Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
RACHEL
Three weeks passed in a blur of playdates, giggles, and increasingly silly questions about anything Frankie had learned about that week.
We went shopping together and found her clothes that fit her that she actually liked.
We shopped out of both sides of the kids sections and I was absolutely not surprised that she gravitated towards things that matched Mojave’s aesthetic.
She was mimicking him more and more as time went on, which was just adorable.
Unfortunately, those three weeks also passed with missed visitations—where Frankie played in my office and didn’t even notice that her parents never showed up—missed check-ins, and when I called the person who ran the parenting classes the Smythe’s were supposed to attend, she said they never even signed up.
The lack of effort was glaring. They weren’t willing to even try.
It was disheartening and frustrating. Frankie deserved better.
I kept trying to find something to say or do that might get through to them, but with each missed appointment, that hope that they’d show up and try faded a little more.
After Mojave picked Frankie up from the fourth missed visitation in a row, I was forced to make the hard decision. I picked up my phone to call Meredith.
She picked up on the third ring, her voice holding a hint of concern as she asked, “Rachel? We don’t have a meeting scheduled, do we? Is something wrong?”
“Yes and no,” I answered honestly. “I need your help.”
In the end, Meredith made the call to bring the parents in for another meeting, this time with her present.
We scheduled it with what worked best for me and Meredith, and I left messages on both parents’ phones as well as called their emergency contact numbers to press upon them the seriousness of this meeting.
It was all I could do. If they didn’t show up for the meeting with Meredith, I wasn’t sure there was anything left that we could do.
With a heavy sigh, I scrubbed my hands over my face, considering not for the first time rescheduling the plans we had for this evening.
I’d been distant with my parents since our last conversation, but they finally called and begged for me to visit, promising Scott wouldn’t be there.
When they found out I was seeing someone and would be bringing him and Frankie, they were uneasy, but agreed and we had plans to meet at their house after picking up Frankie from school.
“Rach, go home,” Ted chided from his desk. “You’re beat. I’ve got things handled here. Go get some rest.”
Forcing a smile, I nodded. “I think I’ll take you up on that,” I said with a sigh. “I need to get ready to visit my parents this evening anyway.”
He flashed me a flat look. “That’s not the kind of rest I was referring to.”
I snickered, waving at him as I headed for the door.
He’d overheard a phone call or two between me and my parents.
He knew our relationship was contentious.
And he was right, I wasn’t expecting this visit to be relaxing in the slightest. I just had to hope that it’d be polite.
I couldn’t ask for more from them just yet.
I stopped at home long enough to change into something less likely to garner comments from my mother and took the time to reapply my makeup and curl my hair.
I hated that I had to put in so much effort just for them to be pleasant, but it’d only be a quick visit.
Just dinner at their house. Once it was over, I could relax again.
And since my parents’ house was on the opposite side of town from Mojave’s trailer, we’d be staying at my place tonight so I didn’t have to worry about a long drive home afterward.
I’d been spending most nights with Mojave and Frankie, and the commute was a bit much when I was already exhausted from a long day.
It was worth it to see the two of them folding origami and discussing if a cheetah or a hippo was faster in the water, or something else silly that Frankie could come up with, but I was glad it would be a short trip today.
Pulling up in front of the school, my eyes immediately sought out Mojave.
He was usually standing in front of the tree across from the main doors, so I was surprised to see him sitting under it instead.
He looked tired, forearms rested on his raised knees, and he only opened his eyes once I approached him.
“Mojave? Is everything okay?”
He hummed, pushing himself to his feet a little sluggishly. I rushed forward, worried he was sick or something, but he waved me off, his tone reassuring. “It’s fine. Doc said it was normal.”
My brows furrowed tightly. I hadn’t even realized he was going to see a doctor. “What’s normal?”
A flicker of something crossed Mojave’s face that looked a lot like embarrassment before he admitted, “Perry recommended some meds for anxiety. Just to take the edge off. I can handle day to day, but I’ve been a little… off. The meds are supposed to help so I can keep taking care of Frankie.”
The tension in my chest eased and I gave him a soft smile. “I understand. And I’m glad you asked for help when you needed it.”
He shrugged awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable admitting it out loud, but I cupped his face to draw his attention to me, pressing my lips to his.
It was my way of helping him settle when he looked like he needed a little extra support, and he sighed into it, wrapping his arms around me and resting his forehead against mine.
“You look nice,” he murmured.
“Thank you. We’re meeting my parents for dinner tonight, remember?”
He nodded slowly and gestured to a paper bag next to where he’d been seated a few moments earlier. “Killian said to pick up a bottle of wine. Summer recommended the brand.”
Summer, the other tattoo artist in Killian’s shop.
I’d met her a few times since Mojave and I started dating.
She was a little brash, but great with kids.
She always had paper and colored pens waiting for Frankie whenever she was there, and she gave her advice on how to draw certain things using shapes as the base to make it easier. I liked her.
“That’s a sweet gesture. I’m sure my parents will appreciate it,” I smiled at him.
The bell rang and Frankie burst out the door, rushing over to join us with the same gleeful expression she always had at the end of the day when she saw we were waiting for her.
While I was more than comfortable now with Mojave picking her up himself, neither of us wanted to miss pickup time if we could help it.
Frankie deserved to know she was worth the effort of showing up.
Something her parents wouldn’t afford her, but I was determined to follow through.
“Guess what!” she shouted as she ran up to us, throwing herself at Mojave for a hug before quickly grabbing onto me. “One of the girls in my class liked my shorts! She said she wanted a pair! Can you tell her where to get them?”
She didn’t wait for my answer before dragging me through the crowd toward a little girl and her mother who was squatting next to a big dog and smiling encouragingly as her daughter spoke.
“Mariella!” Frankie called out, tugging my hand a little harder when I didn’t move fast enough. I chuckled at her enthusiasm, finally releasing her when she bounced over to her new friend’s side and beamed brightly. “This is Ms. Rachel! She bought me the shorts! She can tell you where to get them!”
The little girl, Mariella, swung to face her mother, suddenly speaking in rapid fire Spanish as she pointed excitedly at Frankie’s shorts.
They were the aqua blue ones with little rhinestones around the pockets.
It’d been a suggestion I made and Frankie had thought they were alright, but now she looked delighted that someone actually liked what she was wearing for once.
Mariella’s mother seemed to struggle with the English language, her words a little stilted as she asked, “Where you buy the shorts?”
To my surprise, it was Mojave who answered, in full blown Spanish to boot. I swung around, eyes wide as he spoke in soft tones, explaining where in the mall to find them. The mother looked relieved that he spoke Spanish, answering him in kind with a grateful smile.
“Mojave! Can Mariella come over to play?” Frankie asked, her hands clasped together tightly in a pleading expression.
“Not today. We’re meeting my parents for dinner today,” I reminded her. Before she got too disappointed, I suggested, “How about this weekend? You can play at my house so she won’t have to drive so far, and we’ll have lunch at the park.”
That made Frankie perk up, and Mojave translated the request for me to the mother, who seemed agreeable to the plan.
I had a basic understanding of Spanish, enough to get by, but Ted was fluent and took the cases where parents couldn’t at least understand a surface level of English.
The few times I had cases where he wasn’t available, we made due with children being translators, but I was studying in my free time so I could communicate as well as possible before I got busy with Mojave and Frankie.
Both little girls squealed when the plan was finalized and I exchanged numbers with Mariella’s mother so I could send her the address later on.
Frankie was beaming from ear to ear as we headed for my car, holding both Mojave’s hand and mine and talking non-stop.
The tension from the morning eased seeing how happy she was and her bright mood put me in a better headspace for visiting my parents.
She talked the whole drive there, excitedly regaling us about how many friends she had now and how Mariella had told her that she hated long hair and her mom wouldn’t let her cut it short like Frankie’s, but she wanted to.
She was so animated and happy, the change in her demeanor was almost like a slap in the face when we pulled into my parents’ driveway and she suddenly went quiet.
After putting the car into park, I twisted in my seat to look at her with a frown. “Frankie. Is something wrong?”
Frankie shrank a little in her seat, staring out the window at my parents’ house. “No. I’m fine.”
She said that, but she clung to Mojave’s hand when we headed inside, and didn’t say a word to my parents when they came to greet us.
Then again, my parents’ expressions weren’t exactly welcoming.
They looked like they were fighting to keep their faces neutral and looked a little strained because of it.
“Mom, Dad. This is my boyfriend, Mojave, and this is Frankie. Mojave, Frankie, these are my parents, Rick and Karen Clark.”
Mojave’s expression was a little guarded as he stuck out his free hand. My dad shook it to be polite, but my mom wasn’t trying hard enough to mask the judgment on her face.
“It’s… nice to meet you,” my mother said uneasily.
Frankie tugged on Mojave’s sleeve, lifting to her toes to whisper to him. He leaned down enough to hear her, then grimaced, flashing me an apologetic look. “I left the wine in the car. I’ll be right back.”
Frankie went with him, shooting suspicious looks over her shoulder at my parents. I bit back a sigh. I should’ve prepared for this. Frankie didn’t always warm up quickly to new adults. She’d been burned in the past. I should’ve known she would be standoffish with my parents.
“Rachel Marie Clark,” my mom hissed as soon as they were out of hearing range. “You are not being serious right now.”