Chapter 17
Cal
Idon’t get home until after nine. I spent most of the day hanging out at the office, hoping Frankie would change her mind and come back. When I pull into the driveway, the house is dark except for one light, and I’m relieved. I don’t want to face anyone, Junie most of all.
I pushed Frankie to go, but I’ve been wrestling all afternoon with whether I did what I thought was best for her or for me. Right now, her leaving doesn’t feel best for any of us. I don’t want to go inside knowing she could have been here with me if I hadn’t pressed her to decide if she was staying in Serenity Cove for good.
When I finally do walk inside, I follow the light to the big room where Mom’s reading a book with Junie asleep on her lap.
“She asleep?” I whisper, and Mom nods.
“Refused to go to bed until you and Frankie got home.” Mom glances over the top of her readers at me, then turns a page in her book.
“You didn’t tell her Frankie wasn’t coming back?”
Mom shakes her head. “Not my job.”
I sigh. Not because I’m mad, but because Mom’s doing the same thing to me that I did to Frankie, by not rescuing me from the hard thing I was trying to avoid.
I scoop up Junie and her stuffed Bluey, wearing an old T-shirt, falls from her arms. Mom hands it to me, and I shift Junie in my arms to take it.
“What’s this?” I nod toward the shirt Bluey’s drowning in.
“Frankie’s tee. Junie insisted.”
I let out a soft groan. I’m in trouble.
I carry Junie to her bed and tuck Bluey next to her, breathing in the smell of Frankie as I do. I kiss Junie goodnight, trying not to think about Frankie reading to her…was it only last night? How did she slip into our lives as seamlessly as if she’d aways been here?
I leave Junie softly snoring and turn toward my room. But Mom is making enough noise in the kitchen to signal she’s expecting me back there. I can only run for so long, and I’ve reached the end of the road.
Mom greets me in the kitchen with a bowl of mac and cheese, and I’ve never felt like a bigger coward.
“Busy day,” she says, with the kind of loving accusation only a mother can deliver, making a show of pulling on her dishwashing gloves to tackle the stack of dishes in the sink.
“Had some things to clean up at the office, then Hank called with a colicky mare. Thanks for looking after Junie.” I’d texted her after Frankie left, telling her I wouldn’t be back for a while, and Frankie wouldn’t be back at all.
When Hank Black called about his mare, enough time had passed for Frankie to be close to LA and for me to give up hope she’d change her mind. I was grateful for an emergency to take my mind off her. Unfortunately—for me anyway—the case was mild and instead of a distraction, it only reminded me of thelast time I was at Hank’s when Frankie stepped in like a pro and helped me birth the foal.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks.
“Yeah. Pretty mild case. Banamine and a nasogastric tube is all she needed.” I shovel mac and cheese in my mouth. “This is delicious. Thanks.”
“It’s just Kraft. And I wasn’t asking if Hank’s mare is okay. I was asking about you.” She corners me with alook, then doubles down with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m fine. All good,” I lie.
“And Frankie? Is she fine?” Mom scoops more mac and cheese in my bowl before I can stop her. I’m trapped.
“I think so…” I keep my eyes on the mac.
“Flo says she picked up her car and said she’s headed back to LA.”
“Her dad’s sick.” I keep my voice neutral.
Mom nods. “According to Flo. She said goodbye and took off.”
I stab at my mac and cheese. “Did she say where in LA she was going?”
