I stare at his text, not sure what to do either. Not sure what to feel, or what I am feeling. I hate the idea of Junie thinking my leaving is her fault or has anything to do with her. At the same time, I’m so touched that she cares, that she wants me to love her, and that Cal feels safe enough to ask for my help.
I want to tell him yes, but that’s not the right thing to do—to keep stretching out this separation when I've got no clue where my life is taking me. Even with Piper’s advice from last night ringing in my head, I’m not ready to have any harder convos with Cal than what we just had. I’m not ready to tell him all my reasons for wanting to start acting again.
I have no money. Every dime I earned at Flamingo’s has gone to pay my rent and to chip away at the loans I took out in order to be a partner in Sanctuary.
Maybe all that changes in my appointment with Malcolm later today, but I can’t count on that. I don’twantto count on it. I don’t want to be dependent on Malcolm or anybody else. The best part of working at Flamingo’s—aside from the people—was making my own money. No one could take it from me or tell me what to do with it.
But I don’t want to spend my life in a diner hiding, waiting on people, pretending to be someone I’m not, day in and day out. Not when there’s still a possibility I could make money playing someone else for a few months, then go back to beingme.Frankie Forsythe. Even more tempting, I could do something creative again. Something I’m good at.
For so long, I’ve resisted following any path. A path of red carpets, surrounded by cameras. A path of ease and luxury, forged by my father. A path to love and belonging.
Now, they’ve all converged at once. I know I don’t want to follow my father’s path—that hasn’t changed. But no matter what happens today, seeing him again will change the course of whatever path I decide to take. I’m opening a door—even if it’s just a crack—that I’d slammed shut. A door that will allow him back in.
The path back to acting—even with all the negative things that come with it—is beckoning as loud as the surf when the swell’s up. Especially if there’s even the slightest chance I could be in a production ofFrederica.
My heart’s tugging me in that direction, but Cal and Junie are pulling on those heart strings, too. I can’t ignore that. I can’t ignore Junie asking for me. But it’s not fair to any of us if I pretend I can give her everything she wants. I can’t give her all of me.
But I can give her a piece of me. A piece of myself.
So, I text Cal.
How ‘bout I record a message for her? You can play it if she needs it. If she doesn’t, then that’s better, right? But if she does, you’ve got it. It’s something.
He texts right back.
Perfect. Thank you.
So, I record a quick video for her. There’s no acting involved.
“Junebug. I miss you heaps,” I tell her. “And I hope I’ll see you again soon. But I can’t promise anything until I get my life sorted out. That may take a while. Just remember, I love you.”
I send it to Cal, and I hope he knows it’s not just for Junie.
Chapter 21
Frankie
Later that afternoon, on the drive to our “appointment” with Malcolm, things are a bit tense between Piper and me. That’s on me. I didn’t appreciate having my motives questioned about leaving Serenity and Cal behind. When she got back from picking up the sushi, I wasn’t exactly chatty and she probably couldn't hear my mumbled goodbye when she left. I wasn’t ready to admit she’d hit me with some truth bombs.
I’m still not ready to admit that. At least not out loud. Maybe because I can’t tell if it’s my head or my heart seeding doubts about whether I did the right thing saying goodbye to Cal.
Instead, I reach from the back seat of Archie’s car and squeeze her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Pipey.”
She glances over her shoulder with a grim look. “Thanks. Not sure I am.”
Archie reaches across the console to take her hand. “We’re all in this together, yeah?”
I nod. Piper squeezes his hand.
“It’s only an hour.” Archie hangs his other hand over the steering wheel and uses his wrist to steer the car through traffic.
Piper grabs the emergency handle, but I sit back and enjoy the fact I’m not the one navigating side streets and alleyways to avoid the traffic on the 101.
“Is it weird I’m nervous about seeing our own dad?” Archie asks.
“Yeah, nah. Not when we had to make an appointment slot, like he’s a dentist, to visit him on what may be his deathbed,” I answer.
Archie flinches at the worddeathbed.Piper squeezes his hand and offers an encouraging smile.
