Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
RACHEL
“Please? Please!” Frankie begged.
Like I thought, Frankie wasn’t happy about going back home.
Especially after Mojave offered to let her stay with him again.
He’d been trying to make her feel better, she’d started crying when we told her it was time to go home, but it only gave her false hope.
He couldn’t keep her indefinitely. And he couldn’t keep her at all until we had a discussion and the paperwork went through. For tonight, Frankie had to go home.
It seemed like I disappointed them both when I told Frankie she couldn’t stay.
She started crying again, refused to pick up her backpack to get into the car, and wouldn’t get in at all until Mojave climbed into the back with her.
Now she was clinging to him and begging, and I could see out of the corner of my eye that it was painful for him to tell her no.
Wrapping his arms around her, Mojave didn’t say anything.
He just held her and let her cry, resting his cheek against the top of her head and rubbing her back.
I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes watching them together, and I felt like the bad guy for forcing her, but my hands were tied.
If we didn’t bring her back, it would be akin to kidnapping.
Frankie was still sniffling and unhappy when we pulled up to the curb in front of her house. Mojave had to pick her up to get her out of the car, and she hugged his middle tightly as they stood on the sidewalk, completely unwilling to let go.
We got lucky that Frankie’s parents had returned, since I was sure Frankie would’ve used their absence to go back with Mojave and we’d have to do this whole event over again when they did come home.
They were unpacking the car from their trip, Violet disappearing into the house without a word while Max pulled things out of the car and set them aside.
He eyed Frankie as he moved a bright purple luggage closer to the front steps.
“What’s up with her?”
I forced myself to smile, despite how hard it was when Frankie was still sniffling. The guilt threatened to eat me alive. “Frankie had a nice weekend, and kids sometimes are a little sad when fun times come to an end, that’s all.”
He scoffed, which made me frown, as I hadn’t expected the reaction. Neither had Mojave, his expression matching mine.
“So let her stay another night, then. I’m not going to complain about a quiet house. It’s better than hearing her crying all night.”
My head jerked back in surprise. I’d hoped a weekend away from their daughter would’ve changed their perspective at least a little, that they’d at least missed her after being away from her for so long, but he looked entirely uninterested in her coming home or even reassuring her when she was upset.
“Mr. Smythe, that’s not–”
“Really?” Frankie asked, perking up considerably.
Her expression was so full of hope, it was almost painful.
Especially since her father was giving her another instance of false hope.
Mojave’s suggestion had been unintentional, trying to make Frankie feel better.
Max’s suggestion was cruel. He didn’t want Frankie around because he didn’t want to listen to her cry.
When I glanced at Mojave, he looked just as upset by his comment as I felt, leveling Max with a dark glare that the younger man either ignored or didn’t notice. He grabbed the cooler from the back seat, bringing that to the door as well just as Violet came back outside.
She eyed us disdainfully while demanding to Max, “What are they still doing here?”
“Frankie wants to stay with them. They want to hand her off crying like a baby for us to deal with instead of letting her stay another night with them.”
The accusation felt like a slap to the face, and I felt my professional demeanor slipping from my grasp. “I didn’t say that,” I argued. “While I understand how Frankie feels, this is still her home and–”
Violet rolled her eyes, interrupting me by shooting Frankie an irritated look. “Frankie, stop pestering people and get your ass inside. They obviously don’t want you another night.”
While I was fighting to keep myself under control, Mojave didn’t seem to think he had that restriction. He glared at Violet, snapping at her, “She’s not pestering anyone. Don’t talk like that to her.”
Violet raised one smug eyebrow at him. “If she wasn’t annoying, you’d keep her another night, wouldn’t you? Obviously a weekend made you realize she’s more of a handful than you originally thought, right? That’s why you’re bringing her back.”
The fury in Mojave’s expression made me worried he’d lose his temper and start a fight.
He’d already gotten hurt once today, and getting into a physical altercation with Frankie’s parents would eliminate his ability to become her temporary guardian.
I’d need to find another placement for Frankie and she’d more than likely be pulled out of her school and away from Mojave since most other fosters were in the city or in another town.
His jaw worked as he fought to keep it together, and when Frankie tugged on his shirt, it took him a second to turn his furious gaze away from Frankie’s mother and soften it to look at Frankie again.
“Can I stay with you again? Please?”
This time, he didn’t argue. He nodded sharply and picked Frankie up, bringing her back to the car and nudging her into the back.
She scooted over so he could sit next to her, and when he closed the door behind him, I could tell by his expression, he wouldn’t be changing his mind. Not after the way they acted.
I couldn’t blame him.
Unfortunately, I was the professional in this situation, so I did have to address it. I drew in a steadying breath before facing Frankie’s parents again, my voice a little tight despite my attempts to remain calm.
“While Mojave may be willing to watch her another night, I’m going to need you to come by my office tomorrow. We need to have a discussion about Frankie’s care.”
“We have work,” Violet sneered. “Unless you don’t want us to have the money to feed her?”
I resisted the urge to shout that I gave them information for food stamps or government assistance options. They refused to take them. Arguing with them wouldn’t help. Right now, I needed to do what was best for Frankie.
“I’ll see you at lunch, then. And I assure you this interaction will be added to your case file, as well as what happened this weekend. Things need to change, Mr. and Mrs. Smythe. For Frankie’s sake. That’s not a suggestion.”
“Whatever,” Violet scoffed, spinning on her heel and stomping back inside. Max followed her without a word, letting the door slam shut behind him.
The drive back to my house was tense, both me and Mojave trying to reign in our emotions after the interaction so we wouldn’t upset Frankie. Unfortunately, kids were more perceptive than many people believed because when we stopped at a red light, she asked, “Are you mad?”
Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, I noticed her eyes were in her lap, guilt written all over her face like she thought she’d done something wrong.
“Oh, sweetie, no. We aren’t mad,” I reassured her. “We’re always happy to spend more time with you.”
“But you wanted to bring me back,” she pointed out, her voice a little wobbly like she was fighting back tears. “My mom said I was being annoying.”
Watching a normally spunky kid fall apart was heartbreaking and if I wasn’t driving us back to my house, I’d pull her into my arms and just hold her for a little while.
None of that confrontation should have happened in front of Frankie.
I’d only intended on dropping her off, not getting into an argument with her parents.
I should’ve made Frankie go wait in the car when her parents first started pushing the idea of her staying with us.
I was so shocked by the interaction, I skipped an important step in keeping Frankie safe and now she felt unwelcome because of it.
“You’re not annoying,” Mojave grumbled. “We brought you back because we had to. They’re your parents, not us.”
True, but not something Frankie would entirely understand. While she knew that her parents were her parents, she wouldn’t know the legalities of child care and the responsibilities her parents were neglecting when refusing to take her back.
“Frankie,” I said, waiting for her to look at me in the rearview mirror.
“Part of the reason we brought you back is because we were supposed to. But I also thought after a weekend apart, you and your parents would miss each other and want to spend time together. I know I wouldn’t want to be away from you for that long. Didn’t you miss them?”
Frankie gave an uneasy shrug. “We don’t do fun things together. I like it with you and Mojave better.”
Which wasn’t at all surprising. Even if they made the time, I didn’t think Frankie’s parents would put in the effort to bring her to the library or to the park to play.
I didn’t hold it against Frankie for wanting to stay with the people who prioritized her and her needs.
I did hold it against her parents for not even trying to mask the resentment they felt toward such a sweet and spunky little girl.
After pulling into my driveway and parking, I turned in my seat to look at the pair in the back.
Frankie had a tight grip on Mojave’s leather vest, her face tight like she was fighting big emotions and trying to pretend she was less upset by the event than she truly was.
I sighed, giving her an understanding smile.
“I get that. And I’m glad we can have fun together.
For now, let’s go inside and get into comfy clothes.
I think I want to order out tonight. I don’t feel like cooking. ”
Frankie’s heartache eased a little and she asked hopefully, “Pizza?”
Pursing my lips, I glanced at Mojave, who was still fighting to hide the dark expression on his face. “What do you think, Mojave? Pizza?”
He only nodded, but I didn’t push. He needed longer to settle, and when we came inside and he made a beeline for the origami, I figured he was going to take some time to cool off before joining the conversation.
Since Frankie only had enough clothes for the weekend and I didn’t want her to have to stay up while I washed what was in her backpack, I let her pick through the donated clothes again.
She found a pajama set with little frogs and beamed when I said she could have it.
She scrambled to get changed and rushed out to show Mojave before I could blink.
Thankfully, bad mood or not, Mojave didn’t take it out on Frankie, his voice smooth and even as he complimented the pjs and suggested wearing them to school for her presentation.
“You can’t wear pajamas to school, silly!” Frankie giggled.
Mojave’s brows furrowed. “Why not? Clothes are clothes.”
“It’s against the dress code,” I replied, pulling up the app for pizza delivery. “Now what do we want for toppings?”
We ordered a large pizza for us to share, and Mojave and Frankie continued to work on their origami while a movie played on the TV. When the doorbell rang, I expected it to be the delivery guy, so it surprised me when there was not just one person on my doorstep, but three.
“Oh, um… Hello?”
“Hi!” the female standing next to the delivery guy beamed. “I’m Mel and that’s Prez. We’re here to see Mojave.”