Chapter 17
Frankie
My yawn threatens towake up the whole house. Wearing Jude’s tee shirt and a pair of soft cotton pants, I pad down the stairs with Ashe on my heels. The kitchen lights jolt me awake as I flip them on, moving easily into my new routine despite being half asleep.
Jude finally conceded on the breakfast issue and gives me a wide berth to prep our first meal without his grumbling ass.
I have to admit, he’s been less of an ass lately, and I never minded the grumbly parts in the first place. In fact, I like the grumbly parts more than I want to admit. The way his voice sounds, deeper and raspy, when he’s entered a verbal sparring match with me, brings up fond memories.
I fail to stifle another loud yawn as I flip over the fried eggs. Bacon sizzles in a separate pan. Ashe settles next to my feet, only raising her head when the toast pops up, ready for a pat of butter.
We were up late last night. A new hound came in, and it would seem the poor baby is terrified of storms. The long rain last night had plenty of thunder that sent the scared boy into howling cries for half the night. No matter what Jude and I tried to do—and we tried everything—it didn’t help.
In the end, a little medication is the only thing that calmed him down.
He might be in for a rough week with all the spring storms in the forecast. I wish I could do more to keep him comfortable.
Jude’s footsteps creep down the stairs. The slowness speaks to his own sleep deprivation. We didn’t wind up going to our respective beds until well after two.
I busy myself with pouring us both cups of coffee. I turn groggily and bump into Jude’s warm, broad chest. The liquid just barely misses sloshing over the rim.
“Oh, sorry,” I mumble. “Here.”
With his eyes half closed, Jude takes the cup and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek. He freezes, his breath ghosting against my skin, and my lungs stutter as heat spreads from the spot his lips touched.
He recovers first.
“Thanks,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice gritty, and walks out the other door just like any other regular morning to free the dogs for their kibble and potty.
Except this isn’t a regular morning.
Jude just kissed my cheek like… like we’re an old married couple.
At the very least, like two people dating each other.
Or siblings.
The thought wakes me like a plunge in an icy lake.
Was that a platonic thank-you kiss?
Did I get friend-zoned somewhere in the past few days, and I missed it? Did my breath stink or my deodorant wear off last night?
It didn’t feel platonic. The kiss felt automatic. By rote. As if finding me in his kitchen in my pajamas is a welcome sight first thing in the morning, and he didn’t mean to lean in, but he did because he’s used to me in his space.
I fix us both plates in a dizzy fog and pack up the leftovers before he’s returned. I lower my gaze to my food as his footsteps near.
“You get the day off today.”
My gaze snaps to his. “Oh.”
“Last night was a shit show, and there’s nothing special scheduled today. I have a training session with Juniper, then a meeting with Lee and Corjan to go over some budgeting.”
“What about the dogs?” I brave a glance at him. His dark hair falls wild over his forehead. Combating the ache to brush it off, I clench my fork tighter.
“Sarah will be here to clean kennels and can help with whatever we need. My brothers are able to step in too.”
Sarah is one of the Sanctuary employees. I met her briefly, but usually their part-time staff only come by when Jude needs to leave or the workload is heavy. Between him and his five siblings, they have most of the work covered.
“In that case, do you mind if I take your van into town? I’d like to explore.”
“Will I get it back?”
I carry my dish to the sink and rinse it. “You did the last time. Besides, too many people have met me now. I wouldn’t get far if I stole it again.”
“I’ll leave the spare keys out on the counter.”
“Thanks. I better get ready. Unless you need me for anything?” I pause at the exit, waiting for a request I know won’t come.
“Go have fun.” The piercing look in his eyes, very non-platonic in nature, sends me scampering from the room.
After a lazy shower, I dress quickly in a brown, oversized knitted sweater and jeans. The spare keys are right where Jude promised. Beside them is a scrap of paper and an envelope. A peek reveals a stack of cash, the size disproportionate to the work I’ve done for him. I yank out a $20 dollar bill and search for a place to hide the rest.
There’s a cabinet above the fridge. I shove aside a fake plant and rise onto tiptoe to swing open the door.
I stifle a laugh in my bicep. Oh, Jude. I found your secret snack stash. Tucking the envelope in the corner, I return to flat feet. We’ll see if he notices the little addition the next time he needs to satisfy a craving.
As I pick up the keys, I read the note.
Call if you need anything.
-J
I tuckthe paper in my pocket and drive myself into town.
I decide to park on the street at the entrance to the main road so that I can walk and browse on one side and return on the other.
The overcast day is warm enough to forgo a jacket but gray enough that I miss the sun. I slide on a pair of black sunglasses from Jude’s center console and meander down the sidewalk.
The fresh air feels good and clears the cobwebs from my mind. I could do with a nap later. I imagine staying up with a howling puppy is not far off from staying up with a crying child. While I didn’t hate the experience, I can’t say I’m exactly ready to run full steam ahead into motherhood.
With Dillon in the rearview, I can breathe freely knowing the pressure to have kids won’t exist in my near future.
Frustration burns inside me at the thought of my past relationship and all that I can’t remember. The idea of a conversation that I took part in missing from my memories is annoying at best and terrifying on the other end of the spectrum.
I’m trying to move on the best that I can knowing I might never know what happened and feel firm about my choice to start over here. I’m lucky. The damage could have been much worse. I could have forgotten people or entire periods of time. No matter what Dillon says, I know in my gut I can’t trust him. Whatever happened in that car was bad. That more than solidifies my desire to move on.
I stop near the window of a flower shop, gazing inside at the colorful assortment of petals on display.
Dillon never bought me flowers. Not once in the two years we were together.
I bet Jude would buy me flowers. I wouldn’t even have to ask.
The image of the grump handing me a bouquet with a scowl on his face lightens my thoughts.
Jude would definitely buy me flowers.
With a smile still tilting my lips, I move down to the next business. The corner houses the town library, but it doesn’t open for another hour.
I timed my little jaunt downtown too early, but it doesn’t matter. I can browse the library any time. This is about getting to know the little town I plan to call home without being solely dependent on Jude.
A cute diner sits across the street. Planters filled with vibrant flowers frame the door. I slow my pace and peer inside at the customers enjoying an early breakfast. This seems to be one of the few places open at this early hour, and despite just having my own meal, I contemplate treating myself to a pastry behind the glass counter.
If only my stomach had a little more room. I pull myself away with a reluctant sigh and accidentally crash into someone trying to enter the restaurant.
“I’m sorry!”
“Frankie?” Jude’s mom catches me by the elbows and holds me at arm’s length. “I thought that was you.”
“Hi, Mrs. Powell. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Through my embarrassment, I manage a genuine smile.
“Stop that. Call me Nancy. How are you doing, dear?”
A critical eye scans me from head to toe. One perfected after years of studying her six children.
“I’m doing well. Just getting some fresh air this morning.”
“Where’s Jude?”
I wonder how much he’s told her. She obviously knows I’m staying with him. A harsh blush paints my cheeks as I realize she probably thinks we’re sleeping together. That’s the obvious assumption when two adults shack up with each other, right?
I lick my dry lips. “He’s at the Sanctuary. He has some business this morning so I thought I’d check out the town.”
“Then I have to take you for breakfast. I was just about to grab something to eat.” She links her arm with mine.
“Oh, I’d love to, but I’ve already eaten.”
She smiles brightly and tows me toward the door. “Coffee, then. My treat.”
Great. She probably knows I don’t have much freaking money. I’m instantly touched by her generosity and quest for companionship. When was the last time I sat down with my own mother for a meal, let alone simply a coffee? Injecting gratitude into my voice, I say, “Thank you.”
We’re seated on the patio at a small two-top.
“How’s your arm healing?” Nancy asks after we place our orders.
“It feels good. I have an appointment in two weeks to see about taking the cast off.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Oh, um…” I fidget with the hem of my sweater. “I’m sure I can take Jude’s van.” Not that we’ve discussed my future needs much, but after this morning, I don’t think he’ll protest. Unless he needs it.
Her white hair swishes around her chin with a assertive nod. “Feel free to call me if plans change. I’m happy to help.”
“I appreciate that. I’m not used to having so many people around. It’s a little overwhelming,” I blurt. I fight the desire to curl in on myself and straighten my shoulders instead. Something about this woman’s presence encourages me to let go of the little insecurities I’ve developed over the years. The self-reliance, do-it-myself, and sarcasm are all products of my upbringing. A survival mode I was forced to become accustomed to.
Nancy laughs warmly. “They’re an eager bunch when they see a problem to fix. I bet if I locked them in an escape room, they’d find a way out in fifteen minutes.”
“They all seem to genuinely like each other. Whatever you did, you raised them right.”
She hums and leans back as our coffee is served.
“It wasn’t always that way. Goodness, those children fought dirty growing up. It’s a miracle nobody wound up in the hospital. The tempers on some of them, rightfully so for how horrible some of their parents were.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Damn right, it was hard.” Pride shines through her voice. “Parenting is supposed to be hard. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. If parenting is easy, your kids are lying to you or you’re lying to yourself.”
I sip my hot coffee while she continues.
“It’s easy to ignore your kids. It’s easy to pretend you don’t see something is wrong. It’s easy to send them to their room rather than work out the problem. The only easy part of parenting is loving them.”
“I think the proof is in the adults you’ve raised.”
“I’d like to think so.” She raises her cup to her lips. “Jude’s special.”
My throat convulses on a swallow. “He is.”
“He can be intense and withdrawn. I’m sure you know that.”
The porcelain handle of my mug is smooth beneath my fingertip. “He isn’t exactly secretive about it.”
“I don’t presume to know what your relationship entails, but I do know my son. If you find yourself needing a little space, well, like you said, there are a lot of us around who would be happy to help. It’s okay to take care of your needs too.”
The muscles surrounding my spine tense. “Jude’s been nothing but kind. Sure, he’s a little surly, but he’s respectful and a good, decent man.”
She raises her palm toward me. “Please don’t misunderstand. I love my son, and it thrills me as his mother to hear you come to his defense.” Her eyes twinkle, a secret knowledge brewing within the depths. “I’m trying to look out for you, too, Frankie.”
“Oh.” I sit back and brush a strand of hair away from my lips. “I’m doing okay. I’m happy where I am.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. When Jude told me about the woman he found alone on his property, well, I’m sure you can understand I had concerns. For you. I can only imagine the kind of scenarios that landed you in your situation.”
The sting of tears irritates my lash line. The motherly concern emanating from this woman feels like the warmest blanket after a night in the cold. It’s foreign, yet it speaks to a deep part of me. Something I’ve kept buried for so long.
My voice fails me. I manage a weak nod.
Nancy gently pats my hand. “I’m happy to have met you. I do hope you stick around so we can do this again.”
“I’d like that,” I whisper hoarsely.
A light breeze floats across the patio, pushing our hair into our eyes.
“Oh goodness, I can’t wait for the sun to come back out. I have so much gardening to do.”
“You like to garden?” I think back to the flowers I walked past an hour ago.
“My husband and I picked up the hobby when he was still alive. My flower boxes are looking dreadful, but it isn’t as easy as it used to be. My knee, you know? Gives me trouble with all the bending.”
“Can I help? I’d love to see what you have. Maybe Jude will let me put a flower box on his porch.”
Nancy grins. “I’m not going to say no. You find a good day to get away from the Sanctuary, and I’ll tell the other girls. We’ll make an afternoon of it.”
I think I’ve been officially invited to my very first girls’ day in, and I can’t wait.
“Count me in.”