“You remember me,” I say, pleased.
“How could I forget? You might be the only student I’ve ever had who never ducked into my office as an excuse to cut class,” he teases.
Mr. Matthews is an older man with dark skin and warm brown eyes, though he has a lot more grey at his temples than he used to. He was always a steady presence when I went to school here, and though I hadn’t visited him often—usually just to choose my electives or get my class schedules in order—I can honestly say that I’ve never felt as comfortable with any other man.
He gestures for me to take the seat across from him. “So. What can I do for you, Frankie?”
Haltingly, I remind him of how he’d reached out to me when I was a student at NHS. “I guess you’d surmised that things…weren’t so easy at home. And you offered counseling. You also said I could stop by any time if I needed a break from class.”
Nodding, he says, “My door’s always open. That goes for all the kids here, even the ones who aren’t on my roster. Although everyone’s on my roster now.”
“Congratulations on the promotion, by the way,” I tell him.
“Thank you.”
I lean forward. “So here’s the thing…I didn’t take you up on your offer at the time, but I realize now that I should have taken the help.”
“No hard feelings,” he says kindly. “Looks like you’ve turned out just fine.”
“Yeah. But I guess I was just wondering…” It takes me a second to gather my thoughts, and my courage. “I’m wondering if I might be able to take you up on your offer now. Only not for myself, but for my sister.”
“Olivia Abbott. Great student, great attitude. What’s going on?”
The sincerity in his eyes makes me feel more confident, and I explain a little bit about our situation—not the worst of it, of course, but enough to give him an idea of what Livvie’s going through.
“Maybe you could look out for her?” I ask. “Let her know…you know. That you’re here. That she has someone she can talk to.”
He spreads his hands. “Of course. I’m happy to help, however I can.”
“She could use a good male influence, Mr. Matthews. She needs to see…what that’s like. I didn’t have any good men in my life, and it’s—I’ve made some choices I regret. I don’t want Livvie to end up like me or Charlie.”
His expression gets more serious. “Is she safe?”
“Yes. She’s living with our older sister. Indefinitely. It’s just been an adjustment.”
“Okay. Good, then. I’ll reach out to her this week.” He pauses, seeming to mull something over. “You know, I can still help you, too, Frankie. If you want.”
I laugh. “I appreciate that, Mr. Matthews. But my fate is sealed. It’s too late for me.”
Deep lines mar his forehead as he looks at me. “Any life can be changed. It’s never too late.”
I wave him off. “Livvie’s the important one. What I’ve done, I’ve done for her. Please. Help her.”
He reaches across the desk and lightly pats my hand. “I will. I promise you that. And I appreciate you dropping in to visit me—always good to see my old students again. Stop by any time.”
I thank him again and leave, feeling marginally better for the first time in a long time. If only the nervous rolling in my stomach would stop.
Ever since I got Dante’s text last night, my stomach’s been a pit of nauseous dread. I assume that settling things “once and for all” means he’s ready to serve me legal paperwork nullifying our marriage, or maybe he’s found some loophole he can use to assert his claim on the Abbott Winery. Whatever he has in mind, it can’t be good. I spend the short drive over to Bellanti Vineyards trying to calm myself down, and failing utterly.
I’m leaning against the parked car staring at the door to the Bellanti offices (and gathering my courage to go inside) when I spot Candi coming out of the tasting room.
She smiles, looking like she wants to talk, but I wave her off with a friendly smile of my own, starting resolutely down the gravel drive toward the offices. I’m afraid if I stop for chitchat, I’m going to completely lose my nerve.
But Candi doesn’t get the hint and hurries over to intercept me before I reach the door.
“Frankie! It’s so good to see you.” She throws her arms around me in a bear hug that almost has me breaking down. Lowering her voice, she adds, “Are you on your way to see Dante, by any chance?”
“Actually, yes. Why? Did you need something from him? Because I don’t think I’m the best person to be asking him for any favors right now—”
