Chapter 15 Frankie
Frankie
The ride into town is quiet. Too quiet. Not the comfortable quiet between friends, and I wish I would have taken Cal’s hug. Who knows when I’ll get another one, not just from him but from anyone.
I’ve lived in Serenity Cove for three years, but the past twenty-four hours are the first I’ve really felt like I’m home here. Honestly, it may be the first time I’ve felt at home since before my parents divorced.
That’s a scary thought.
I’ve learned the hard way, home can’t be with other people, or even a place. It’s gotta be where and how you make it. That way there’s no risk of someone taking it from you.
That’s why I feel at home on a stage. Always have, whether that stage was a wave or a set.
I could be Frankie the competitive surfer or Paige the high school surfer with the boyfriend who’d play guitar and sing ballads to her around a fire on the beach.
Or a nurse or a struggling journalist or the supportive bridesmaid who’s secretly in love with the groom.
I slipped into each of those parts more naturally than I’d ever felt playing the part of Francesca Forsythe, daughter of billionaire Malcolm Forsythe.
My parents’ divorce and Mum’s quick remarriage made it easy to find home somewhere besides with either of them.
Malcolm had a new girlfriend, and Mum had a new husband, then a new baby.
‘Course it took me years in therapy to work all that out.
About the time I finally understood why I love the stage, my life imploded.
I ran from every home I had—my family, my friends, my husband, and my career.
I don’t regret running from my family—Archie being the exception—or my husband.
But I haven’t stopped missing my friends and my career.
They were home, and I left them. My regrets run deep about that.
I glance at Cal who’s tapping his thumb on the steering wheel, his brow furrowed deep with thought. He’s been like that since we got in his truck. Hasn’t said a word, and I’m worried I put that look on his face, but I’m not sure how.
“Sorry I lost it with Junie,” I say. “I was in the middle of a text with Archie. That’s what set me off, not her.”
He looks at me and blinks until understanding dawns. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“So that’s not what’s on your mind? Because you seem a bit put out, if I’m being honest—which, you know, we agreed to be…”
That pulls a smile from him. “I’m not mad. Just thinking…worrying, actually.”
“About?”
He drops his head and sighs. “Junie on the ATV. I worry when she’s in any kind of vehicle without me, and then I worry I’ll never stop worrying about that, and what happens when she’s a teenager wanting her driver’s license?”
“You’ve got a proper list of worries, Cal.” I try to hold back a laugh, but it slips out. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. I’m just picturing sixteen-year-old Junie prying the car keys from your hand and saying she can ‘Do it by myself, Daddy!’”
The corner of Cal’s mouth tugs. “You can laugh. I know it’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous at all. You could have lost her. Of course you want to keep that from happening again.” I want to reach for his hand, but I stop myself and hope my words are comfort enough.
“She reminds me so much of Kayla. She was a risk-taker, always doing something before thinking about it. She was speeding and ran a light. That’s why she got hit.
” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Bennett will take care of Junie. He’s not going to let anything happen to her.
They’re only going from the grove up to the house.
But I have this scenario running in my head of her grabbing the handles, running off the road, and flipping the thing.
I want her to be independent, but I also want to make sure nothing ever happens to her.
And I worry I’ll stifle her if I don’t figure out how to quit worrying. ”
My laugh escapes in a gentle puff. “So basically, you just worry all the time.”
Cal laughs too. “Okay. Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Did you always worry like that? Before Junie, before Kayla?”
He shakes his head, then reconsiders and nods. “I’ve always been a worrier. Or at least a planner. I like to know what’s coming next. I like things to be right.”
“I understand that. My dad’s a bit that way too. Except he takes it to extremes. He’s got to control everything.”
“I worry I’m that way too.”
Now I really laugh. “You give yourself heaps to worry about.”
Cal chuckles. “I do, don’t I?”
And then things loosen up between us. He tells me a little bit more about Kayla as I direct him to where I live just outside of town.
As he pulls into the driveway, I see for the first time how small my studio apartment above the detached garage is.
You can’t even see it from the road, which is why I chose it.
At the time, it felt private and quiet. Exactly what I needed.
Now its small windows on either side of the metal front door and the deck with stairs on each end look too much like a frowning face. Sad and lonely.
“You can grab your stuff and come with me to my appointments if you want.” He sends the dark apartment a wary look. “Or I can come back around for you.”
“I’m gonna need a minute.” I’m hot and sweaty and really need a shower. Plus, I’m still wearing Cassidy’s clothes. “I could just drive myself out to your place.”
Then I remember my car is still at Flamingo’s.
“If you want to come back round, and take me to my car at Flamingo’s, I can follow you back to the ranch…” I draw my eyes to Cal’s.
I should leave Serenity right now, while things are still easy. I can still make a clean break—mostly. But I don’t know where to go yet, and I don’t want to be alone in my apartment.
“As long as you’re sure about me staying,” I add to give Cal an out. “It’ll only be for a couple more days, at most.”
“I was being honest when I said you can stay as long as you want.” Cal’s eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“You can’t say we’re just friends and look at me like that.”
“What are you accusing me of? I’m just being me.” He’s no actor, and his smolder says he very much knows what he’s doing.
“Yeah, nah. Keep your smolder to yourself, Callahan Holloway. You want things to stay friendly, don’t try using that on me again.” I slide out of the truck and smile back at him. “See you in a bit, friend.”
Still smoldering hotter than a dying campfire, Cal adds his lopsided grin. “Yep. Text you when I’m on my way.”
With a snort, I close the door, but my knees are wobbly as I walk to my front door. It takes a cold shower to stiffen them up again.
Staying at the Holloways is risky, and I’m not gonna fool myself into thinking it’s not. I’m in danger of falling hard for Cal and his entire family. So, my focus over the next couple days has to be on where I go from here.
The first step toward that is getting back to being Frankie. Whoever she may be, she’s not a server at a diner anymore. I won’t be wearing anymore wigs or cat-eye glasses. No more heavy makeup, either.
For the first time since coming to Serenity Cove, I take more than a few minutes to fix my hair.
I spend an hour scrunching and shaping my auburn curls into photo-shoot-ready perfection.
Instead of the layers of heavy makeup to hide who I am, I apply light, natural makeup that matches my skin tone and brings out my eyes.
I have some time before Cal comes back, so I search my closet for what to pack. My favorite pair of jeans. A cream-colored shirt that brings out the green in my eyes. I pull clothes I’ve ignored for years from my closet and drawers while I text back and forth in the ANM chat, updating everyone.
I’ve just finished packing when there’s a knock at the door. Clothes are everywhere, but I check my phone and see that Cal texted to say he’s on his way. I throw open my closet door and check the mirror hanging inside, and smile at my reflection. My place may be a mess, but at least I’m not.
“Come in!” I yell and grab a lip gloss.
The closet door blocks my view, but I hear Cal walk in. “Ignore the vibe. It’s ‘woman on the run’ chic,” I say while dabbing on the gloss.
“Not your best look, but I’m just happy to see you again.”
I stop what I’m doing and look around the door, hoping I’m wrong about who’s voice I just heard.
I’m not.
Cal’s not standing in the doorway.
Brandon McVey is.