Chapter 9 Frankie
Frankie
The sun dips in the horizon, washing the Holloway ranch in an orange so vibrant my eyes water with the intensity and beauty of it. It hurts, but I can’t look away.
My heart pounds, and I can’t catch my breath while my mobile buzzes in my pocket. I know without looking that it’s the ANM chat. It’s been going mad since this afternoon, and I haven’t answered with anything more than chill, mates.
They’ve done the opposite.
Rhys has texted more than once in the chat, plus reached out to me separately.
Stella too. Dex’s message in the chat was just two words: you alright?
Archie and Piper, though, have taken turns ringing me.
While one texts, the other rings. They’re waist-deep working at Bombora, their surf wear brand, but if I don’t answer soon, they’ll send out an emergency search.
I pace the driveway, gravel crunching underfoot as I pass Cal’s truck—once, twice, three times—replying to their texts; the equivalent of putting out campfires while a wildfire rages just out of reach.
I’m good.
No, you don’t need to come. It’ll only make things worse.
It’s not a big deal.
Everything’s under control. Cheers.
The heavy front door opens, and I stop. Cal steps out, concern—or is it pity?—written all over his face. I put on my smile.
“Sorry to be such a bother.”
“You’re not a bother, Frankie. “
I scoff. “Doubt your sister agrees with you there.”
He stops in front of me, and I go still. “Ignore her. Cassidy’s got no filter, but she’s got a big heart. This’ll blow over. Come back inside.”
I shake my head, staring at the faint dirt track in the gravel formed from my pacing. “I reckon I should go. Things are about to blow up. I’ve got to head back to LA. Maybe Australia.”
He winces. “Is that what you want to do?”
No. I want to say. There are too many content goblins in LA—vultures looking to go viral with a mobile, a ring light, and the right moment.
Not to mention Brandon, although apparently, he’s somewhere in Serenity Cove now.
But my dad’s in Australia, which makes the whole continent the last place I want to be.
So, I shrug instead. “My only option is to find somewhere to go. I’ve caused enough drama in Serenity Cove. You don’t need that spilling over here at the ranch, too.”
“I can decide what I need. I’m not worried about the drama.” The certainty in Cal’s voice draws my eyes to his.
I want to believe him, but I want to protect him even more. Junie, too.
“You should be worried.”
I’ve seen Cal handle emergencies with calmness and ease—Junie escapes being the exception. But he has no idea the kind of drama he’s in for with me around. This isn’t an animal emergency that will pass. This is my life.
I take a deep breath. “I should go.”
My eyes drift back to the sinking sun. The orange is softer now, bathing the valley below in a soothing glow.
“Let me show you the best spot to watch the sunset first,” Cal says, like he’s read my mind.
I nod and, reflexively, the edge of my mouth pulls up.
He holds out his hand, and I slip mine into his. My pulse slows, and my chest opens. I can breathe again.
With my palm wrapped safely in his, he leads me to a small pond at the base of the hill the house sits on. There’s an iron bench there like you’d find in a park. Cal sits and pats the spot next to him.
His eyes are a blue flame in a sky of orange and pink. But the fire there is welcoming and warm—not one I need to put out, even if I should.
I sit close. My head rests against the arm he’s slung across the back of the bench.
The water mirrors the sunset, softening its color even more, adding browns and blues.
Tall cattails sway nearby. Birds chitter.
A light breeze carries a thousand smells, and I wish I could dissect and identify each one.
“Look there.”
I follow the direction of Cal’s finger to where mama ducks and her chicks are swimming, dipping their beaks into the water, coming back up and shaking their heads.
I’ve seen ducks before, but there’s something about the way the ducklings stay close to their mum, following her movements, imitating her that tugs at my heart and my memories.
“When I was a kid, my mum used to take my brother, Archie, and me to this little park where we’d feed the ducks,” I say. “I’d forgotten that until just now.”
“That sounds nice. Must be hard to spend time with her now.”
I nod. “She’s still back in Australia.”
Cal nods in return. “Do you talk to her much?”
I take a breath. “Probably not often enough. The time difference makes it hard, and she’s got younger kids. My half-brother and sister are still at home, so she’s busy with them.”
I don’t tell him how often she reaches out and I don’t reply.
“I didn’t talk to my mom much when I was in Wyoming. Then I became a dad and realized I needed her more than I ever knew.”
Cal’s leg touches mine, and I don’t pull away, but as much as I’m tempted to, I resist sinking into him or letting him take on the weight of me. That’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to Junie. It’s not fair to anyone.
“How’d she die? Your wife, I mean.”
Flo’s told me the basics, but I’ve wanted to hear the story from Cal. Now’s not the ideal time, but I’ve leaned on him over the past week as my life’s threatened to unravel. I’d like to be someone he feels can hold his story, like he’s held mine.
Cal swings his arm from behind me and leans forward on his knees, clasping his hands together. “Car wreck. Junie was six months old. She was in the backseat, passenger side, when Kayla got T-boned. Hit right on the driver’s side. She never had a chance. But Junie was okay, by some miracle.”
Our legs are pressed together, but I hold back reaching for him. “I’m so sorry, Cal.”
He exhales. “It’s hard to balance out what I feel about losing Kayla with the relief I feel about not losing Junie too.”
Before I know what I’m doing, I brush my hand down his back but stop before I do something really stupid—like hold him. “I can’t imagine going through something like that. You must miss her.”
Cal sends me a sad smile over his shoulder. “To be honest, I don’t miss her like I should. We got married because she was pregnant, and I thought that was the best way to fix the mistake I’d made going to bed with her. Raising Junie alone is hard, but being married was hard too.”
“Relationships are hard.”
Cal scoffs. “Yeah. I should have done more to make my marriage easier.”
“I don’t know anyone who’s been married who couldn’t say the same thing, including me.”
Cal sits back. Our shoulders touch, and I don’t move away. Cal may need to lean on me for once, and I want to be able to support him. “What would you do different?”
No idea why, but that makes me laugh. “Everything. Probably wouldn’t marry Brandon in the first place. I did it as much to get out of marrying who my dad wanted as for any other reason.”
It’s easier to tell myself that than admit I was ever really in love with Bran.
Cal’s brow furrows. He does that when he’s trying to figure something out. “Is that one of the relationships that’s hard for you? You and your dad?”
I nod and swallow. “I don’t speak to Malcolm—my dad. He doesn’t know where I am. I want to keep it that way. Or, at least, I hoped to. There’s no way he won’t find me now.”
“Are you afraid he’ll hurt you?” Cal stiffens and moves closer to me, like he’s ready to create some kind of force field to protect me.
“Not physically. Just emotionally. Nothing I can’t handle, but avoidance is my preferred method when it comes to conflict.” I break into a smile, and he relaxes.
“I’d pretend I haven’t noticed, but you’re the only one here who’s any good at acting.” Cal returns my smile, then slides his hand down my forearm to squeeze my fingers. “You want to tell me your side?” He tips his head toward the house. He’s not asking about Brandon anymore. He’s asking about BIG.
My impulse is to say no, to protect myself, to protect him. But he squeezes my hand again. I look from his long fingers to his eyes and the tiny scar there.
Brandon was the last person I told my story to, and he used it to his own advantage. I shouldn’t trust Cal, but right now, I don’t have anyone else to trust. And he deserves to hear how I’ve hurt his family. I can’t keep that from him and expect him to trust me in return.
“Everything Cassidy said is fair. I don’t blame her for being angry. I’ve paid a high price for what I did, but I deserve everything I got.” I draw my gaze from his to the last bit of sun dipping behind the mountains.
“Or you might be too hard on yourself and didn’t deserve any of it.” Cal’s voice is gruff and impatient, and I wonder if he thinks he’s got to protect me from myself as well as everybody else.
That’s all the more reason to tell him the truth. He needs to know who I really am. I take a breath and slip my hand from his.
“I fell in love with Serenity Cove the first time I surfed here—back in my Surf City High days. Not just because of the great wave. I loved the town, too. I dreamt of buying the old inn and turning it into something small and environmentally friendly. A place where people could surf and enjoy what I’d fallen in love with. It seemed selfish not to share it.”
I pause and laugh softly at a sudden realization. “That’s how in my own head I was. I thought Serenity Cove was mine to share.”
“The same could be said of everyone who lives around here,” Cal says gently. “We all think it’s ours. The truth is it doesn’t belong to anybody.”
I laugh again—a short, scoffing thing. “Because of me, the whole town almost belonged to my dad. I told him about the inn. I only wanted the money he’d put in a trust for me. My idea was to buy the inn and fix it up. I wanted to keep everything small.”
I look at Cal, waiting for him to see the fatal flaw in my plan. The blaring warning I should have seen all along. Cal looks back at me, waiting. As oblivious as I was.