Chapter 7 Frankie #2
Cal comes back inside, and I follow him to the back door. When we get there, he boosts Junie and her bag in one arm, then tucks me under the other, rushing us both to his truck like we’re under fire.
Which, apparently, we are. Someone calls my name before he’s able to close the passenger door. In the time it takes him to buckle Junie into her seat, a half dozen people swarm his truck. I sink low in the seat, tucking my chin close to my chest and pulling the hood tighter.
“Move out of the way, please. I’ve got to get my girl home,” Cal tells the small crowd in a calm voice laced with a bit of a threat.
“Is Frankie Forsythe your girl?” someone yells, and my head whips up.
“No idea who you’re talking about, but it’s dinnertime for my kid.” He climbs in the truck and slams the door.
My heart pounds almost as loud as his engine. He revs it as a warning, then reverses. I curl into my lap, hoping anyone who hasn’t backed away will when they realize they can’t get any good pics of me.
I don’t sit up until Cal tells me it’s safe. Even then, I keep the sunglasses and hat on and the hoodie pulled up.
“You shouldn’t have said anything about Junie,” I say when I’m able to breathe again.
His eyes dart to me then back to the road. “I didn’t. Only that I wanted to get her home for dinner.”
“You don’t understand these people, Cal.
Now they know you live nearby, they’ll be looking for your truck and following you to see if I’m at your house, too.
” I glance at the side mirror, worried someone might be following us now.
“They’ll follow Junie to preschool, ask her questions about me. I told you this was a bad idea.”
Cal huffs like he’s blowing off my concerns, but I hear the worry in it. “Let’s cross one bridge at a time, okay? Nobody’s following us now. Trust me, if they try to, I’ve driven these roads a million times. I can outrun them.”
“I hope you’re right.” I give him a grateful smile, but his confidence doesn’t soothe all my worries. Paparazzi is one thing. Once my dad knows where I am, though, there won’t be any outrunning him.
Junie chatters in the back, and Cal keeps up a steady conversation with her, but I stay silent, worry working through me like termites in timber.
We turn down a dirt road and don’t go far before he stops at a gate with the same cursive H that’s on the side of his truck. He keys in a code, and the big gates take long enough to open that I look over my shoulder to make sure no one has caught up with us.
I watch in the side mirror as the gates close behind us, then sit up straight for the first time since leaving Flamingo’s. I crack the window and take a deep breath. My chest loosens on my exhale.
“Are those your avocados?” I point to the grove of trees on the side of the winding dirt road.
“Yeah. We’ve got a decent crop this year.”
A crew is out picking the fruit, some on ladders, some using poles, and I’m tempted to ask Cal to stop, so I can watch. Or maybe join. Unlike my life, the purpose and certainty in their movements is soothing.
The road climbs higher, giving me a better view of the hills surrounding us and also the towns below. In the distance, cows graze.
“Those are yours?” I point.
He nods. “My family’s anyway.”
“And you grew up here?” I crack the window a bit more, wanting the air but not the dust.
“If you’re trying not to get dusty, give up now.” Cal laughs and unrolls all the windows. Junie laughs and sticks her arm out the back window. I grin and do the same.
“And, yeah,” Cal raises his voice over the sound of air rushing in the windows. “Holloways have had this land for generations. Grandpa passed away a few years ago, but my grandma still lives on the property.”
“Grandma got ran over by a reindeer!” Junie shout sings, then giggles hysterically.
Cal shakes his head. “Should have never taught her that song. She sings it every time I mention Granny.”
I laugh at the same time he pulls in front of a ranch house with dark wood and a warm stone face.
Even from the outside, the house feels cozy.
A stone chimney rises from the roof. I haven’t met Cal’s family, but I can picture them sitting around the fireplace together on a chilly winter night.
The house is big, but not too big. Nothing like the house Dad built after Forsythe Tech went public.
My feet touch the gravel driveway at the same time a woman steps out of the double front doors and waves to me. She’s Flo’s lookalike except with dark hair the color of Cal’s.
“Jo-Joe!” Junie cries, running to her. “I brought a friend!”
Junie’s Jo-Joe picks her up and hugs her tight. “Are you going to introduce her to me?” she asks as I come up the steps.
“Mom, this is Frankie,” Cal says.
“Daddy! I was telling her!” Junie wails.
“I’m sorry, Bug. Go ahead.”
Junie sucks in an angry breath and squirms out of her grandma’s arms to grab my hand. “This is Fwankie. She’s my friend, and she doesn’t like pictures.”
“Well, then, I’ll be sure not to take any without asking.” Mrs. Holloway’s eyes crinkle in the corners, just like Flo’s, but then she does something very un-Flo-like and pulls me into a hug. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”
“You, too, Mrs. Holloway,” I stutter when she steps back but keeps hold of my forearms.
“Oh, now, you call me Joanne. Or Jo. I’ll answer to both.” She takes me by one hand and Junie by the other and leads us inside a big, open entryway. “June Bug, go clean your room so Frankie can see it at its best.”
“It is cwean.”
With one look, Jo puts a stop to Junie’s protests. “Pick up ten toys, then come tell me when you’re done. Ready, set…Go!”
With her little fists pumping, Junie races down the hall in the opposite direction Jo leads me.
“Now, I’m assuming you’re going to be here for a day or two, so I’ve got the guest room ready and a few of Cassidy’s things for you to borrow.” She moves my hand to the bend in her arm as she talks and walks. “They might be a little long on you, but we’ll have to make do.”
I have a vague notion that Cal is behind us, but I’m so enveloped in Jo’s warmth and whatever delicious smell is coming from the kitchen, that everything else just melts away.
I pull air into my lungs like I’ve just remembered how to breathe and scan the family pictures lining the hallway Jo leads me down.
I’ll look at them later. For now, I only want to float behind Jo until I find a soft place to land.
To be honest, I think I’ve already found a soft landing. It’s strange, feeling at home with strangers. But that’s what this feels like: home.
Or what I’ve imagined home feels like.
When we reach the kitchen, Jo sets me down in a seat at the counter then fills a glass with water. She slides it to me without quite meeting my eye.
That sets off a warning bell.
“Now,” she says with a sigh. “Flo asked me to make sure you got a message. She didn’t want to call you in case someone was watching or listening.”
My breath quickens. My feet touch ground.
“She said a young man was asking about you. He was very persistent and wanted to make sure you knew he was in town. A Brandon McVey.”
My breath catches. I thought I’d have more time before he found me. When I find my breath again, it’s too late. I’m already free falling, and there’s no ground to stop me.
“Any idea who she’s talking about?” Cal’s voice sounds far away even though he’s right next to me.
I nod and lace my fingers together to keep from clenching my fists. “My ex-husband.”