safe with me. I provided her with something much more stable than what her mother ever could.

           Frankie smiled at me as she happily downed her second serve. I smiled back, taking another sip of my now cold coffee. It was absolutely horrible, but I swallowed it anyway. I must have made a face because Frankie laughed at me. I laughed with her, forgetting about all the stress that was about to be caused from the dramatic changes about to be served to me on a giant silver platter. For a moment, I just saw us. Two girls sitting at my tiny kitchen table having breakfast and giggling. It was a pretty picture. Frankie didn’t ask about her mother, but she would soon, and I would have to be ready.

I had to figure out how to tell Frankie she wouldn’t be seeing her mother again. I had to sort out my savings, so I could buy a proper bed for her. She would need new clothes soon too because she was growing rapidly. I had to look at schools in the area, she would be starting the next year. Things were going to change very quickly, but I could do it. The decision was made. I would sign the papers. Frankie deserved that. Everything else I would just make happen. Frankie needed me, and frankly, I needed her. I wasn’t ready for the ride, but who was? Nothing truly prepares you for the challenges that life constantly tosses at you.

As I drove Frankie to the supermarket that morning to get some dinner food she actually liked, I realised that both of our lives were about to change forever.