American Dad Francine's Sister Novels & Stories

I called Dad's number. It rang three times before he hung up. Then I called Mom. It rang and rang, but no one picked up. I lay down and turned my head to look at the streetlight outside. It went out, the way a candle goes out when someone blows on it. “Happy birthday, Elena.” “I hope my sister Iris stays healthy and happy.” “I made my last wish, and my mind slowly went dark.”

My eyes were reddened as I stared at them coldly without reaching out. A look of disgust appeared in Wynnie's eyes as she sneered, "I thought you'd finally learned to behave. Turns out you still have quite a temper. If you're so upset, then we don't need to hold the sip and see tomorrow. We can go to the courthouse and get divorced instead!" I stared at her intently. I wished I could tear open her body and see whether her heart was made of stone. Five years ago, she had said the same thing about divorce. That was back when I discovered that she had slept with her adopted younger brother, Logan Jameson.

I stared at my parents like they had grown two heads, not believing what they just said. "That's impossible, is this some sort of joke?" I questioned and Mum just rolled her eyes, relaxing against the sofa while Dad placed a hand on her lap. "No Joke, Betty. Your sister really needs this." Dad told me and my lips parted in shock. "You are telling me, Jenna is okay with me screwing her man?" I widened my eyes at them and Dad nodded slowly.

They didn’t know I was coming home. They never read the messages, that means they don’t even know how successful I am in Paris..Ah…this sulks…I feel so stupid. “Hazel?” Yvonne was the first to speak, dropping her flutes and she walked up to me. “Why are you home?” She rasped. Why …why am I home? You haven’t seen your sister in three years and the first question is Why am I home? Swallow it…Hazel….smile…just smile.

Thankfully, she didn't have to deal with Megan on her way back. *** "Little sister. You're the best sister in the world, have I told you that lately?" Ben chimed, grinning at his sister. Francine narrowed her gaze at him, pausing mid stroke on her painting. "What do you want?" She asked, crossing her arms. Ben gasped dramatically, "Why would you assume that I want something?" "One, I'm your only sister in the entire universe. Second, I know my brother more than anyone else. You would rather be behind your big desk, buried in office work than being here in my studio." Francine said, looking pointedly at him. "So, get it out."

I was obviously a good 15 pounds bigger than I was before. "Hey babe, ready to go?" He smiled as he hopped in the car. "As ready as I'll ever be" I smiled. "I didn't know my dad would be here or my brother" Ryan frowned as we entered the hall. "Why are all my co-workers here?" He asked in confusion. I shrugged "no clue babe" "Ryan! Hi darling and a big hello to the beautiful Maddie" Francine, his step mother said as she kissed me on the cheek.

“No more running for me, Liv. Those days are long gone.” “Damn right,” Emma said. “The only place you’re going to be running is down a church aisle to Jim.” “You got it,” Beth said happily. Just then, Francine entered the room and smiled at Frankie. “OK, mon choux,” she said. “Let’s go, huh? Let maman finish getting ready?” “Thanks, Francine,” Emma said, giving Frankie a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I hope he behaves himself.” Francine shrugged. “If he doesn’t, Mark and I will take him out for a walk. No problem, Em. Don’t stress.”

If it’s so, then my sister is one crazy kid. Dad came to stand behind his chair. “Francis.” “Yes.” Francis wasn’t looking at dad, he was staring at his clasped hands on the table. “Yes who?” Francis looked up slowly at dad and then looked away. “Yes who?” Dad repeated sternly. “What do you want me to say?” Francis asked him. “What have you been saying for the past 19 years?” Dad kept his strict tone, the boss that the world knows. “Yes, uncle.” Francis said.

Cindy began to recount. Cara gulped and decided to look at her. "Now, during my senior year, I was seventeen, my sister was thirteen. There was this house across the street where a single dad, white, lived with his son who was my age. They smoked a lot and I never saw him at school. My dad warned us to stay away from him. He worked three jobs just to have a savings for both me and Fran. But Fran, she was a free spirit, just like you. No one could tell her nothing. She was stubborn and hardheaded and had no real sense of danger."