Chapter 25
Cal
Junie’s fourth birthday includes sandcastles, balloons, and birthday cake with the family, followed by a party with her preschool friends on Saturday. A few more days pass until an entire week has gone by without hearing from Frankie again. My texts go unanswered, and I don’t try calling.
But I do notice the construction at Sanctuary stops. The trucks are gone. The entrance to the beach is open. Mom and Dad don’t hear anything else after refusing Wild Coast’s lower offer for their avocados and beef.
More weeks pass, and regular school hours are back in session at Miss Merry’s. Monday morning, I drop off Junie and head to Flamingo’s by myself for the first time in months. It’s still not the same without Frankie. But even though I’m reminded of her everywhere I look, I like the company there.
I slide into the seat next to Barry’s, in the middle of the Oatmeal Mafia. I’m pretty sure they’re trying to recruit me. They’ve suggested I change my name to Gary. I’m considering.
Barry sets his Barry’s Bait and Tackle hat on the counter between us and smooths his hair—what little there is of it. “You know, my granddaughter’s coming to town, Gary.”
“Name’s still Cal, Barry. Haven’t officially changed it.” I hold up my coffee cup for Lindsay, the new waitress, to fill.
Although, I guess she’s not so new anymore.
“How you doing, Cal?” She flutters her fake eyelashes at me.
She’s cute but seeing her in the blond beehive wig just makes me wish it were Frankie wearing it.
“Good. Thanks.” I try not to make eye contact.
Her overt flirting makes me uncomfortable every time I come in. I might not mind it if she were good with Junie, but she’s not. She treats Junie like she’s an annoying appendage I’m planning to have removed.
“You remember her, right?” Barry asks.
“Who?” I’m grateful for someone else to look at besides Lindsay, but I have no idea what Barry’s talking about
“Emily. My granddaughter.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I nod.
I mentioned a few days ago that I hadn’t heard from Frankie. I guess the matchmaking to fill her place has begun.
Emily and I ran with some of the same kids in high school, but never really connected. She’s pretty. I should consider asking her out. But how would that be fair to her if I can’t stop thinking about Frankie?
“Let me think about it, Barry.”
“You know, Gary, I’ve got a niece,” Larry leans forward to tell me. “Jennifer.”
“Yeah, Lar. She used to be my babysitter.” I don’t bother looking at him. Jennifer’s at least ten years older than me and is in a committed relationship with a woman.
“Hey Cal…” Gerry says next to me.
“Yeah, Ger?” I’m ready to be offered a distant cousin or a neighbor’s brother’s sister-in-law’s daughter, but at least he called me by my name.
Instead, he passes me a copy of this morning’s edition of LA Daily. “Did you see this?”
I assume he means the newspaper itself since I can’t remember the last time I actually read one in print instead of on a screen. But then I notice the headline. “Billionaire Malcolm Forsythe dead at 55.”
I start to read the article when Gerry flips the newsletter and points to the story below the Malcolm Forsythe article. “Another Resort. Same Broken Promises.” Written by Brandon McVey.
I don’t have to read it to sus out what it says.
I do anyway.
“Is that why she disappeared so fast?” Gerry asks after I refold the paper and pass it back to him.
I shake my head. “She's a silent partner. She doesn’t have any part in what Sanctuary is doing.”
“That’s not what the article says. Sounds like she knew it was coming and wanted to get ahead of it.” Under the anger in Gerry’s voice there’s hurt and betrayal.
I see the same thing on the faces of every local in Flamingo’s.
“I don’t think so.” I curl my fingers into my palms, grasping to keep hold of my faith in Frankie’s promise to fix what Wild Coast is doing. “That doesn’t really sound like her, does it? She stopped Rancho Mirage from ruining our town. I think she’s got a soft spot for us.”
“I think she forgot all about us the minute she went back to her old life.” Gerry stabs at his eggs. The rest of the Mafia nods their agreement.
Before they sway me to their side, I take out my phone to text Frankie, doubting she’ll reply, but I’ve still got to check on her.
You okay? Saw the stories in the Daily.
I eat slow, checking my messages every few minutes. I sip my coffee, listen to Larry, Barry, and Gerry rag each other with Flo joining in. It’s all background noise. I consider calling. I even pick up the phone to do it. Then I set it back down.
I don’t hear back.
I can’t ignore the signs anymore. Frankie’s silence means one thing. She wants distance. She’s moved on.
I have to let her go—especially since Junie has stopped asking to watch Frankie’s video every day. She talks about Frankie’s happy birthday call, but she hasn’t asked to see her. She’s stopped asking when Frankie’s coming back.
So maybe it’s time I move on too.
I push out of my seat and toss a twenty on the counter at the same time bells on the door announce someone coming in.
Everything goes quiet. I look over my shoulder, following everyone’s eyes to the door. To the woman standing there, eyes hidden behind big sunglasses and her hair tucked under my camo Barry’s Bait and Tackle hat.
No one moves. We all know who she is.
Frankie slides off the sunglasses. Her eyes are tear-streaked, but she offers a tentative smile and a soft hello.
Then her eyes go to mine.
“My dad died. I didn’t know where else to go.” Her voice breaks, and I rush to her.
With a sob, she falls into my arms, and I guide her to the back.
Flo points to her office like I need direction.
But I’m already headed there. I shut the door and lean against it.
Silence hangs over us like a heavy curtain ready to drop.
All I can do is stare across the room at Frankie, feeling guilty about how happy I am when she’s so sad.
But she’s here, and I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
“I’m sorry, Cal. I shouldn’t have come back after I ghosted you, but I didn’t know where else to go.” She drops her eyes to the gumball machine and runs her hand over its glass globe as a tear streams down her cheek.
“I’m glad you came.” I resist the urge to move closer. I can't tell who's more skittish, Frankie or me.
She wipes away her tear. “I didn’t think Malcolm’s death would hit me this hard. Things were always so rough with him, but we loved each other in our own way, I guess.” She sniffs, then locks her eyes on mine. “You’re the only person I knew who’d understand what that feels like”
“Yeah,” I nod and tuck my hands behind my back, pressing my palms into the door, determined to stay where I am until she’s said everything she needs to. No matter how much I want to hold her.
She lets out a long, staggered breath, then paces the room, walking back and forth across the ten feet. “It’s just… it’s so complicated. All these feelings. There’s relief, but also so much sadness. Like I shouldn’t miss him. But I do. You know what I mean?”
Her eyes find mine again. They remind me of the tide pools at the cove, shining green with trapped water. They pull me closer. I want to see everything in their depths.
“Yeah. That’s how I felt when Kayla died. We shared all of this history, good and bad.”
Frankie nods. “Exactly. Why does it have to be so complicated?”
I lift my shoulders and hold out my hand. “Relationships always are.”
She takes my hand and steps into my arms, resting there with a sigh. “What do I do next?”
I kiss the top of her head, then lay my cheek there. “You stay here. Just take it a day at a time.”
She shakes her head against my chest. “I was trying not to come back, Cal. I wanted to let you go…for your own good. For Junie’s.”
“Neither of us wants to be let go, Frankie.”
She steps back, but only far enough to look at me. “Things aren’t going to be less complicated. Are you sure this is what you want?”
I pull Frankie back into my arms. “We’ll figure that out later. Right now, let’s just get you to the ranch.”
“Okay.” She lets out another staggered breath then smiles softly, lifting her chin in an invitation.
Gently, my mouth meets hers with a relief that’s sweet and slow like we have all the time in the world to fall into this kiss, to discover everything we’ve held back from each other. We don’t have to be careful anymore. Frankie’s back, and I won’t let anything take her away from me again.
“I’ve missed you,” I say, taking my kiss deeper.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Frankie’s voice hitches as I trace my lips across her jaw, and sweet and slow threatens to grow into something else.
“We should really go.” My voice is hoarse as I find her mouth again.
She pulls away long enough to say, “we really should,” before kissing me again.
But we don’t leave until I’ve kissed her hard enough to convince her to stay for good…
I hope.