Chapter 2
TWO
Early April
“And that’s the last of it,” Nurse Bea told Frankie as she switched off the pump. She blinked rapidly. “Sorry, I always get a little teary at this part.”
Frankie’s heart clenched. She’d grown close to Bea during this round of chemo and was sad to see her leave. Not only that—Bea was going all the way to Puerto Rico, with plans to stay at least a month after her fourteen-week assignment was over.
“I’m just glad you’re still here for it,” Frankie said as she blinked back her own tears. Then she mock-frowned. “Not sure I can forgive you for taking off. I’m running low on friends these days.”
“I am so sorry about that.” They were both quiet for a moment. Then Bea brightened. “Are you planning on trying that friend app I told you about?”
“Oh, shoot. Run it by me again.” Frankie tapped the side of her head. “Chemo brain.”
Bea smiled. “Of course. I’ll write it down for you, too.” Bea grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper out of her scrubs pocket. “It’s BeMyNeighborCO,” she said as she wrote it down. She handed Frankie the slip of paper.
Frankie pulled her into a hug and Bea squeezed her gently. “You’re going to make it,” Bea said. “I just know it. Now go ring the bell.”
The bell. It was tradition for patients to ring the bell in the cancer center after they received their last chemo treatment. Frankie had heard it ringing twice since she’d started her infusions. Each time, she smiled and clapped for the lucky soul who’d come out the other side of hell. Hoping one day, she’d ring it, too.
She knew all too well that not everyone made it.
Shaking the dark thoughts out of her head, Frankie waited until Bea removed the needle from her port, then stood with Bea’s help and crossed the room to the bell. As soon as she rang it, both staff and patients clapped and cheered for her this time. Frankie blinked back tears as she smiled. She heard someone behind her clear his throat and she turned.
Dr. Derek Sloane stood right behind her holding a dozen red silk roses.
Oh, great. How long has he been hovering over me?
Frankie didn’t want to be rude or appear ungrateful in front of so many people—which is why she suspected Dr. Sloane had decided to give her the roses right then with all eyes on her. It didn’t matter he was a doctor, the guy was a creep, that’s all there was to it. She couldn’t put her finger on why he made her skin crawl the minute she met him, but that didn’t mean she had to tolerate him or his unappreciated attention.
He thrust the bouquet at her and opened his mouth to say something, when Bea swept in and grabbed the bouquet with a smile.
“How nice, Dr. D!” she said. “I’ll carry them for Frankie down to the car.” She shoved them under her armpit and gripped the handles of a wheelchair.
As the doctor’s expression turned confused, then angry, Frankie plopped herself into the mandatory (and much-appreciated) wheelchair and Bea practically jogged her out the door and into the hall. Frankie felt like shit, but that wasn’t stopping her from laughing.
The glass doors at the entrance whooshed open and Bea pushed her through. “Would you like the honors of dumping these in the garbage can, or shall I?” Bea asked her.
“Go right ahead.” Then Frankie turned to look up at Bea. “Or am I being a bitch?”
“Oh, honey, no.” Bea shoved the flowers into the can beside the door. “His behavior is totally inappropriate, but of course he’s never disciplined for it.” She rolled her eyes. “Makes me glad I’m moving on to my next assignment.”
“Not me,” Frankie said. “I’m going to miss you.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a thank you card.
“Thank you. For everything,” Frankie said as she gave it to Bea.
“Oh! It was my pleasure, Frankie.” She pressed the card against her chest. “I promise, I’ll keep in touch.”
Frankie’s smile masked her doubts. She’d heard that promise before.
Of course Bea saw through it. “I will ,” she assured her. “Especially since Dan?—”
Frankie put her hand up and squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, no,” she said, cutting Bea off. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sorry.” Bea rested her hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “But if you ever do want to talk.”
Frankie’s ride share pulled up just then, thank God. She stood and hugged Bea one last time, and they made the obligatory patient/nurse joke— you’re wonderful and I hope I never have to see you again . Frankie greeted the driver, got into the back seat, and closed her eyes.
When she got home, she woke her computer and glanced at her mom’s latest email. She closed it halfway into the first sentence. Frankie picked up her phone and looked at the icon for the friend-finding app she’d downloaded that morning, BeMyNeighborCO. Her finger hovered over the button before she tapped on it. She created a profile, read it over and deleted it, retyped it, then hit save before she could talk herself out of deleting it again. She wiped away a tear.
Frankie took a deep breath and thought, The rest of my life starts now . Don’t waste it.
Then she cleared off her desk, moving everything over to a couple of chairs.
Frankie opened her desk drawer, took out a big sheet of rolled-up butcher’s paper, and smoothed it out across her desk. She’d drawn a rough map of the world as if seen through a fisheye lens, with Colorado’s rectangle huge and in the center. A tiny New Zealand was at the far left edge and a tiny Japan at the far right. She’d drawn a series of concentric circles out from the star that marked her rental house at the dead center of the paper. Words ran along the circles. The closest one read Hike with my soulmate in the Rocky Mountains .
Frankie tapped it and said, “Monday.”
The next circle out was Fancy dinner for two in Denver . “Tuesday.”
The next one read Crazy-scary zipline with crazy-scary D! She started to tap that one and say Wednesday but hesitated. She read some of the others. Hang gliding—naked. Camp under the northern lights and count our blessings. Crazy stuff in Vegas that stays in Vegas. Snorkel with sharks and swim with mantas in Hawaii. Eat a hot dog in Fiji - she smiled wistfully at that one and wiped away another tear. Kayak in a cave full of glowworms in New Zealand. Dress like geishas in Kyoto . Her finger trailed out from the center to the far edge of the paper. The far edge of the world.
The map blurred. Frankie dashed off to the bathroom to empty her stomach into the toilet.
She lay down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, exhausted.
“Maybe I’ll start with an epic session of staying in bed today.”
Mid-September
Frankie stared at the strange notification on her phone from some app called BeMyNeighborCO. The heading read: You have a match!
Right before she removed the app from her phone, she remembered.
Oh yeah.
Not only had she forgotten about signing up and creating a profile back in April, but the entire app had slipped her mind.
Stupid brain fog .
Frankie had only started feeling human again over the past couple of weeks. Before that, she’d been fuzzy and beyond absent-minded. It still wasn’t entirely gone, but at least now she wasn’t searching every room in her house for her phone while holding it.
Frankie sat down at her desk and read the notification again. You have a match! She sighed and wondered if she should bother clicking on it.
Is it weird to reach out to a perfect stranger just for friendship?
Frankie had friends already. There was the proof of it right there on the wall.
Or at least it had been proof, once.
She smiled wistfully at the framed photograph. Dressed up like a flapper and surrounded by eight other college-aged women, everyone holding up martini glasses in front of a bar in Missoula, Montana. The same martini glass sat on the corner of her desk, right under the photo. She’d stolen it from the hidden speakeasy she’d talked everyone into finding that night. The glass held a sand dollar and a couple of shells.
She picked up the glass and absently ran her finger around the rim as she looked at another photograph of the same group at the beach. They’d called her crazy that Saturday morning a couple weeks before finals, when she went around knocking on their doors at the crack of dawn. But, she still convinced them all to drive straight to the beach in Washington just to watch the sunset together before school ended and they’d all go their separate ways.
Frankie took the sand dollar out of the martini glass and studied it.
Funny how I was the only one to leave Montana after graduation .
She’d taken a job in Santa Fe for a while. Then, she moved to Arizona. Then all the way out to Wisconsin (never again—too cold and wet). Now, she was in Colorado. She was always the one to fly back home to see her friends, but she never minded. Frankie loved airports, loved flying, loved everything that had to do with travel.
Then after one brutal phone call, everything changed. She hadn’t traveled out of state in almost a year.
She called her friends in tears and they promised to help her through. And they did at first, thank goodness. They all tried to outdo each other, honestly, with their gifts and their visits in the weeks after. Until things got really bad. Suddenly everyone’s schedule filled up.
Now, months later, her friends barely texted.
Frankie returned her attention to the app, and the friend match. She clicked on the notification to open it, just out of curiosity more than anything. It was from someone named XMarkstheSpot. Well, their name wasn’t actually XMarkstheSpot of course, that was just their username. Frankie’s was…
“What did I name myself? Oh yeah. WereWwoofer.”
A message from XMarkstheSpot popped up on her screen. It read:
Hey, neighbor! I’m new to the area and I’m looking for someone who likes camping, mountain climbing, good conversation, and fine dining. Judging from your profile, that looks like you, too .
“Check, check, check and one more check for good measure.” Frankie smiled.
This might not have been a bad idea at all .
She kept reading:
I’d like to talk online first. Hope you understand. And I hope we’re a match! –X
“I do understand, X.” Frankie wasn’t about to meet a total stranger in person—her brain fog wasn’t that bad. She was glad X was being careful, too. There was a little green circle beside X’s name. Frankie assumed that meant she was online. Frankie clicked on it and a dialogue box popped up.
Hi? XMtS?
She only waited a few seconds before she got a response.
LOL Just X will do. Hi WereWwoofer! Hey, I’m glad you answered.
Frankie grinned and felt the warm bloom of a new friendship in her chest.
Me too. I actually forgot I’d installed this app, lol
Great, now I sound like an idiot.
LOL! Well, I’m glad you remembered. I could use a friend. It’s kinda lonely when you don’t know anyone.
Whew. Maybe I don’t sound like an idiot. Or X is just a nice person. Score!
Yeah, I totally agree. I’m fairly new to Colorado, too.
Aw!!! No friends either yet? That sucks!
Frankie wasn’t completely friendless here, and she’d been in Colorado for just over a year, but she leaned into what X was saying.
Well, no one I can have adventures with, know what I mean?
Yeah, I do! I was hoping to find someone who felt the same way, and here I lucked out right off the bat. :-)
“Aw!” X sounded awesome already. Maybe she’d be the kind of friend who was up for anything. Someone fun, someone who…
“Oh, Jesus!”
…just sent her a dick pic.
Frankie slammed her phone face down on the desk out of shock and sat there for a moment. “I specifically signed up for just women friends!”
She snickered.
“Someone sent me a dick pic.”
Then she erupted in giggles.
“An actual dick pic. Whelp, I guess X isn’t a woman.”
She tried to stop giggling. She clapped her hand over her mouth but her laughter bubbled through her fingers.
“I should be appalled. But then again, it’s not much of a dick.”
She flipped her phone over and there it was in all its stumpy glory.
Frankie couldn’t stop laughing. She took a screenshot and shrank the app so she could call one of her friends and tell her about it before forwarding it. And then stopped when she remembered.
“Yeah, right. Brain fog. The whole reason I was on this stupid app is because I don’t have a friend I feel like I can call anymore.” And she couldn’t exactly show it to the one person she did have in town .
Her laughter evaporated. She blew out a breath as she set her phone down. She was tempted to complain to the site, but why bother? Frankie wasn’t going to answer this guy, and she obviously wasn’t going to use BeMyNeighborCO again.
Except that she didn’t want the same thing to happen to another woman who might not laugh at a teeny weenie like Frankie did. She picked her phone back up and woke it. The Vienna sausage popped up on the screen.
“And you’re blocked and reported. Good deed done.”
She deleted the app. So much for that.
“What did I used to do before my life went to hell?” Frankie pursed her lips. “I don’t think I spent all my time talking to myself.”
Then she remembered. Right. I used to go to the rec center.
Where Stephanie works .
Frankie bit her lip. Crazy how everything had been stolen from her. How could she forget about Steve ?
“Well. Time to get it all back.”
Her heart clenched. That would be impossible—she couldn’t have everything back, not anymore. Frankie blinked back sudden tears.
“At least I can see how much is left. Steve will be surprised to see me.”
Frankie stood up. She found her purse and then her keys inside her purse—a banner day—and went out to her car.
She was halfway to the rec center when she remembered her gym bag sitting on a bench beside the front door.
Shit .
Half an hour later, she stood at the entrance and stared up at the Welcome New Members! banner over the door.
Members . She snickered, remembering the dick pic.
She wasn’t a new member (ha-ha), but when the heck was the last time she’d been there? A year? Over a year?
Hell if I know . Her life had been put on hold for so long, she’d lost track .
She’d hoisted her gym bag up on her shoulder, which was a lot skinnier now and more apt to let things slip right off again, and walked up to the automatic glass doors. Cool air whooshed out at her, bringing the familiar smells of exercise mats, guys’ obnoxious body spray, tennis balls, a faint wisp of chlorine, and no hint of sanitizers or bland food whatsoever.
Smells like plain old life in there.
I’ve missed it .
The Colorado sun was brutal that day and it took her a few blinks to get her eyes to adjust to the darker interior. When they did, the first person she saw behind the receptionist’s desk was gorgeous, funny, uplifting, snarky Stephanie. In her seventies and full of energy, Frankie wanted to be her when she grew up.
Not that Stephanie had necessarily grown up herself.
When Stephanie looked up and saw her, it took her a few seconds to recognize Frankie. But when she did, the most beautiful smile bloomed on Stephanie’s face.
God, I’ve missed you, too. I just didn’t know it .
Frankie saw the same emotion reflected right back at her in Stephanie’s smile.
“Hey, Steve.” It was their little joke, calling each other by their guy names.
“Been a while, Frank,” Stephanie said as she stood up and circled the desk. “When you cancelled your membership, I wondered what happened. Wasn’t sure you were ever coming back.”
“Wasn’t sure I was coming back either. But here I am.”
The hug Stephanie gave her threatened to make Frankie cry.
“Welcome, stranger,” Stephanie said. “I’ve missed you to hell and back.”
“That’s funny. I’ve been to hell and back and I didn’t see you there.”
Stephanie held Frankie at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “Not my fault. I’m very mad at you.”
“Why? ”
“You didn’t tell me about the cancer.” Stephanie’s eyes misted over. “I would have helped.”
Frankie didn’t have to wonder how Stephanie knew. Her body had changed so much since the last time she’d been to for a yoga class or a workout. She could have cried, thinking about the muscle she’d lost. But she didn’t want Stephanie’s pity.
“Eh. It was boring. Zero stars, would not recommend.”
Stephanie pursed her lips. “You did have help though, didn’t you? It was a big thing you went through, looks like.”
“And I’m through it.” Frankie shut down that line of questioning. It would only make Stephanie feel worse about not knowing and helping. “So. Do I need to renew my membership?”
Steph paused, studying her, and Frankie hoped she wouldn’t pry any further. To her relief, she turned, went back behind her desk, and sat down. “Nope. I’ll just reactivate you. Once a member, always a member.”
Frankie’s mind went right back to the dick pic. She smothered a giggle.
Stephanie typed something into her computer that reactivated Frankie’s membership. Then she propped her elbows on the deck, laced her fingers together, and dropped her chin on them. “All right, tell me what’s so funny, Frank. I could use a good laugh.”
Frankie rolled her eyes.
“Oh, it’s stupid.”
“Stupid’s fun. I’m all ears, Frank.”
“Okay, fine. I downloaded an app a couple months ago, then forgot all about it. BeMyNeighborCO. It’s for finding local people to hang out with. Ever heard of it?”
“Nope.” She raised an eyebrow. “People to hang out with?”
“Not like that . It’s not a dating app.”
Steph grinned. “My mistake.”
“Well like I said, I signed up, forgot all about it, and then I got a match this morning. So I clicked on the notification to open it, just out of curiosity more than anything.” Frankie told her about the dick pic.
Stephanie howled “You are kidding me!”
“Nope!”
“Lemme see it!” Steph held out her hand.
“Oh, God no!”
“Come on.”
Frankie laughed. “Fine.” She unlocked her phone and scrolled through her screenshots. She frowned. “Hang on. It should be the first one but I can’t find it. I must have accidentally deleted it when I blocked the jerk and reported him. I deleted the app, too.”
“Good deed done,” Stephanie said. “I’m sure you’ll be rewarded.” Once she got her laughter back under control, Stephanie keyed something else into the computer. She looked back up at Frankie and tilted her head, lips pursed again.
Oh no. She’s studying me for real. That can’t be good .
“You know, it’s funny that you were looking for a friend to have adventures with, because I just so happen to need some help with that.”
“You need an adventure buddy?” Frankie perked up. Steve was a ton of fun.
“Well, not me , exactly. But I need one for the Adventure Buddies Club. It’s…a new thing we’re doing.”
“Okay, what is it?”
Stephanie smiled. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Buddies meet every Saturday morning and we go out together to have adventures. I’m one person short, or else it’s a no-go.”
“One person short?”
Steph nodded. “Buddies are paired up together and I ended up with an odd number.”
Frankie’s stomach dropped. Was she trying to set her up with someone? “And you want me to fill out the roster.”
“Correct. What do you say? It starts…oh, let’s see. Saturday, Oc tober first.”
“I…don’t think?—”
“Please?” Stephanie gave her big puppy-dog eyes.
“You don’t fight fair.”
“Nope. Never have, never will.”
Frankie blew out a breath. “How…vigorous is it?”
“Not very, to start. Gotta test out the group’s physical tolerance. First outing is a simple getting-to-know-you hike.” Stephanie gave her the charming grin Frankie absolutely could not resist. “What do you say, Frank?”
“Fine, fine, I’m in.” She pointed at Stephanie. “But only because you’re a big old brute, coercing me into this.”
“Aw, you say the sweetest things.” Stephanie winked. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”
“So long as it’s a ‘just friends’ thing.” She giggled.
“Of course it is. Consider it your reward for your good deed.”