Chapter 23
Frankie
Clutching my mobile in front of me, I pace across the plush beige carpet in the too-large bedroom I’ve been assigned at Malcolm’s house. I stare at the screen, waiting for Cal’s face to appear.
It’s selfish to ring Cal. It’s an even worse idea to FaceTime him.
Terrible, in fact. I’m not so oblivious to my motives that I can ignore the fact ringing Cal has less to do with wanting to tell Junie happy birthday than with wanting to be reminded there are girls who adore their dads.
And that there are men as good as Cal in the world.
At last, his face appears, but not with the excitement I’d hoped for.
“Hey,” he says, his brow pulled deep in an unasked question.
“Hi.” When my smile doesn’t prompt one from him, I quickly tuck mine away. “I’m sorry to call right now. I just…you said you were going to spend the day with Junie, and I wanted to wish her a happy birthday.”
His brow dips further.
“I know that could stir things up for you, so no pressure—say no if you’d rather not.”
The silence on his end isn’t great. We haven’t talked since last week, but we’ve texted.
I kinda thought he wouldn’t mind my talking to Junie.
Kinda hoped he’d also want to talk to me.
As hard as I’ve tried to create distance between us—to keep things friendly and casual—all I’ve created is empty space that’s impossible to fill with anything but thoughts of him.
Finally, Cal’s mouth twists to the side before he says. “Sure. Give me a second.”
Then his face is gone, replaced with a view of asphalt accompanied by what sounds like clanging metal. A few more seconds of noise and a panoramic view of what looks like a parking garage before his face appears again.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“At the cove.”
“The cove? Really? Looks like a garage.”
“We’re parked at the hotel.” His voice is tight, but I can’t tell if his frustration is directed at me or something else.
“Sanctuary?”
There aren’t any other hotels at the cove, so the answer is obvious, but it’s weird Cal would pay for parking at the hotel when it’s not the fastest or closest way to get to the beach.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Couldn’t find any free spaces, and the trail to the cove is blocked.” Cal doesn’t quite look me in the eye.
“Daddy, let’s go!” Junie says in the background.
“Hold on, Bug. Someone wants to talk to you.” Cal sets down the phone again, capturing a view of the concrete ceiling and dim lights.
When he appears again, it’s only for a second. “Here she is.”
And then Junie’s there, sitting on the tailgate of Cal’s truck, bright blue bucket hat pulled down to her ears and dark pigtails peeking out from under the brim.
“Frankie!” she shouts when she sees me.
There’s some fumbling with the phone, and then her face again, very, very close up. Close enough that most of what’s visible is her toothy grin.
I’ll take it. My own cheeks pull back just as tight, I’m so happy to see her. “Happy birthday, Junie!”
“Are you coming to my birthday party?” she asks.
Her question both opens and breaks my heart. I shake my head. “I wish I could, I’ve gotta stay here for now and help my dad. But I’d like to see you as soon as I can.”
I can’t see Cal’s face, but I hope he hears me and knows Junie’s not the only one I want to see.
“We can come visit you, right Daddy?”
I let out a sad laugh, picturing Junie running through this silent, cold house. Not even Junie’s sunshine could chase away the shadows that lurk in its many hallways and rooms.
But I don’t have the heart to tell her no. “We’ll see, love. Maybe I’ll come visit you first. We can go to the beach together. I could show you how to surf. You’d like that, yeah?”
She shakes her head. “No. I too little.”
“I started when I was your age, Bug. But we can wait till you’re bigger,” I say, but she’s already pointing the camera in different directions to show me her beach chair and sand toys and whatever else catches her fancy.
The one thing she doesn’t show me is the someone I’d like to see most.
“Tell Frankie thank you for calling and say goodbye.” Cal’s deep voice rumbles off screen.
For the first time since I met her, Junie actually does what Cal asks and tells me goodbye. Disappointment sparks in my chest, then spreads like wildfire. I haven’t had enough time with her. I haven’t had any time with Cal.
Just as I’m about to end the call, his face appears on screen. “Sorry to cut things short.”
He doesn’t make any excuses or give any explanation. He doesn’t need to. He’s got a good reason—Junie’s birthday—but he’s giving off weird vibes.
“Is everything okay, Cal?” I open my bedroom door and step onto a balcony overlooking the backyard and pool. It’s too hot to sit out there today, but the flowers blooming cheer me up. “I’m sorry if I made things harder by ringing you. I just… dunno. I wanted to see her face…see if she looks older.”
The corner of his mouth tugs. “Does she?”
I nod. “Sounds older too.”
“Daddy, let me talk to Frankie again.”
The screen blurs with what I reckon is Junie’s fingers, and there’s more fumbling while Cal tells Junie to give his mobile back to him. I get dizzy from the motion on the screen. Then Junie starts crying, and I feel even worse about calling.
“I better go,” Cal says from somewhere off screen.
“Yeah. ‘Course. No worries.”
But, instead of pushing end, he’s back. He looks me in the eye—or at least tries through the screen—then bites his bottom lip.
“Frankie…do you know what Sanctuary is doing?”
“Doing about what? I don’t follow.”
For the first time on our call, he seems to relax. Not a lot, but enough to soothe my own worries. “They’re keeping locals from the beach and canceling contracts with local growers and ranchers, including my parents.”
“They’re not supposed to do that.” Frankie Forsythe now playing the part of Captain Obvious. “We have agreements with them.”
Cal lifts his shoulders. “Yeah. They’re breaking them. They don’t want Holloway avocados or beef.” He bites his lip again, which is maddeningly attractive right when he’s got no business being such. “And Brandon McVey’s the one digging up the information.”
Brandon’s name hits like a punch to the gut. I close my eyes. “He’s been ringing me, but I’ve ignored him. I should have kept him blocked.”
“Is this story his way of getting your attention?” Cal’s voice lowers to soft, protective growl, which, again…maddeningly attractive at exactly the wrong time.
“Reckon it could be.”
“Daddy!” Junie yells in the background. “Let me talk to Frankie!”
Cal sighs and mumbles, “Birthday girl’s getting in all of her bad behaviors today.” Then points the camera toward Junie.
“Hi, Frankie!” She waves her chubby little hand right and left. “Now can you visit?”
I swallow hard; shake my head. “No, love, but soon.” Then I blow her a kiss and end the call before Cal can come back on.
Once again, my mess of a life is impacting him.
Not just with parking at the beach. When I went to the Wild Coast Investment Group about developing Sanctuary, I made sure the local farmers and ranchers who would have been put out of business by Rancho Mirage were offered contracts with Sanctuary.
I knew local producers had spent profits they couldn’t spare to fight BIG and Rancho Mirage.
I wanted to make sure they got at least some of that money back.
The Holloways were one of those families. I helped them pick the avocados meant for Sanctuary.
Couldn't tell ya how bad this blow will be for them, but it won’t be good.
I slide the door shut, trapping the heat I’ve let inside. Malcolm gets cold so easily that, despite the August temps, the aircon’s not on. Even with a ceiling fan running, the air is hot and suffocating.
I make it across the room once before I text Cal.
I keep making a mess of things. I promise I’ll fix this.
The next person I ring is Bran, who answers a lot quicker than Cal did.
“Hey, babe. I wondered when you’d call me back.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He’s silent for half a beat before pushing out a loud breath. “I guess you’ve heard about the story, then?”
“Don’t do this to me again, Bran.” I’m not pleading with him. I’m ordering.
“I can’t walk away, Frankie, not when farmers in Serenity asked for my help. They reached out to me. I tried calling to tell you Wild Coast was breaking contracts. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”
I clutch my mobile tighter. “I didn’t know. But is that going to keep you from putting my name in your story?”
“Fran,” he sighs, and I picture him closing his eyes, trying to stay patient with me and my inability to comprehend how important his work is.
“My job as a reporter is to tell the truth without bias. No matter what. I can’t keep your name out of this story just because of our connection.
I made that mistake with the BIG story, remember? ”
I used to love how calm and assured Brandon was when he talked about his job.
Now all I hear in his voice is maneuvering to justify hurting me. To make it my fault, just like he did last time.
“What Wild Coast is doing is wrong. They should be stopped. But don’t play like truth is your reason for chasing this story.
” I pause…wait for him to fill in the rest. When he doesn’t, I do it for him.
“What is it you really want? Are you looking for money to keep you from publishing this story? No idea where I'd get it if you are.”
It feels like a lifetime before he answers. “I don’t want money. I want you. I want to try again, Fran. I still love you. We could unravel what Wild Coast is doing together.”
There’s sincerity in his answer. I do believe he loves me.
But I’ve opened the door wide for him to admit he asked for money from Malcolm in exchange for not writing any more stories about him.
Not only that, but he’s also given me the same argument he gave me when he asked me to marry him.
That time around, he promised we’d take down BIG and Malcolm.