Fran 7 (FICTION)

Francisca pulled up to a three-story house. The guard at the gate recognized her immediately and opened the gate with a tip of his baseball cap. Marcus had been working for the Lofts for so many years, Francisca considered him part of the family. As was the usual habit at the house, Francisca pulled up to the front door and popped the trunk. Leaving the keys in the ignition, she walked out of the car and headed towards the house; Marcus would take care of the rest. 

Francisca stood in front of the door and gathered her thoughts for a minute. She had no idea what awaited her inside, but she had no other choice, nowhere else to go. For once, she just wanted to have a normal family, a normal mother. She wanted to walk through the door, step into her mother's protective open arms, and sob like a baby.

Francisca remembered the last time she cried in front of her mother. It was six years ago. Sean had just broken up with her and she was depressed. She came home while her mother was out. When Linda walked in, she saw Francisca sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by dirty tissues and empty containers of Haagen Dazs. 

"What's going on here, Francisca?" Linda called out, appalled. "It's not another break-up now, is it? Really, Fran, no wonder you keep getting dumped all the time. Just look at yourself, you've gained at least five pounds. That ice cream is really not helping you..." She would have continued, but Priscilla, the housekeeper, walked into the room. Linda immediately switched over to her, calling out a dozen commands per minute. As Priscilla walked out of the room, Linda followed, shouting something at her the whole way. As usual, Francisca was forgotten and left to wallow in her own pain, alone. Since then, Francisca made sure not to show any weakness to her mom. This time, though, things seemed to be different. 

Gathering her courage, Francisca finally rang the doorbell. A few minutes passed before a young girl in a uniform opened the door. Must be the new maid, Francisca thought. "Oh, Ms. Loft..." the maid said, surprise in her voice. Well, at least she was well-trained. "Come in. I'm sorry, Mrs. Loft hadn't mentioned you would be staying here. I'll get your room prepared right away."

"Wait, please. Are my parents out then?"

"I'm sorry, I presumed you knew. Mr. and Mrs. Loft are in Paris for the next two weeks..." Her voice trailed off.

That's just perfect, Francisca thought, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.