My lip tugs. I was right.
I turn toward the ocean, and Fran—Frankie—sits a little taller. A little looser. She’s still wound tight, but the closer we get to the cove, the more her shoulders drop away from her ears.
Except, when we reach the actual cove that gives Serenity Cove its name, cars jam the road and parking spaces are scarce. That was never a problem before. Sanctuary changed all that. A lot changed while I was in Wyoming.
Sure, there are more official parking spots—all metered—since the last time I was here four or five years ago. But there are more visitors too, making it almost impossible to find a spot on the beach locals once had to themselves.
Strangers carry beach bags and chairs stamped with the Sanctuary logo down the newly constructed path leading from the hotel to the once quiet cove. Most people would call the safer path an improvement, but I miss the sandy one that wound through vegetation and required the tenacity and courage of a dumb teenager to navigate.
I stop to let a Dad with a wagon full of beach toys and a toddler cross the street to the path. “I hate that so many people know about this place now. Wasn’t like this when I left for Wyoming.”
Frankie shifts in her seat, sinking low and tucking her chininto her chest. “Did you like it there? In Wyoming? Flo said that’s where you trained to be a vet.”
My eyes drift to hers, and I wonder how I came up in conversation with my Aunt. Did Frankie ask about me? “I liked it, but I never planned to stay. I was only there as long as I was because I met Kayla…my wife.” I lick my lips. I'm never sure how to say the next part. “She passed a little over three years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” Frankie nods, like she already knows. “Must have been hard, taking care of Junie by yourself.”
“My sister Cassidy moved out there to help,” I say lightly. Like those years weren’t the hardest of my life.
I inch down the street in a long line of cars looking for somewhere to park. Quiet settles between Frankie and me. Not uncomfortable, but not easy either.
“Did you surf here as a kid?” She cracks the window, takes a deep breath, but stays low in her seat.
“Tried a few times. I can get up, but I was always too busy on the ranch to really learn.” Salty air reaches my nose, and I breathe it in the way Frankie did. It’s been a while since I’ve smelled the ocean up close. I didn’t realize I’d missed the smell of it.
I make a U-turn to try to find a parking spot again. “What about you? I know you used to surf some, but have you surfed here much?”
She shoots me a quizzical look before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I’ve done a fair bit of surfing. I prefer the break on the other side of the cove. Better action over there.”
I look at her, feeling the same surprise she just showed me. “Toomuch action for me. You must be pretty good.”
Frankie huffs a laugh. “You could say that. Guess Google didn’t feed you anything about my pro-surfer era, yeah?”
My head whips to her. “Really? Pro? I had no idea.”
Her mouth stretches wide. “You’re joking! Start there, then, when you google me later, skip all the bad stuff and go straight to my surf comps.”
“What makes you think I’m going to google you later? If I want to know anything about Frankie Forsythe, I’ll go straight to the source. I’ve got connections.” I wink, then turn my eyes back to the road.
“Seriously, Cal. You obviously knew who I was before today. Don’t pretend you don’t know everything the internetthinksit knows about me. At least give me a chance to set the record straight.” There’s a forced lightness to her voice that doesn’t cover the challenge in her words.
“My mom filled me in on a little bit of who you really are the first time I mentioned you, but I followed her advice to let you tell me the rest of your story yourself. Today was the first time I googled you, and I didn’t dive deep enough to learn much more than I already knew.”
I slow to a stop behind a car waiting for a parking spot then glance at Frankie who’s gone quiet.
“That’s the nicest thing I think anyone’s ever done for me, Cal…Thank you.”
The look on her face is new to me. The only way to describe it is asunmasked. The Fran I thought I knew was an act. At last, I’m getting a peek at the person I’ve been searching for. And that person is Frankie.
I shrug like it hasn’t taken a Herculean effort after leaving Flamingo’s every morning not to find out more about her. “I want to know you, not someone else’s version of who you are.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’m trying to get to know that Frankie, too.”
I smile. “So far, I like who she is.”
Frankie smiles back, and we settle into a comfortable quiet that pulses with electricity as I navigate around the point.
Serenity Cove is protected from the stronger winds that make the waves on the other side of the point better for pro surfers. Beginners like me stick to longboards and the gentle waves inside the cove. Pros prefer the waves outside of it. But because the waves are bigger, it’s sometimes quieter on that side.
