Chapter 8 Cal #2
Frankie delivers a shining smile to each one of them but stops on Mom and Dad. Mom leans into Dad, not quite touching him, just drawn to him.
“Jo and Joey?” Frankie asks.
Dad grins and pulls Mom closer. “Or Jo-Joe. That’s what Junie calls us.”
Frankie’s face brightens to something more natural and unpracticed. “I wondered why Junie called Joanne that when we got here! If that’s what she’s dubbed you, then I reckon that’s what I’d better call you.”
“Hold on…” Cassidy unwinds Junie’s arms from her waist and steps closer to Frankie. “Are we all going to pretend we don’t know this is Frankie Forsythe?” she says with a laugh before looking at the rest of us for confirmation.
Frankie’s cheeks turn a darker shade of pink. “Sorry?” Her lips stretch wider, but there’s nothing natural about her smile.
“You’re Frankie Forsythe,” Cassidy repeats.
I ease into the space between Cassidy and Frankie. “We’re trying to keep that under wraps. That’s why she’s here. She’s got fans trying to out her.”
I’m not going to lie to my sister. Not when she obviously knows the truth. But she doesn’t need to know exactly who we’re hiding Frankie from. That’s Frankie’s story to tell.
Cassidy laughs again. “Cal, I don’t care that she’s Frankie from Surf City High.” She looks around me, directly at Frankie. “She’s Frankie Forsythe. Her dad is Malcolm Forsythe.”
I glance at Frankie who’s gone cold as stone, including the way she stares at Cassidy. She doesn’t say anything. She’s built a wall to defend herself.
“Who’s Malcolm Forsythe?” I ask Cassidy at the same time Mom urges her a few steps backward.
“Frankie’s our guest, Cassidy,” she reminds my sister who meets Frankie’s wall with a smirk.
“He’s the man behind BIG,” Dad says.
“He is BIG.” Frankie draws her eyes to mine. “Burleigh Investment Group. The venture capitalist who almost put your family out of business.”
“He’s not the only one!” Cassidy snorts.
“Come on, Cass,” Bennett mutters.
“It’s true, though,” Wes adds with a matter-of-factness that’s not unkind but draws a clear line. “Frankie was part of BIG, too.”
Frankie’s gaze narrows in on both Bennett and Cassidy. She doesn’t have to move to erase the demilitarized zone Mom’s tried to create. “I’m not anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter. We nearly lost the ranch because of you,” Cassidy fires back.
“We kept it because of her,” Dad says gently. “Let bygones be bygones, Cass.”
I try to keep up with the action on each side, but I have to piece together what they’re talking about. Something falls into place, though: Frankie’s comment last week at the beach that all the people there were her fault. I guess BIG is the “everything else” beyond the TikTok.
After Kayla died, my family kept a lot of stuff from me that was happening at the ranch.
I heard bits and pieces from Cassidy since she was living with me, taking care of Junie.
But I was too focused on finishing my vet training and taking care of a brand-new baby to pay attention to much else that wasn’t right in front of me.
To be honest, with what little I did know about the threat from BIG and their proposed Rancho Mirage project, I was relieved to be so far away. Physically and emotionally. I had no trouble avoiding the battles happening at home.
This much I do know. BIG’s project was stopped but not the publicity their fake eco-resort drummed up. And not Sanctuary—the smaller boutique hotel—or the tourists flooding Serenity Cove because of it.
“It’s not a bygone when you’re still paying attorneys you didn’t have money to hire in the first place,” Cassidy says this to Frankie, not Dad.
Frankie takes a deep breath and turns to me. “I think you should take me home now.”
“But we’re doing a sumber party!” Junie wails.
Frankie’s eyes flit to her, and her wall comes down. But only for a blink. Then she shakes her head. “Not tonight, Juniper.”
She stays standing instead of crouching to get face to face with Junie like she usually does. Junie doesn’t understand what’s shifted or why. She feels it. She doesn’t cry. Her entire body sags against my legs.
“Can you drive me into town, or should I call an Uber?” Frankie asks me.
“I’ll take you.” I won’t force her to stay if she doesn’t want to, but I’m as disappointed as Junie is.
Okay. Hurt, too.
“You’re welcome here any time, for as long as you want, Frankie.” Mom follows up her invitation with a sharp look at Cassidy who presses her mouth tight to hold back whatever she’s about to say.
“That’s right,” Dad adds. “We don’t know the whole story, but we appreciate that you changed course. You saved a lot of farms and ranches around here.”
Wes and Cassidy don’t say anything, but the looks on both their faces give away everything they’re holding back. Bennett shifts uneasily.
“I’ll wait outside.” Frankie turns on her heel and heads for the front door.
She’s halfway there when Hayes comes out of the bathroom in jeans and no shirt, towel-drying his hair.
“When does this picnic start? I’m starving.” When no one answers, he stops rubbing his head long enough to scan the room. “Where’d Fran go?”
In answer to his question, the front door closes with a dull thud.
“It’s not Fran. It’s Frankie Forsythe,” Cassidy says with the certainty of a general trying to recruit a new soldier.
Hayes stares at her, then lets out a long psshhh. “That’s not breaking news, Cass. Everyone in town knows who she is. You’re the only one who still cares.”
Her face falls, and I want to rush to my little sister’s aide. But for maybe the first time in her life, I resist the urge to protect her from the little barbs Hayes habitually throws her way.
Instead, I hand Junie to Hayes and go after Frankie.
Hopefully to convince her to stay.