DESIGN FOR LOVE by Bryan Murray

what you did last time if you-know-who calls.”
    “Don’t worry, I will.”
    “Good. I’ll give you a call in the morning. Hopefully by then, I’ll have you-know-who sorted out.”
    “I hope so, dear.”
    “Me too!” Francine put the phone down before starting to get dressed, a purposeful look in her eye.

CHAPTER 16
    There was a light chill in the air as Francine walked the two blocks to ‘Mandolins’. The unending New York traffic droned by as a full moon rose slowly in a sky with a hint of frost to come.
    Nostalgically, her mind wandered back to the past and to a time when life between her and Steve had actually had some tender moments. Her educational path through quality schools and universities had eventually hooked up with Steve’s who was on a music scholarship and with his winsome smile and musical talent, he had been a charming, if not completely responsible partner.
    In his early days with his group ‘Flirtations’, boy was that a word that came back to haunt her, he had made reasonable money and even though he had not been the ideal choice of Yvette and Carl for their daughter, they recognized that Francine was deeply in love and so they reluctantly gave their blessing.
    However, as Francine reflected sadly, those were the days before drugs and alcohol entered the life of her ex-husband. Even when Alison was still a toddler, Steve’s philandering and mood swings were a constant source of anguish and desperate cover-up by Francine who didn’t want Alison exposed in any way to the weaknesses of her father.
    The other women, since Steve had been a handsome man, she could put up with, but to have an impressionable child see a role model the worse for drugs and drink was more than she could stand.
    She had pleaded with Steve to get him to go into re-hab but he had consistently resisted until it had finally reached the point where he had returned from a gig after being on a three-day drunk, arriving back at the house right in the middle of a birthday party that Francine was giving for Alison’s eighth birthday.
    She saw the horror and embarrassment on the child’s face in front of her friends when Steve staggered into the house, unshaven, bleary-eyed, a bottle still in his hand and as far as Francine was concerned, that was the last straw.
    Within two days, with help from Carl and his attorney, she had filed for divorce, a divorce that had been uncontested by Steve and in which he had stated his desire to have no further part in the life of his daughter.
    At eight years of age, Alison had shown surprising maturity and she had been an unexpected tower of strength in helping Francine cope with the situation at a time when she was in the final stages of getting her degree in fashion design.
    Not being a vindictive person, Francine felt a deep sorrow at the fact that Steve had been unable to control his demons, but that didn’t in any way excuse his recent behavior and she was determined that he would not bring back into their lives a repetition of the out of control anger she had unavoidably witnessed the previous night.
    It was about five minutes before nine when she entered the club and, as on the previous occasion, there was a scattering of patrons at tables and at the dimly-lit bar, waiting for the group to begin, She had timed it so that she could perhaps catch Steve before his spot and at least try and talk some sense into him.
    She sat at a table at the back and ordered her customary Perrier water. In the darkened area near the stage, members of the group were starting to hook up their electronics, or whatever it was that groups always seemed to do before starting up.
    She spotted Steve arrive to one side and he started to unpack his guitar and start hooking up his amplifiers. Taking a deep breath she stood up and walked over to him. He had still not noticed her as she approached.
    “Steve,” she started as he looked up in surprise. “We need to talk!”
    He looked more lucid than he did the