I was packing paint rollers into a plastic storage bin when I heard tires crunching along the dirt road. At first, I assumed it was Avery, coming to say goodbye, but when I looked out the window, it wasFrieda’sfancy little car bouncing to a crooked stop beside my truck.
“What the hell?” I muttered, straightening up and heading to the porch to find out what on earthshewas doing here.
As I got there, she climbed out of her car wearing a giant grin, oversized sunglasses, and a string of fake pearls so large, they were blinding in direct sunlight. Almost immediately, she slid acigarette out of her pocket and lit it, then propped a hand on her hip and looked around from behind the massive glasses.
“This old place is finally starting to take shape,” she commented as if I’d been waiting years for her verdict. “The fencing is looking good and the barn is still standing. Lord knows what you did to get that right.”
“Duct tape and prayers,” I said dryly. “Also known as reinforcement. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, nothing.” She smiled and finally pushed the sunglasses up into her silver-gray hair, only the faintest hue of its original vibrant red remaining. “Just saving you from yourself. It’s my good deed for the day.”
“Awesome.” I nodded slowly, then frowned. “What exactly what I was doing to myself that required being saved from?”
“The camping trip,” she said as if it was obvious. “You’re going. Have you packed yet?”
“No, I have to watch my dad.”
“You’re not staying with Clyde,” she said firmly. “I am and you don’t have to worry, I’ll be there all weekend. No one will take better care of him than me. I’m experienced at that kind of thing. Are you?”
“No, but?—”
I cut myself off when she marched right past me, motioning at the door of the Airstream with her cigarette. “Avery told me you were planning to sit around, martyring yourself instead of having fun, so here I am, saving you from making that particular mistake.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not martyring myself.”
“Darling, wanting to hang back to take care of your dad is admirable, but it is also an act of martyrdom. I’m not having it.I’mstaying with Clyde this weekend andyou’regoing camping, so chop-chop. Go pack.”
“This really isn’t necessary.” I crossed my arms, not moving a muscle toward the trailer. “Dad will be fine on his own for a weekend and I’m more than capable of bringing him food or whatever. Experience doesn’t matter.”
“If he would’ve been so fine, why weren’t you going on the trip until I got here?” She smirked, but her features softened before she turned to drink in the expansive view, her voice now gentler too. “I can take care of Clyde, Raquel. I’ve known that man since before you were born and I swear, he’ll survive two nights of my cooking. We’ll watch old westerns together and reminisce. It’s just a weekend, for God’s sake. You should go.”
“Should I?” I asked quietly, assuming that either Avery had told her or the town gossip mill had already been churning. However it had happened, Frieda clearly knew, but that didn’t surprise me. She knew everything that happened in this town and then some. “It might be the weekend, but that doesn’t mean Dad doesn’t need me.”
“I know how scared you are right now, darling,” she said after a beat, finally turning back to me. “That’s exactly why you should go camping with your brother. Go sit by the lake. Go pretend to be irresponsible. Most importantly, go kiss the pretty boy before he leaves town without you ever having another opportunity.”
Mortification smacked into me like a bus. “What?”
“I might be old, but I’m not blind,” she practically purred. “He looks at you like you were personally responsible for inventing oxygen and you’re not much better. All this pining is going to kill even me eventually.”
“We’re not pining.”
She took a few steps closer and cupped my cheek, the scent of cigarette smoke and musky perfume moving with her like a cloud. “Make sure you smile this weekend, okay? It makes you ten times prettier.”
“Oh my God.”
Strangely, Frieda softened again, her hand sliding from my cheek to my shoulder. “Life is for the living, Raquel. None of us ever know how much time we have, but we do know your father would be furious if he knew you were using him as an excuse not to use your time wisely.”
“It’s not an excuse. I just need to finish packing up my renovation supplies. Then I’m going to spend the weekend with him. Quality time.”
She physically blocked the porch steps when I tried moving around her. “Right now, you think that if you stop moving for five minutes, life as you know it will collapse around you, but the truth is that it’s already started collapsing and you need to pace yourself.”
I blinked hard, feeling like she’d just lassoed my chest and was tugging sharply at the rope. “It really has, hasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said, eyes level on mine. “You’re in this for the long-haul, darling. For now, your dad is still the same man he was last week when you started planning this trip, but that won’t always be true. Take the weekend. Think. Process. Have a bit of fun. If you don’t take care of yourself too, you won’t be able to take care of him, the shop, or anything else.” She finally dropped her hands away from my shoulders and jerked her head toward the Airstream again. “Alright, now get in the trailer and pack before I go do it for you.”
I exhaled a long, slow breath before finally giving in and turning toward the trailer. Frieda followed directly behind me like a prison escort, afraid of what I might get up to if she let me out of her sight. “Avery and Theo are at the motel, getting ready to leave. If you hurry, you can still catch them.”
My stomach gave another one of those silly little flutters, but I breathed through it and headed inside to pack a bag, too busy ignoring Frieda’s advice about tiny bikinis and loads of smiling to really focus on what I was tossing into it. If I thought I stood achance at getting out of this, I might’ve admitted to her how torn I was about it, but I also knew she would take care of my dad.
