Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
J ack walked in behind Harper as Frankie was adding creamer to her coffee. She took a sip before speaking. “Morning, Jack.”
“Yes, it is. Bright and blue, best kind.” He was all smiles. “Boats are gone.”
Frankie nodded. “That has to feel good. Being left alone, I mean.”
“It is,” he said.
The toast popped up. Frankie used bamboo tongs to remove it, putting two pieces each onto the plates Harper had gotten out.
He watched her. “Am I interrupting breakfast? I am, aren’t I. I’m sorry, man. I just came over to say I was sorry for all you’ve had to go through with the photographers out there and thanks for not kicking me out.”
Harper put her hand on his arm. “Jack, you’re the one who had to put up with it. They weren’t here for us.”
“I know, but still. It’s an invasion of your privacy, too, you know?” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with it.”
Frankie unscrewed the lid to the almond butter and got a knife out. She had to ask. “This doesn’t mean you’re leaving us, does it?”
He took a breath. “Not yet. If that’s all right. After what Angie did for Mitch, I’m going to send him to San Diego to see about handling things with Monica for me.”
Frankie looked at Harper, who was shaking her head. “What did Angelo do for Mitch?”
“I don’t know,” Harper said.
Jack answered. “Got him and Kyle full custody of Ruthie, man. Angie got Addison to sign the papers.”
Frankie’s mouth fell open. “That’s incredible.”
“I’ll say.” Harper looked as amazed as Frankie felt. “When did this happen?"
“Just,” Jack said. “Angie got back late last night. He texted me that he could concentrate on my case now, if I needed anything else, and after we talked, I decided to get him to do the same for me.”
“Wait,” Harper said, brow furrowing. “Are you saying you’re offering Monica some kind of settlement not to post those pictures?”
Frowning, he nodded. “I know it’s like admitting I’m guilty but—”
“No.” Harper crossed her arms. “I don’t think you should do this, Jack. It definitely makes you look guilty. And that could come back to bite you. What’s to stop her from asking for more money? She could be after you the rest of your life.”
It wasn’t Frankie’s business, but she’d come to care about Jack. “I agree with Harper. If the paparazzi came after you just because you were on vacation, what will they do to you if they find out about this?”
Jack’s morose expression nearly broke her heart. “What else am I going to do, man? I’m stuck.”
Frankie’s mothering instincts came out, even if the man was nearly her age. “I don’t know, Jack. But we’ll figure something out. Won’t we, Harper?”
Harper nodded. “We will. Just give us a day or two, okay? Don’t have Angelo do anything yet. Please.”
He swallowed. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks, man. I’m sorry.”
“You know what you need?” Frankie said. “Some breakfast. Sit down.” She started spreading almond butter on the toast. “Harper, get him a cup of coffee.”
Harper smirked and did as she was told.
Jack took a seat at the counter.
“You good with almond butter and honey on toast?”
Jack nodded. “Sounds great. You guys are so nice.”
Frankie laughed. “We’re just human beings taking care of another human being.”
He smiled and settled into the seat a little more. “How’s the painting coming?”
“It’s all right,” Frankie said. She drizzled honey over two slices of the almond buttered toast and set the plate in front of him.
Harper added a cup of coffee, setting the creamer and sugar next to it.
“Could I see it?” Jack asked. He spooned sugar into his coffee.
Frankie’s mouth opened, but she didn’t have an immediate answer. It was one thing for family to see the painting in such a raw state, another for it to be viewed by the man who was paying good money for it. He might not understand the process. Might think she should be further along. Or that it should look different.
“Hey,” Harper said, leaning on the counter near him. “Don’t you have a blanket to knit?”
“Yeah, but—”
“It’s okay,” Frankie said softly. “I understand wanting to have a look, it’s just that the painting is in the early stages, and it doesn’t look like much. I don’t know if you’d…like what you saw.”
He’d taken a big bite of toast. He chewed, gaze thoughtful, only speaking when his mouth was empty. “I get it, man. I don’t like too many people on set, especially when I’m feeling my way into a character, you know what I mean? I was just curious. About the process and how it becomes a painting. Like the mechanics of the creative way.”
She hesitated. “As long as you understand that it’s really rough. And that it takes time and a lot of tweaking to get it to where I want it to be.”
His nod was solemn. He put his hand on his heart. “I swear I won’t say a thing, man. I’m just curious. That’s all. I respect art and the artist deeply.” He picked up his toast again. “This is killer, by the way. Can you teach me to make this?”
Frankie laughed. “It’s just toast with almond butter and honey.”
“Nothing else? Crazy. I could have sworn I tasted cinnamon.”
Harper picked up the jar of almond butter and looked at it. “That’s because this is cinnamon almond butter.”
“Cool, cool.”
Frankie put the plate with the other two slices in front of her sister. “Here, eat this. I’ll make more for myself.”
“Thanks.” Harper immediately went to work eating.
“More what?” Willa asked as she came down the steps. She suddenly grinned, all sleepiness gone. “Hey, Jack. I didn’t know you were having breakfast with us this morning.”
“Teacher Willa.” Jack smiled back at her. “I sort of barged in and took over, man. But your mom and aunt are being super chill about it.”
“Cool.” She looked at the toast he and Harper were eating. “Can I get some of that?”
“Sure,” Frankie said. She had to make some for herself anyway. She put four more slices into the toaster and got it started.
Willa sat next to Jack. “Can I have some coffee, too?”
Frankie gave her daughter a look.
“Please,” Willa added.
With an amused sigh, Frankie got her a cup.
Harper finished one piece of toast and picked up her plate. “I’m taking this in with me. I have to get ready.” She went toward the bedroom.
“Where’s she going?” Willa asked as she tipped the creamer into her cup.
“Mitch’s,” Frankie answered.
“Hey, how was that chocolate chip banana bread? Outrageous, right?” Jack said. “That Joyce, she’s something else.”
Willa nodded. “Did you see her and Beryl on Lucas’s show? They were so funny! Not sure they meant to be, but I could binge about twenty episodes of them before I even thought about watching something else.”
“I did see it,” Jack said. “I’ve watched it twice, actually.”
The toast popped up. Frankie had plates ready. She took the slices out and slathered them with almond butter. “The boats are gone.”
“No, they’re not,” Willa said. “I looked before I came down.”
Jack sighed. “That didn’t last long.”
Frankie added the honey. “I guess it was just a temporary reprieve. Sorry, Jack.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “It’s getting old, man. Real old.”
She gave a plate to Willa before picking up a piece off her own plate and having a bite. It was good. Simple and easy and hopefully a little healthier than the banana bread they’d devoured last night.
Harper came back out in shorts, a T-shirt, and flipflops. Her phone was in one hand, her toast plate in the other. She put the plate in the sink. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than an hour or so. Archie had a nice long walk and time at the dog park this morning, so he should be fine until I get back.”
Willa picked up her coffee cup. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Thanks. You want to go to the beach this afternoon? Or earlier maybe, like when I get back?”
“Yeah, totally,” Willa said.
“I might invite Prisha, too.”
“I’m good with that.”
Harper tucked her phone into her back pocket. “Jack, you want to come? It’s just going to be a chill, casual thing. Probably just laying out and reading, maybe a little time in the water, maybe a little walking.”
His gaze shifted toward the river. “If we can get there without the paps seeing me, I’d be in for some sand and surf, man.”
Harper frowned. “I thought the paps were gone?”
Frankie made a face. “Only temporarily, apparently. They’re back now.”
Harper rolled her eyes in frustration. “Great.” She touched Jack’s arm. “Listen, we’ll figure out what to do about Monica, okay?”
He nodded. “Tell Mitch I said hey.”
“I will. Bye.” She went down the steps and out the door.
Frankie finished up her toast, then put all the plates into the dishwasher. She filled a big stainless-steel tumbler with ice water to take downstairs with her. She looked at Jack. “You want to see how the painting is coming along?”
“I really do.”
“Come on then.” She gestured at Willa. “Wipe down the counters and put everything else away, please.”
Willa lifted her coffee cup in acknowledgement. “Will do.”
Frankie headed downstairs with Jack in tow. He walked right to the painting. She watched the boats on the river, trying to determine if they could see through the windows but there was no indication from the photographers that they could.
Jack stood in front of the canvas shaking his head.
She inched closer, watching his face, wondering if he was going to say anything despite telling her he wouldn’t.
He smiled. “I can see my dad in this already. Man.” He sniffed. “This is good, Frankie. Really good.”
She exhaled in relief, now eager to get back to work. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for letting me see this. It does something to the soul to see there’s still beauty in the world.” He backed away. “Can I see it again tomorrow?"
She nodded. “You can come see it anytime you like.”
He pulled out his phone. “You mind if I take a picture?”
“Are you…going to share it online?”
“I was going to. Do you not want me to?”
She hesitated. “It’s your commission. You can do whatever you like. It’s just…”
“I know, man. It’s not done and you’re worried about what people might think. That they’re going to judge the pyramid by the sand it’s built on. I get that.” He put his phone down. “I can hold off, if you want, man. I’m down with that.”
She lifted her chin. This was no way to promote her business. Jackson Marsh wanted to share her work on social media, and she was balking because of what people might think. “Can you tag me in it?”
He grinned. “Cool, cool.” He brought his phone back up. “Let the tagging commence.”