I’ve never told my family what was going on with Kayla when she died. That she’d packed her stuff, ready to leave me for someone else and take Junie with her.
I kept it to myself because Mom and Dad were going through enough trouble trying to keep the ranch in the black. I would have told them eventually, but by the time I was ready, they were in the middle of fighting BIG to keep from losing essential pasture leases and water rights.
But mostly I didn’t tell them because of the guilt I felt finding a silver lining in her death. As hard as things were taking care of a brand-new baby while trying to finish up my vet training, I was grateful I didn’t have to share custody of Junie. And how could I admit that to them? So, I just chose to not tell them about our problems. Seemed easier to just keep it all to myself and move on.
Or, at least, tell myself that’s what I was doing.
Mom, though, is looking at me like she knows everything. Maybe not all the details, but her Mom radar is fine-tuned. She probably sensed what was happening with Kayla and me from two states away.
“All I’m saying…don’t let your past get in the way of your future” She holds my gaze, probably reading my mind.
“What does that mean?” I ask. I can be hard-headed when it comes to admitting someone else may know what’s best for me.
That someone is usually Mom.
“Leave the past in the past, Cal. Leave what’s happened with Kayla behind. Not just her death; everything before and after. It’s not going to happen again.”
Her certainty knocks the wind out of me. Not because it hurts, but because I didn’t realize I needed someone to say those words.It’s not going to happen again.
And I want so bad to believe them. To believe Mom. But the worry that another woman will leave me is more deeply etched in my brain—in my heart—than the worry I could end up a widower a second time.
“How do you know for sure?” My voice comes out both pleading and hopeful.
“Oh, my sweet boy.” She holds out her hand, a lifeline I gratefully grasp. “You can’t go into every relationship afraid of how it will end. You go into it planning how you’ll make it work, and then you keep working at it every single day.”
“I tried that with Kayla. I swear.”
She tips her head. “Something meant to last forever takes both parties working at it.”
Something physical happens with her words. An uncoiling in my belly, like a knot that’s finally been pried loose. There’s still more tugging and unwrapping to do, but this feels like a beginning.
“How can I be sure if a woman I’m interested in is the kind who’s willing to put in the work?”
Mom’s expression turns wry. “Oh, you’ll know. You knew with Kayla, didn’t you?”
Reluctantly, I nod. Then, to loosen the knot even more, I unload everything on Mom.
“Things were good at the beginning—when we first got together. Then they weren’t. I knew when it was time to break up, and I waited too long. Kayla got pregnant. We got married.”I look down and shrug. “I tried to make things work. And maybe I could have kept trying, but I gave up when she did.”
“Well, I think we’re all grateful you waited too long to break up. No matter how things would have ended between you and Kayla if she hadn’t died, we have Junie because of her. We’ll always be grateful for that.” Mom squeezes my hand, and I’m able to return her smile, feeling lighter than I have in years.
After saying good night to Mom, I creep into Junie’s room to check on her one more time. She’s curled in a ball, on her knees with her butt in the air. She snores softly, cheek smushed into her pillow, still clutching Bluey in Frankie’s tee.
On her bedside table, a slowly rotating night light projects ocean animals on the wall and illuminates her face. Even asleep, she’s not at rest. Her eyebrows pinch together, she flinches and lets out a quiet sob. My heart drops. Is she missing Frankie even in her dreams?
Then the corner of her lip tugs. My heart shoots back to my chest and expands near to bursting. This daughter of mine stretches my emotions in so many different directions so many times a day, I don’t know how I ever really lived without her or how I’ll survive fatherhood.
I smooth her hair away from her face, kiss her cheek, tuck Bluey a little closer to her. Then I tiptoe out, leaving the door open a crack so I can hear if she wakes up in the night.
Back in my own room, with Mom’s advice and Junie’s tear-stained cheek fresh in mind, I debate whether it’s too soon to text Frankie. I told her we’d be here when she was ready to come back, but I also pushed her away.
I recognize fear is what motivated me, but that doesn’t make me any less afraid to try to keep Frankie close. She could still slip away, and Junie and I would hurt even more than we already are.
Or…Frankie could come back, knowing this is exactly where she wants to be, here with Junie and me.
Chapter 18
Frankie
