Chapter 57
Frankie stared at her sister in amazement. Some people had all the luck. “Mitch Ripley just asked you on a date.”
“No, he didn’t,” Harper said. “He asked all of us. Including Lucas and the dogs. That’s not a date. That’s a…group thing. Right? Maybe it’s not. I don’t know. It probably isn’t a date. Not with another guy along.”
“Holy cow, of course it’s a date. Inviting all of us is just his way of taking it slow, which makes perfect sense.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.” Harper was starting dinner. A chickpea and chopped veggie salad with grilled chicken breasts. She pulled ingredients out of the refrigerator. “How are you feeling about today?”
Frankie let out a long sigh. Today was such a complicated subject. Things with Shar had not gone the way she’d thought they would. Pretty much an epic crash and burn. And she’d already rehashed the whole thing ad nauseum with Willa. At least they’d gotten groceries after the disastrous lunch. “Do we have to talk about it?”
“Nope. We can never talk about it again, if that’s what you want. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You’re the one I care about.”
“Thanks. I don’t know if I’m okay, but I will be. Don’t worry, I’m not going to fall apart or anything.” Frankie held up the cucumber. “How do you want this cut?”
“Small cubes.”
Frankie got out a cutting board and started working on the cucumber.
“That’s good.” Harper was opening a large can of organic chickpeas. “That you’re not going to fall apart, I mean. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”
“Thanks. How about you? Are you mad at me? I know you didn’t want to go in the first place.”
Harper stopped what she was doing to touch Frankie’s arm. “I couldn’t be mad at you for what happened. For one thing, you were doing what you thought was best. For you and your kids. For another, if I was going to be mad at anyone, it would be her.”
Frankie nodded in agreement, the hurt caused by their birth mother keeping them a secret rising up in her again. “I can’t believe we have siblings that know nothing about us. She hid us from them. Like some awful secret.”
“I can believe it. Shar didn’t want to have to explain what she’d done. To her, it was an awful secret.”
“I know, but still. I just don’t get it.” Frankie worked on cutting nice straight lines and even cubes. It was silly, because no one was going to see it but them, but someday she’d probably cook for Lucas, and she wanted him to be impressed.
“Are you going to tell Jason and Willa?”
“I’ve already told Willa. We had a big talk about it when you were at Mitch’s. And I’ll tell Jason soon. I’m not sure he’s going to care.”
“But Willa did?”
Frankie hadn’t said anything to Harper about this yet. “She was excited by the possibility of having another grandmother.”
“Poor kid.”
“It wasn’t just my cancer scare that got me interested in finding Shar.” Frankie sliced through the cucumber sticks she’d made, leaving them in small cubes. “Willa’s been on a genealogy kick lately. I don’t know how she finds the time with all of her studies, but I felt like I owed it to her to tell her the truth.”
“I can understand that.” Harper rinsed the chickpeas, drained them well, then emptied them into a big glass salad bowl.
Frankie finished the last of her dicing. “Should I add the cucumber now or wait?”
“No, dump it in.”
Frankie used the edge of the knife to clean the cutting board off into the bowl. “What else?”
Harper ticked things off on her fingers. “Those cherry tomatoes need to be quartered. The parsley needs to be finely chopped. I have to make the dressing. Then the crumbled feta gets added. And the chicken breasts need to be grilled and sliced.”
Frankie grabbed the pint of tomatoes. “I’ll do these next then the parsley.”
“Thanks.”
A little barking and the sound of the door announced Willa and Archie had returned from their walk. “We’re back,” Willa called out.
They came up the steps together. Willa had her phone in her hand and was looking at the screen. “I think Archie wants a treat. He did everything, if you know what I mean, so I think he earned it.”
“Give him something from the basket,” Harper said. “Thanks for taking him out.”
Willa got Archie a cookie from the Barkery basket. “Here you go, Archie baby. He’s the best boy.”
Then, looking at her phone again, she took a seat at the counter. “I don’t mind taking him out. He’s the sweetest thing. I love him. He’s the best dog ever. I wish I could have a dog. Someday.”
Harper smiled. “He’s great company.”
Frankie tossed the first batch of tomatoes into the bowl and glanced at her daughter. Her face was lit from the glow of her phone. “What’s got you so interested? Please tell me there’s not more online about your aunt.”
“No, nothing like that. Just doing a little research,” Willa answered distractedly. She looked up. “What’s for dinner?”
Harper answered. “Mediterranean chickpea salad with grilled chicken and lemon dressing.”
“That sounds good,” Willa said. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Set the table,” Frankie answered. “But wash your hands first. You were just picking up poop. I assume.”
Willa rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yes, Mom.”
She set her phone down and went to the sink to clean up, then got plates and silverware out.
They all worked in companionable silence for a while, Willa setting the table, Harper whisking the dressing, and Frankie chopping. She’d moved on to the parsley, but her mind was not on her work.
It was on Shar.
Frankie was still upset, but she was calming down and trying to think of what she’d have done in Shar’s position. Would she have told Willa and Jason if they’d had siblings that Frankie had lost custody of?
Boy, that was a hard one. Shar undoubtedly felt a lot of guilt and shame over what had happened all those years ago, but didn’t her children deserve to know the truth?
Frankie thought they did. But when she put herself in Shar’s shoes, she could understand just how hard it would be to tell her kids. Frankie, like most mothers, wanted to be as perfect as she could be for her kids.
Admitting she’d caused something so awful to happen would be incredibly difficult.
Her feelings toward Shar softened a bit. Didn’t mean she wasn’t still hurt and angry. Earlier, when she’d been telling Willa everything that had happened, Willa had said she’d want to know if there were other siblings. She’d gone as far as to say she thought it was unfair to keep that information a secret.
Thankfully, Frankie didn’t have those kinds of secrets. She didn’t have any, really. Well, there was that speeding ticket she’d gotten two years ago when she’d been late for a meeting, but that wasn’t the same thing as children no one knew about.
Willa was on the couch now, back on her phone. Archie was curled up next to her, clearly happy to be near the person who’d most recently given him a cookie. Harper had the chicken breasts seasoned and was waiting for the grill pan to heat up.
“Willa,” Frankie called her daughter’s name softly.
Willa looked over. “Need me to do something else?”
“No, just wanted to tell you that Mitch invited us all out on his boat.”
Willa grinned. “Seriously? That is epically cool. Can I Instagram that? Or will he not like that? Aunt Harper?”
Harper laid the first piece of chicken onto the oiled pan. As it sizzled, she turned to answer. “I’ll ask him. I don’t really know what he’d think of it, but my intuition says probably not. He’s a pretty private person.”
“Yeah, okay,” Willa said. She looked a little disappointed.
“Although,” Harper said. “If you do share pictures and don’t say anything about it being his boat or mention him or whatever, I’m sure that would be fine.” She smiled. “Not as fun, I know.”
Willa nodded. “I really don’t like to use my social media for bragging, but being on Mitchell Ripley’s boat? With him? And Lucas Prime? Even my professors would be impressed with that.”
Frankie smiled. “Lucas wouldn’t care.”
Harper went back to the chicken. “I get it. I’ll talk to Mitch.”
“Thanks.” Willa was lost in her phone again, squinted at it, studying it. Using her fingers to scroll and make pictures bigger.
Frankie had no idea what she was researching. Seemed pretty interesting, though.
Harper was pulling the chicken breasts out of the pan when Willa finally got up and came over.
“Mom, you said the name of your biological father was Buck McCandless?”
Frankie nodded. “That’s right.”
Harper’s curious glance didn’t go unnoticed.
“How old do you think he’d be?”
“Now?” Frankie asked.
“He’s dead,” Harper interjected.
“Yeah,” Willa said. “But how old would he be now if he wasn’t?”
Frankie looked at Harper and shrugged. “Seventy-seven? Seventy-eight?”
Harper nodded. “Probably something like that.” She stared hard at Willa. “Why are you asking about him?”
Willa glanced at her phone one more time, then turned it around and showed them the screen. It was a Google search on the name Buck McCandless. A long list of search results filled the page.
“Because,” Willa said. “I’m pretty sure he’s still alive.”