Читать книгу Instant Family - Donna Gartshore - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Ben hadn’t meant to grab Frankie’s hand, but when he saw her face turn white with shock, he wondered if he’d have to put his arms around her to keep her steady on her feet.

Then she stabilized and immediately concerned herself with Rae.

“I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea,” she said to her daughter, whose eyes were welling up with the cruel disappointment of the situation.

Frankie excavated her hand from Ben’s and gathered Rae into a hug.

“Shh,” she said gently, patting Rae’s back. “I know you’re disappointed, but we’ll find something else to do.” Above Rae’s head, Frankie’s face was stricken and Ben could see her willing herself to stay strong for her daughter.

Ben fought a surge of anger and frustration. No one needed this vandalism to ruin and complicate their summers. Why was God allowing this to happen when he’d had such a simple hope—just to have a chance to feel right with his father again? And it was clear that Frankie needed something from the summer for her and Rae, too. Even if it was just to relax and have fun, why couldn’t they have that? Was it too much to ask?

He wondered how he could best offer comfort to them, and then Al shifted restlessly beside him and made a rumbling, whining noise in his throat.

“That—that—girl.” He pointed at Rae.

“Yes, she’s sad.” We’re all sad, he wanted to add, and maybe the saddest thing of all was that there was a time that he would have understood—a time when he would have been the first to offer comfort—but now he didn’t understand at all.

Ben looked around, assessing the situation. He wanted to ask for details, to see if anyone there had seen or heard anything suspicious before this latest incident. He patted the pockets of his shorts, hoping he would find something he could give to his dad to keep him preoccupied. He spotted three stones on the ground of similar size and shape. He helped Al to get crouched down and demonstrated how to put the stones in rows.

“Have you heard anything, Brent?” he asked one of the men standing nearby whom he’d known for several years.

“Not much. But some kids were walking home after the late show and they say it was fine when they passed it. That would have been around eleven thirty last night.”

“Is there damage to the inside? Is that why the doors are barred?” His building contractor’s mind automatically began to speculate and make assessments.

Brent shrugged helplessly. “Can’t say for sure. Probably, and if there is, well, we all know that means this has gone from inconvenient to something much worse. All I know right now is that there are a lot of very disappointed kids.”

“I know,” Ben said grimly. Was this his time to step up and fill the void that his dad would have filled? Was he meant to offer a solution or at least some comfort and reassurance?

Please guide me, Lord.

* * *

A quick glance told Ben that his father was still occupied with the stones. His gaze then sought out Frankie and Rae and he saw that they were engaged in conversation with the volunteer who’d had the run-in with Al.

Anxiety nudged at him, as he thought of the unfortunate incident involving his father. He wanted to make sure the volunteer wasn’t going to harass Frankie. At the same time, though, he wasn’t sure how long he could trust the reprieve from his father’s demands.

Al scooped up the stones, looked at them a moment and then began to line them up again, carefully, one by one. Ben took the opportunity to make his way quickly to Frankie.

“Is everything okay here?” he asked, keeping his tone light as he searched Frankie’s face for any signs of additional stress.

But when she turned to acknowledge him, her face was soft, her eyes bright.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m just having a nice chat with Lydia here.”

Lydia nodded at Ben and had the good grace to look chagrined.

“I recognized Frankie from the other day,” she confessed. “I wanted to find you and apologize. I feel horrible about the way I acted.”

“Apology accepted,” Ben said. “I usually keep close tabs on him, but he slipped away from me that morning, so I apologize for what happened, too. I know Dad’s outbursts can be frightening but he can’t help it.”

“I realize that now,” Lydia said. “Frankie here was helping me understand a few things about the disease. You’re lucky to have a friend who cares so much about you and your dad.”

Ben’s eyes sought Frankie’s and he was surprised when she blushed, but couldn’t help feeling a bit pleased about it. He told himself that was only because it was nice for anyone to discover they had support.

“I know,” he said softly. “We are very lucky.”

“Well, again, I am sorry,” Lydia said. “It’s no excuse, but things really have been stressful around here. Everyone is on edge, not knowing who to trust, wondering who’s going to get hit next.” She shook her head ruefully. “I guess we got our answer this morning.”

Frankie put her hands on Rae’s shoulders. Rae, Ben thought, looked like a sad and deflated balloon compared to her buoyancy of just a few minutes ago.

“Isn’t there somewhere else they could teach a class,” he asked, “even if it’s just art and they’re not able to build the displays?” He thought for a moment and snapped his fingers as realization struck him.

“What about over at the library? They have extra rooms over there. One of them should work for an art class.”

“I’ll go ask,” Lydia said. With a decisive nod she headed off.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get this fixed,” Ben told Rae.

Above her daughter’s head, Frankie’s face showed her disconcertment.

“We?” she asked.

“I just thought...”

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Ben couldn’t help the humor that quirked his mouth. “Think?”

She rewarded him with a roll of her expressive brown eyes.

“Please don’t think that you have to fix everything for us.”

“I didn’t think it would hurt to ask if other arrangements could be made.” He scanned the group and located his father. “I have to get back to Dad. I hope Rae gets to do her art today. I know how much she was looking forward to it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Frankie said.

An uneasy silence hung between them. Frankie angled her body slightly in the other direction and gave Rae’s shoulders a little squeeze.

A few seconds later, Lydia came bustling back to them, looking slightly out of breath.

“There’s a room at the library,” she announced. “The kids can do art there, and they can stay and see what other activities are going on or just look at books, whatever they want. If your little girl would like to come, you can walk her over in about half an hour—they just need some time to get set up—and you can pick her up at lunchtime, if that’s okay.”

“What do you think?” Frankie asked Rae. “Would you like to go?”

Rae shrugged, then looked up and nodded. A soft light began to make its way back into her eyes.

Ben was relieved he was there to see it. Whether Frankie wanted his help or not, he didn’t know if he could just sit back and do nothing when he could help in some way—not only them but the whole town. So far the vandalism had just been sprayed paint and graffiti, but if there was now the possibility of fixing and rebuilding to be done, he had expertise to contribute in that area and wanted to do so.

He knew he couldn’t make up for the times he had been absent—they were over and gone—but at least he could do this. His heart clenched as the thought came that he wished his dad could be proud of him. Then he felt that familiar rip of divided emotions when he recalled that his caregiver’s role was growing by the day. He didn’t know how he would find the time to manage his father and do something for the community, as well.

“Thank you,” Frankie said to Lydia. It seemed she had chosen to ignore Ben’s role in the backup plan.

Ben walked back to Al, who gave up his stones without a fuss and allowed Ben to lead him by the hand back to where Frankie and Lydia were chatting.

Frankie asked Lydia, “How’s this all going to get cleaned up? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’ll let you know,” Lydia said. “I’m sure there’ll be a meeting of some kind to figure out a plan.” She grimaced slightly. “I should say, yet another plan. Anyway, thanks for asking.”

“Keep me posted, too,” Ben interjected. “You’re new here, Lydia, so you don’t know that I have a general contracting company and I’d be happy to offer my advice and assistance any way I can.”

“Thank you, we appreciate that,” Lydia said. “Speaking of helping out, I’d better get back up there and see what I can do.”

“What are you going to do while Rae’s at her art class?” Ben asked. He tried to pass it off as a simple conversational question, but he was genuinely curious.

Frankie shrugged her shoulders and looked slightly wary. “I don’t have any real plans. Maybe go for a walk or something.” Once again, Ben had the distinct impression that she had plans she didn’t wish to share with him. There was really no reason she should, he reminded himself.

“Dad will want to walk, too, if you don’t mind...?” He let the question hang between them.

“Maybe I’ll catch up with you later,” Frankie answered, after a pause. “After I take Rae to the library.” Her face was unreadable and she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

* * *

“I’ll be back here right at noon to get you,” Frankie told Rae as she got her settled at the library. “So, don’t worry and...”

“I’m not worried, Mom,” Rae said. “Don’t you worry—go have fun.”

Frankie smiled at her daughter’s rather parental proclamation and kissed Rae on the top of her head.

“I’ll do my best.”

Sometimes when she was separated from Rae, Frankie felt slightly at a loss over what she would do to pass the time. It was a familiar sensation to the one she had at home when Rae was out playing with a friend—in the days before she had become so withdrawn—or having a sleepover at Nana and Pops’s house.

She considered remaining at the library, telling herself that it would be relaxing to find a magazine to read. It didn’t take long to dismiss that idea. No doubt, Rae would find it lame, as she described things that did not impress her, to have her mother hovering while she was in class. Besides, Frankie reminded herself, she was here to consider how to get her own life back in order, too, and to simply enjoy the beautiful surroundings.

Frankie wondered what Ben was doing and then rapidly tried to stop. But a disturbing truth nudged at her heart. She was upset with herself in the ways she had let him into their lives already and wanted to put a halt to that before she found herself unwittingly dependent on him. Because he was bound to let her down—that’s what men did.

She decided to go for a walk and take the time to check out some of the shops, which she had not done thoroughly yet. She thought she might also pop back around to the Nature Center to see if Lydia had found anything else out about the help that was needed.

Things had certainly taken an interesting turn with regard to Lydia. After the way they had met, Frankie hadn’t expected an apology or the sense that she and the volunteer worker might actually get along. The women in a small Bible study group that Frankie had once belonged to would call it a “God thing,” an idea that she immediately wanted to dismiss...yet, it lingered faintly with her.

Lydia, Frankie thought, might be a refreshing change: she was a little rough around the edges, but she had readily admitted her wrongdoing and Frankie thought there was a lot of promise in that.

A stop by the Nature Center revealed that it was still locked up, and the crowd had dispersed except for a police officer and a man discussing something. Frankie couldn’t hear their words, but the tension in their body postures made it apparent that it wasn’t an easy conversation. The suit the man wore was a loud declaration that he was a visitor and not part of the regular beach community.

The problem, Frankie thought, as she looked around for Lydia, was that her time hadn’t really felt like her own for years, and now that she had it she hardly knew what to do with herself.

She couldn’t see Lydia anywhere, so she kept walking.

Frankie recalled the way her ex-husband had frequently reminded her that she was lucky to have him, always pointing out what he considered flaws in her appearance and shortcomings in her personality.

Ben wouldn’t treat his wife that way. The thought came unbidden and rattled her.

She heard footsteps hurrying up behind her and turned to see Lydia catching up.

“Did you come by the center again?” Lydia asked. “Sorry if I missed you. My boss wanted to look around inside and see if there’s damage in there but the police don’t want us to move or touch anything, so they’ve sent me on an early break while they decide what needs to be done next.”

“I’m a bit at loose ends myself,” Frankie confessed. “I’m just walking, if you want to join me.”

Lydia fell into place beside her.

“What else is being said?” Frankie asked. “About the vandalism, I mean?”

“Not too much, at least to me,” Lydia said. “As you can probably tell, I’m a bit of a fish out of water here—no pun intended. I was supposed to be helping the curator at the Western Development Museum in Saskatoon, but that fell through at the last minute, so I ended up here. It’s not bad, just not what I’d hoped for.”

Frankie thought about how familiar she was with the feeling of things not working out the way she hoped.

“Hey, he’s pretty good-looking. Ben, I mean,” Lydia said. “How long have you been friends?”

“A little while,” Frankie murmured vaguely. For a moment, she was tempted to divulge her ruse, but Lydia started talking about something else and the moment passed.

“You seem like a bit of a fish out of water, too,” Lydia said bluntly. “I mean, I can tell you don’t know people around here the way your friend does. So, what’s your story?”

Frankie had been so used to avoiding the topic and feeling constantly burdened with shame that she was surprised to hear the words “I’m divorced,” come out of her mouth. And even more surprised to feel how good it felt to say them to someone she didn’t have any history with or owe any explanation to.

Lydia just nodded. “That’s tough,” she said. “So—what’s next?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out this summer.”

“You’ll get there,” Lydia said in a comfortable way. “Do you journal? I find that’s a good way to sort through things and figure out where you want life to take you. It always works for me.”

The thought came into Frankie’s mind that Lydia didn’t look like the journaling type, but she was learning that you could never tell what people had inside of them—good or bad—by how they looked.

“That might be a good idea,” she said, pondering. “Is there somewhere in town that sells journals?”

“Maeve’s Miscellaneous. It’s right beside the beauty salon. We can walk that way, if you like.”

Frankie nodded. “I know where that is.”

Maeve’s Miscellaneous was an overcrowded shop that, true to its name, featured an eclectic collection of items ranging from kitchen gadgets and packets of spices to silk scarves and handcrafted jewelry.

“The journals are usually up by the front,” Lydia said, leading Frankie through the maze. “Ah, yes, here we are.”

Frankie selected one that had a white cover with a monarch butterfly on the front—it reminded her that she, too, was on a long journey of sorts.

“So, what do you think you’ll write about?” Lydia asked when they were back outside again. “Your goals? Never mind—you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to become a nurse,” Frankie said. Once again, it felt good to say the words out loud. She explained the work she had done up to this point and how she felt she had an affinity for it and could do more if she was properly trained.

“Write it down,” Lydia urged. “If you write it down, you’ll have a better chance of really committing to it.” She looked at her watch. “I have to get back to the center. Listen, you should take one of the delicious cinnamon buns from the Beachfront Confectionery, go down to the beach, and take your journal there and just write. Maybe write your questions about him, too.”

“Him?” Frankie asked.

“Your friend, Ben. And don’t even pretend that you haven’t wondered if you could ever be more than friends. The air is pretty thick between you two.”

Her head buzzing with Lydia’s comment about Ben, Frankie bought a cinnamon bun at the Beachfront Confectionery and carried it and her journal to a relatively quiet spot on the beach. She positioned herself half in the shade, rested back against a rather large rock, opened her journal and paused. She looked out at the water and took a reflective bite of the bun.

It took some effort, but she pushed Lydia’s parting remarks to the back of her mind. She meant well, Frankie was sure, but clearly she didn’t always know what she was talking about. She took the last bite, and dusted the cinnamon and sugar off her fingers with a napkin. She opened her journal and quickly, decisively, wrote, “Become a Nurse” and circled it three times.

Immediately, dissenting thoughts began to quarrel with her: Where will you get the money? What about Rae? Shouldn’t her needs come first? You’ve been out of school for a lot of years now, Frankie. Are you sure you’re not just setting yourself up to fail?

She put her pen to the side and clenched the new journal, willing herself not to succumb to the negative thoughts. She looked out at the water and tried to use its gently rolling pulse as a way to focus and calm herself.

Then she heard, faintly, a shout in the distance.

She turned her head in the direction of the noise and could see Ben and Al standing on a dock, at the end closest to the water.

It was funny, Frankie mused with a strange twinge in her stomach. She knew with complete certainty it was them, even from her vantage point. She would like to be able to say that it was only Al’s hunched, apprehensive posture, typical of those with Alzheimer’s, that gave them away. But the truth was that her eyes would know the strong lines of Ben’s physique anywhere. Lydia’s observation pushed its way back to the forefront of her thoughts again.

She couldn’t help watching them to see what they were doing.

It appeared that Ben was trying to draw his father’s attention to something. He had his hand on one of Al’s shoulders and seemed to be trying to gently turn him while he pointed out at the water.

Al kept moving his shoulder out from Ben’s touch. Frankie could see by his body language that he was becoming increasingly agitated. His voice grew louder as he began to shift quickly, almost frantically back and forth.

She could see Ben trying to soothe him, trying to take hold of his father’s arms, which Al had begun to thrash around.

Then Al suddenly stopped and, in a quicksilver flash, his arms shot out, his hands pushing hard at Ben’s chest.

Frankie gasped as she watched Ben stumble back, frantically spinning his arms to regain his balance. His efforts failed and he flew off the dock, landing in the water with a large splash.