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Instant Family
Donna Gartshore
The Single Mom Next DoorSummer at a picturesque Silver Lake resort marks a new beginning for Frankie Munro and her daughter. After a painful marriage, the single mom shies away from any personal connection—though she admires the tender care handsome neighbor Ben Cedar shows his dad. Ben wasn’t there for his mother when it counted, so he’s determined to help his father cope with Alzheimer’s. Yet it’s Frankie’s shy ten-year-old daughter, Rae, who really gets through to his dad. As their relatives bond and flourish, so do Ben and Frankie’s feelings for each other. Before the season ends, can they let go of their pasts and fight for a second chance…together?


The Single Mom Next Door
Summer at a picturesque Silver Lake resort marks a new beginning for Frankie Munro and her daughter. After a painful marriage, the single mom shies away from any personal connection—though she admires the tender care handsome neighbor Ben Cedar shows his dad. Ben wasn’t there for his mother when it counted, so he’s determined to help his father cope with Alzheimer’s. Yet it’s Frankie’s shy ten-year-old daughter, Rae, who really gets through to his dad. As their relatives bond and flourish, so do Ben and Frankie’s feelings for each other. Before the season ends, can they let go of their pasts and fight for a second chance...together?
“What are you thinking about?”
Why, Ben wondered, did her radar always zero in on him when he least wanted it to?
He hesitated. It wasn’t likely that he could put his conflicting thoughts into a coherent explanation even if he wanted to. Frankie remained silent, sipping her own coffee and looking away from him.
Finally he answered, “I’m thinking about Dad and wondering what I should do.”
Frankie did look at him then, and her eyes—beautiful eyes, Ben thought, not for the first time—were filled with understanding.
“Maybe I can help?” she offered. “I mean, I can’t make the decision for you, but I’ve observed a lot of seniors and I’ve seen what their families go through. It might help even to just talk about it.”
“It might,” Ben conceded. But he stayed silent. And while it was true that his thoughts were always edged with worry about his father, he was also trying to comprehend the mixture of traits—hard and defensive, soft and empathetic—that composed his summer neighbor.
Dear Reader (#uf6885087-bd1a-52d8-a959-94f34d9eca6a),
I’m so excited to share my debut novel with you! Thank you for coming on this journey with Ben and Frankie.
It meant a lot to me to write this book for a few different reasons. My father suffered with Alzheimer’s disease before he passed away and, like Ben says, I missed the person he had been long before he actually died. He wasn’t a pastor like Ben’s father, but was a journalist who taught me my love of books and writing and always encouraged me to write. Many of Al’s behaviors are modeled on my dad’s, but I know that it’s a complex disease that can affect people in many different ways.
I am also a single mom like Frankie—my husband passed away of heart disease several years ago. In writing about Ben, I thought about my husband’s kind heart, sense of humor and work ethic.
More than anything, though, I wanted to write a book about second chances. Of course, I thought a great deal about my dad and my husband, and sometimes had a few tears, but more than anything I thought of the many blessings that I’ve been given as life has continued on—my daughter, my family, my friends, my writing community and, now, readers like you.
Life has unexpected turns, but I believe in God and I still believe in happy endings!
I’m active on social media. Find me on Twitter at @gartshoredonna (https://twitter.com/gartshoredonna?) and on Facebook at facebook.com/dlgartshore (https://www.facebook.com/dlgartshore/). Feel free to email me at deelynn1000@hotmail.com. Come find me—I love to talk about books and writing and hear what people’s goals and dreams are.
Thanks again!
Donna
DONNA GARTSHORE loves reading and writing. She also writes short stories, poetry and devotionals. She often veers off to the book section in the grocery store when she should be buying food. Besides talking about books and writing, Donna loves spending time with her daughter, Sunday family suppers and engaging online with the writing community.
Instant Family
Donna Gartshore


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart;
and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge Him,
and He shall direct thy paths.
—Proverbs 3:5–6
This book is dedicated in memory of my father,
Ian Franklin Bickle, and my husband,
James Douglas Gartshore.
And it is for Sara Gartshore, who has made
every single day of being her mom a blessing,
and for my family, near and far, who mean more
to me than I can express.
Thanks also to my wonderful editor,
Melissa Endlich, for giving me this chance.
Contents
Cover (#u8eb28357-e36a-5632-8230-0980a03d87cc)
Back Cover Text (#u4b1eb111-b52e-55d0-8e1c-077628df1dbb)
Introduction (#ufaffc80b-296d-54f2-aede-f469e3fb1952)
Dear Reader (#uf466e963-df31-51b8-9835-008dab27d1b3)
About the Author (#u53e15e15-9814-5f2b-9069-15b672ef91c9)
Title Page (#u397444de-8985-531b-b380-813a1d61fad3)
Bible Verse (#ua4b4ef10-a632-5090-ba73-5ae0c89fe5d0)
Dedication (#ue43e893b-12d3-564e-bf77-d060d1a0f789)
Chapter One (#uc9f1fc15-25a7-563c-a694-da8541ced390)
Chapter Two (#u8de8ade0-8061-5296-8eba-b2b8dd307346)
Chapter Three (#ufa124c58-a6f6-531d-8e9e-52b38a2d1769)
Chapter Four (#ua80de85e-416d-519c-9869-59d1808601d3)
Chapter Five (#u13ba14e4-bd57-5ff6-9567-0c070e6f2ce8)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uf6885087-bd1a-52d8-a959-94f34d9eca6a)
“Is this the surprise you talked about, Mom?”
Somewhere in her mind, Frankie Munro registered her daughter’s tremulous question and felt Rae’s small, sweaty hand clutching her own. But she couldn’t find the words to answer her.
A surprise, indeed, but not a pleasant one and not at all the one she had been planning to share.
The cabin that she had booked for the summer was covered in violent-looking splashes of paint and offensive graffiti. In no way did it represent the rustic yet pristine atmosphere she had pored over in the brochures advertising Silver Lake Park in Saskatchewan, Canada. It had been a six-hour drive from their home in Regina, Saskatchewan, and they had passed the time talking of the possibility of bear sightings with a kind of gleeful fear, and speculating how cold the water would be.
Since Frankie’s husband walked out on them several months ago, she wanted to do something to return the light to Rae’s eyes. Rae was an intuitive ten-year-old with an advanced talent for art, but it had been months since Frankie had seen her enthusiastic about drawing or painting. She hoped that spending the summer together, away from their house and the memories it held, would help return a spark of artistic interest to Rae, and with that would come a return to the happy, inquisitive girl she had been.
She hoped the time away would help restore some of her own motivation, too. She’d had goals—she wanted to be a nurse—and although those goals had been put on the back burner due to her ex-husband’s demands, they still simmered within her. Frankie wanted to use the summer to rediscover the woman she had been before Trevor left: the woman who’d had goals...the woman who’d had faith.
Frankie worked as a nurse’s aide at a senior-care home in Regina. She usually liked her job very much and had a true affinity for the seniors she worked with. But in the months after her husband left, she’d been a mass of nerves, mistakes and indecisions, until the manager of the home had called her in and explained that she had to take some time off and find an effective way to deal with her obvious stress.
Thus, a paid leave of absence, combined with financial help from her parents, which Frankie had accepted only after they signed a note saying she would pay them back in full as soon as she could, cleared the pathway for her to plan this summer getaway with Rae.
Research and word of mouth had brought her to the conclusion that Silver Lake looked like a positive place with the right balance of nature and town activities. The beautifully scenic photographs of trees, flowers and local animals gave her hope that Rae would feel compelled to capture them on canvas. As the plans came together, her hope for a new start began to grow tentatively. She had not yet decided if that new start would include a church.
But now, as they looked at the vandalized cabin, Frankie prayed silently, an ache of regret in her throat. God, I wanted You to meet us here.
Suddenly, rapid footsteps came up behind them and Frankie spun quickly around. The man approaching them was very handsome. He was also very angry.
“What are you doing?” the stranger demanded. His dark blue eyes seemed to give off sparks of fury. “Why are you lurking around these cabins?”
Frankie attempted to give Rae a reassuring smile and stepped in front of her, adopting a defensive stance. Not that she thought she had any real hope of intimidating this stranger, since she stood at five foot four and he had to be at least six feet tall. Still, if he imagined he was going to threaten them or get anywhere near her daughter, she’d do whatever she could to prove him wrong.
“We’re not lurking,” Frankie told him, hoping that if she spoke loudly enough it would mask the way her voice was shaking. “I paid to rent this cabin and we get here and—this!” Her hand flipped toward the vandalized cabin with a gesture that managed to be both defiant and defeated.
The man studied them with a speculative look on his face, then relaxed his shoulders and stepped back.
* * *
Ben Cedar felt decidedly chagrined. He had thought the small, slight figure wearing cutoff shorts, a T-shirt and a baseball cap was a teenage boy, with his little sister, but he’d already launched into his tirade before he realized his mistake.
This woman, whoever she was, might be dressed in a boyish fashion, but up close she was unmistakably female. He didn’t think he’d ever seen skin quite as smooth and golden peachy or features so delicate. He could see the sheer resilience it took for her to keep her brown eyes locked to his. Behind her, the girl peeked out, her eyes wide and her hands over her mouth.
Ben felt even worse and tried to give the little girl a friendly smile, but she gave an audible gasp and retreated.
The woman looked like she would take great pleasure in maiming him or worse.
“I’m sorry,” he said, attempting to rectify the situation. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He tried to push out another smile, but the truth was that he didn’t need any more complications added to his summer—or to his life—and he just wanted the misunderstanding to go away as quickly as possible.
The woman didn’t answer, but her expression clearly said that he wasn’t convincing her.
“My name’s Ben Cedar,” he said, making another attempt. “My father and I are here for the summer. We’ve spent every summer here since I was a kid. My mom used to...” He stopped himself and said more briskly, “Well, anyway, yours isn’t the only cabin to be vandalized. It’s been happening all over the place and some of the town businesses have been hit, too. It’s really put a damper on people’s vacations.” Regret darkened his eyes. “It’s a real shame, too,” he said. “This has always been such a great place for families. I have a lot of happy memories here. I don’t know what’s gone wrong, though I have some suspicions.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but my daughter and I don’t appreciate being accused,” the woman said. Despite the slight tremor in her voice, her stiff posture and rigid mouth told Ben that she wasn’t about to concede her ground easily.
Lord, please help me make this right.
“Hello, there!” said another voice.
Ben closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a pulse of anxiety. Now was definitely not the time for his father to make a scene. He silently reminded himself to be patient. His dad couldn’t help his behavior and, besides, having one last memorable summer with him was one of the main reasons that Ben was here.
Ben thought about what was facing him at summer’s end, and an acute ache pulsed behind his eyes. But he couldn’t dwell on that now. The time to move his father into full-time care loomed soon enough without him letting his worry about it devour the days they had here.
His father grinned and waved happily at the little girl, and Ben braced himself.
“Would you like to walk down to the beach with me and look for seashells?” he asked her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to say to a little girl he had never met.
Ben saw the woman study his father for a moment, and then a glimmer of understanding crept into her eyes.
“Dad, we don’t know these people,” he said, willing a gentle voice, almost as if speaking to a child. “And you know what I’ve told you about talking to strangers.”
The man hung his head and shuffled his feet back and forth in the dirt on the road between the cabins. The action stirred up a small cloud of dust.
“Did you have your nap?” Ben asked.
His dad shrugged and his open face threatened to collapse into a scowl.
Ben pretended not to notice the change in his dad’s mood and pushed away the foreboding in his own gut. It was, he reminded himself, the least he could do to take care of his father. Especially since there were times that he hadn’t been there when he should have been.
“You know I told you that if you had a nap and gave me some time to get some things done, I would take you for ice cream,” Ben said, pushing down the surge of guilt that threatened to rise up into his throat. The last thing he needed was to feel more guilt over this woman and girl he didn’t even know.
The man’s mouth made shapes without any words coming out and he kicked the dirt harder, in an expression of inarticulate frustration.
“Mom?” The girl tugged on her mother’s hand and whispered loudly, “What’s wrong with that man?”
“Rae...” the woman began to protest.
“It’s okay,” Ben said, directing his words to her. “My father has Alzheimer’s disease. I’m not sure how to explain that to your little girl.”
Her lovely brown eyes searched his face for a moment and then she gave a small nod. She glanced down at the girl.
“I’ll explain later, Rae.” She looked at Ben again. “Any ideas on what I can do about the cabin?”
“If you can wait until I get my dad settled again, I’ll take you down to the office and you can talk to the people who manage these cabins.”
“Will they be able to do anything about it? I think I should go talk to them right away.”
“They’ve been getting cleaning crews out. If you can hold off just a bit, it might help if I go with you. They’ve known Dad and me for a long time.”
Ben’s father started to wander off and Ben reached out and took his hand. They tussled briefly as the older man tried to get away, but eventually he calmed down and allowed his son to lead him back toward their cabin.
“There’s a good place for ice cream just at the end of the walk,” Ben said over his shoulder. “Turn right. It’s the place with all the big umbrellas.”
After a challenging ten minutes or so, Ben got his father settled back into their cabin and gave him a pile of hand towels to fold to keep him preoccupied. He found that repetitive activities calmed his father.
Ben eased himself out the cabin door, locking it behind him. He walked quickly, then broke into a jog, anxious to get to the Ice Cream Adventure as soon as possible. He had to admit that it wasn’t only because he was worried about what his Dad might do if he got bored of folding and realized that he had been left alone in the cabin. He told himself that he just wanted to get the situation rectified as quickly as possible. But something about the woman—her fragility, combined with her obvious determination to be strong—tugged at him.
When he spotted them sitting under a gaudy orange umbrella, nibbling and licking at ice-cream cones, Ben breathed a thankful prayer.
He paused a moment to gather himself. He’d already made a bad first impression and he didn’t want to swoop down on them like he was on a hunt.
“Hi,” he said, as he drew near to their table. “I see you waited.”
The woman studied him as if she was trying to decide what would be an appropriate response. Ben noticed how long her eyelashes were, framing her large, expressive eyes.
Finally, she said, “Well, there wasn’t really much else we could do, was there?” She looked at her little girl to signify she didn’t want to alarm her any more than she had been.
Her tone was mild enough, but it made Ben squirm a little.
“I’d really like it if we could start fresh,” he said. “So, when you’re finished your ice cream, I’d be happy to go with you to the office to explain the situation and make sure you get the help you need.”
The last part of his statement made the woman suddenly sit up straight in her chair and square her shoulders.
“Thank you for your concern,” she said in a polite tone with frosted tips, “but I’ll figure something out.”
The little girl nibbled her ice-cream cone like a nervous mouse and her eyes darted up to Ben, back to her mother and back to Ben again.
“Look,” Ben said, “I know it was wrong of me to take my stress out on you, but can you please forgive me so we can move past it?”
Was it his imagination, or did her mouth stiffen a bit at the word forgive?
She shrugged. “Okay, no big deal. We all have stress, right?”
Ben found himself wanting to ask her what she was stressed about. You don’t need to know, he reminded himself. You have enough of your own to deal with right now.
These days, it felt like it was nothing more than sheer effort, coupled with a long-standing faith, that kept him from wondering why he bothered with God. Yet, although his father’s disease now challenged Ben, it was his father who had taught him in the first place to trust God in all situations.
The tough times are when you have to lean on him harder than ever, his father had always said.
Lord, I’m leaning as hard as I can. Please help me to trust that You won’t let me fall.
He shook himself out of his reverie and realized that the child was watching him warily.
She was a cute little girl, he thought, although a bit unkempt, with the ends of her braids going fuzzy in the humidity and her glasses sitting a bit lopsided on her nose. He also noted that she must take after her father, wherever he was, because her features were round and soft, whereas her mother’s features were small and delicate. Regardless, he certainly wasn’t going to ask.
“I won’t force my help on you,” Ben said, looking from one to another, “but please let me know if you need anything. Since we’re going to be neighbors for the summer, I hope we can get along. I’m Ben Cedar.”
The woman scrutinized his face again. Ben wished he could ask her what she was looking for, although he sensed that she might not be able to answer that question even if she wanted to. Then she gave a brief sharp nod as if she’d made a decision.
“Frankie,” she said. “And my daughter is Rae.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ben said. He noticed that ice cream from Frankie’s cone was melting its sweet and sticky way down her arm while she kept her eyes on him.
He looked away. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate it being pointed out to her.
“Frankie?” he said, instead. “Is that a nickname for something? Frances? Or Francesca?”
“Francesca,” she repeated with a little snort of laughter that surprised him. “Um, no. I’m not exactly the Francesca type. My Mom’s favorite book is The Member of the Wedding, but I doubt you’ve heard of it.”
“I remember there was an old movie,” Ben replied. “Julie Harris, right?”
He felt a certain degree of satisfaction when Frankie blinked her surprise.
“I watched it with my dad one night,” he said. “It was on the late show, some channel where they play old movies.”
Mentioning his dad brought a rush of trepidation to Ben. He really had to get back to the cabin.
Frankie noticed her arm and, with a quick, somewhat accusing glance in his direction, began to wipe the ice cream off with a napkin.
“Are you done?” she said to Rae. “We’d better go see someone about our cabin. It’s going to be fine,” she hurried to reassure her daughter, who suddenly looked like a wizened and worried little old woman. “It’s going to be just fine. I promise.”
Ben thought that the little girl would have no idea what it cost her mother to make that promise, and he could see the sheer will it took for Frankie to keep a smile on her face for the sake of her daughter.
He made a decision then and sent a quick prayer up to the Lord daring to ask Him to bless what was quite possibly the most inane idea he’d ever had. Still, if it would fix the problem and let him get his focus back on why this summer was so important to him—the amends he needed to make—he was willing to take the chance.
“I have a great idea. You’ll take our cabin,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt, “and we’ll move into yours.” He wondered how he would get his father and their belongings relocated. But the words were out and there was no way he was taking them back.
“If you can just find something to do for another hour or so, I’ll stop into the office and make all the arrangements.”
“I need to let them know I’m here,” Frankie protested.
Ben braced himself to stand his ground.
“Could we please, Mom?” Rae’s small voice floated up like a hopeful balloon between them. “I really want a nice cabin like you promised.”
“Please let me do this,” Ben said, nodding his head toward Rae. “I can explain everything to them and you and your daughter can just relax for a bit, and then we’ll call it even.”
“Even?” Frankie retorted. “What have I done for you?”
“You’ll be doing something for me by letting me make up for the misunderstanding,” Ben said.
* * *
Frankie held Rae’s hands as they took their time looking at the displays in the Nature Center. At least Rae looked, and Frankie was grateful that her daughter was occupied. It gave her time to try to organize her own thoughts, which had been jumping from place to place like a skittish cat since they had first laid eyes on their vandalized cabin.
First and foremost, she absolutely had to make sure this summer was a healing time for Rae. As well, she had come to Silver Lake seeking to regain and strengthen her own independence, so she was not happy about needing help from a stranger almost from their first moment there. She hadn’t even wanted to accept financial help from her own parents. When she had heard Ben say that the beach community had been plagued with vandalism this summer, she had fought hard against the feeling that her goals for the summer would fail.
Frankie’s thoughts jumped to Ben. She wasn’t at all sure what to think of him, and at the same time asked herself why she should bother thinking about him at all.
Yet, even if his physical appeal wasn’t enough to draw her attention, there was a complexity about him that intrigued her more than she wanted to admit. He was apologetic and polite on the surface, though she sensed that something darker simmered beneath, as if he had plenty of his own troubles—or secrets—to worry about... Still, his concern and gentleness with his father was evident, and he had insisted on giving up his cabin for them, people he didn’t even know. What kind of person did something like that?
She felt an impatient yank on her hand, which meant Rae had been trying to get her attention.
“Look!” Rae said. “There’s that man again.”
Had Ben come to find them? Frankie wondered.
But, no, the man who ambled with a shuffling gait among the displays, poking out his finger to touch the stuffed and mounted animals, was Ben’s father.
Chapter Two (#uf6885087-bd1a-52d8-a959-94f34d9eca6a)
Frankie wondered anxiously if she should approach him. Although she knew he shouldn’t be unattended, she had no idea how he would react to her. Where was Ben? Still, she had worked as an aide in a senior-care home since Rae was six, and almost by instinct she found herself moving toward Ben’s father.
Just before she reached him, a plump woman sporting a large name tag that proclaimed her as a Nature Center volunteer, stepped between them and said rather officiously, “Please don’t touch the displays, sir.”
Ben’s father weaved his head a bit like he was trying to focus on a faraway noise, and then he gave the standing bear, with its ferocious grimace, a little pat.
“I said don’t touch, sir!” the volunteer said more sharply. “Please step away!”
Ben’s father looked confused and his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. Suddenly Frankie had that swell of feeling she sometimes got at the care home—the one when she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
In another moment, though, any inclination to laugh was shoved aside abruptly.
The volunteer reached out and clasped his forearm.
Ben’s father’s eyes widened in shock and rage; his mouth flew open and a horrible cry came out of it. Then he shoved her with all of his might, causing her to lose her balance, stagger back a few steps and topple a display of pert-looking chipmunks.
Even before she could get to her feet, the volunteer was fumbling for her phone as she threatened to call Security.
Frankie’s eyes darted around and found Rae, who looked utterly stricken. She tried to smile reassuringly at her, but felt torn between going to soothe her daughter and staying to help Ben’s father.
Rae would have to understand, Frankie told herself. If she saw her mother being strong and helping someone when it was the right thing to do, it would benefit both of them.
The other patrons at the Nature Center had drifted awkwardly away from the scene, although, Frankie noted with wryness, they stayed close enough to see how things were going to unfold. She headed toward Ben’s father to offer assistance.
“Dad!” Ben’s voice drew her attention. He hurried toward them with a look of relief seasoned with a dash of frustration.
“Dad, I’m so glad you’re safe.” Temporarily unmindful of the chaos around him, Ben put his hands on his father’s shoulders and looked into his eyes before drawing him into a hug.
His flare of violent temper gone, Ben’s father subsided into his son’s arms like a docile child.
“I like animals,” he said softly.
“I know you do, Dad. I know. But you have to wait for me to bring you here. You can’t just disappear on me.”
While Ben spoke patiently to his father, Frankie watched a slight pulse at the corner of his eye that indicated how stressful the incident had been for him.
“So, I assume you’re the one responsible for this—this gentleman?” The volunteer had struggled to her feet and directed her question to Ben.
“He’s my father,” Ben replied. “Most folks know us around here,” he said, attempting to be friendly and smooth things over. “So, I take it you’re new? How long have—”
“Well, I suggest you keep him under control,” she said, “before he hurts someone else.”
“He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ben said. “He’s just...”
“He’s crazy is what he is!”
Something flared in Frankie and she stepped forward.
“These gentlemen happen to be very good friends of mine,” she declared. “And I can assure you that he’s about the furthest thing from crazy that you could ever want! Perhaps you need to work on how you approach your visitors so that you don’t offend them.”
She looked at Ben, whose befuddled expression would have made her giggle under different circumstances. Obviously, nothing in their brief acquaintance would have prepared him for the declaration that they were close friends. Fortunately, the volunteer’s focus wasn’t on him at the moment.
“Let’s go,” Frankie said to Ben and his father, who clung to his son’s hand and studied his feet. “Come on, Rae, we’re going back to the cabins.”
Rae chewed her lip, a sign that she was very puzzled. But she took her mother’s hand and the four of them left together.
Once outside, Ben held his father by the hand and hurried up beside Frankie and murmured, “I suppose I should say thank you, but would you mind telling me what that was all about?”
“I work with seniors,” she said, “and I knew your dad needed help. Besides, I hate labels like that.”
“Like ‘crazy’?”
She nodded.
They walked together for a little while, not saying anything.
Frankie took in the eclectic shops ranging from a hairdresser to a sporting-goods store to a small art gallery. She loved the smell of the air and seeing the tall pine trees.
“My dad used to be a minister,” Ben offered quietly. “He was one of the kindest, wisest men you’d ever want to meet.” Sadness and another expression that Frankie couldn’t quite decipher flickered across his face.
Ben’s father had let go of his hand and walked beside Rae, slightly in front of them. “I’m Al,” Frankie heard him tell Rae. “Who are you?”
Frankie wasn’t sure how Rae would react, both because of the unusual situation and because she had become much more reticent since her dad had left. But she just looked shyly up at Al and shuffled her feet a bit. “I’m Rae,” she told him.
The two of them continued to stroll together in what looked like a compatible silence.
Rae was an intuitive little girl, and she could probably sense that Al didn’t mean any harm, despite what she had seen at the Nature Center.
She also noticed Ben’s stiff shoulders loosen slightly. His handsome face no longer looked as agitated as it had, but still wore deep shadows of the devastating kind of fatigue she knew could overcome long-term caregivers: the kind of fatigue people had when they knew things would only get worse.
“What about your mother?” Frankie asked. “Do you have any brothers or sisters to help out?” She avoided asking him why he hadn’t placed his father in permanent care. She knew that the decision to do so was very complex, colored by each family’s experiences and emotions.
She also wasn’t going to ask if he was married and why his wife wasn’t with him if he was. It was none of her business and she certainly didn’t care. She had noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring, but these days that didn’t mean anything.
“Mom died two years ago,” Ben said. “Ovarian cancer.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s horrible watching someone go through that.”
“I was away,” Ben said tersely, in a tone that clearly indicated he wanted no further questions. He reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead. Frankie found herself wondering why she’d never been attracted to a man with light hair before. Trevor’s hair had been dark.
“Is something the matter?” Ben asked, catching her gaze.
Frankie felt her cheeks flush. “No,” she said shortly.
After another moment, he said quietly. “I’m glad Mom never had to see Dad like this.”
She nodded. She understood there was nothing to say.
“As for your other question, I’m an only child so it’s just Dad and me now.”
“It’s just Rae and me,” Frankie heard herself say, and inwardly cringed a little. She didn’t tell people personal things about herself, especially men. She just didn’t. She rapidly changed the subject. “I’m sure your dad appreciates you, even if he can’t always tell you.”
For a moment weariness and something darker shadowed Ben’s features.
“It’s the least I can do,” he said.
He glanced over at Al and Rae and said, “Is your daughter okay with him, do you think? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”
Throughout her conversation with Ben, Frankie had been able to hear the light, gentle notes of her daughter’s voice, telling Al that she liked Sunday school and that she was allergic to peanuts.
“She’s doing fine,” she said, and was pleasantly surprised herself. Maybe Rae paid more attention than Frankie thought when she talked about her work and how important it was to treat seniors with dignity.
“Anyway,” Ben said, “before Dad wandered off, we did go to the office and I got everything straightened out. I asked Paula—she’s the manager—to open the cabin and, thankfully, there isn’t any damage to the inside. Dad and I are fine to stay there and they’ll get cleanup crews for the outside damage as soon as they can. Our cabin is clean for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Frankie said again.
“It’s already done.” His tone brooked no argument.
Well, Frankie reasoned to herself, she could accept it for Rae’s sake. Even if the inside of the cabin was fine, she knew it wouldn’t feel right to sleep in a cabin that had been vandalized whether for reasons of mischief or true malice.
“You said there’d been vandalism around here,” she said. “Do you think it’s safe for us to stay here?” Her head began to drum out an ache and her nerves to strum an accompaniment as she thought of her parents’ generosity and the promises she had made to Rae. Ben appeared to give his answer careful consideration.
“It’s disturbing,” he said, “and it’s getting very expensive for the town—all the cleaning supplies and fresh paint. But I honestly don’t think anyone is in any danger.”
Frankie nodded, pondering.
“Does anyone have any idea who’s doing it?”
Ben shrugged in frustration. “No one is saying for sure, but I think there are some kids in the town whose parents have a little too much money but not quite enough time to give them.”
Frankie had been so absorbed in their conversation that she was surprised when she spotted the Nature Center again and realized they had walked in a circle.
Ben chuckled a bit ruefully as he noticed the same thing.
“Dad likes to walk,” he said. “It helps calm him. If you don’t mind, we could make another loop, and this time I’ll show off my tour-guide skills.”
Frankie sensed the effort Ben was making to be hospitable and how difficult it must be for him to find balance in his life. A tiny piece of armor fell from her heart.
“Are you okay to walk a bit more?” she asked Rae.
“Sure,” Rae answered cheerily. “Al and I are having a good chat.”
Frankie was happy that Rae was comfortable. It was what she wanted for her daughter. But she couldn’t help wondering how any kind of attachment to their summer neighbors—even a minor one—would impact their time and her own aspirations.
* * *
Later, while Ben scrambled eggs for supper on one of the cabin’s hot plates back in what had been Frankie’s cabin, he reflected on the interesting turn the day had taken. Scrambled eggs were one of Al’s favorites, but it wasn’t really his dad that Ben thought about as he pushed the eggs around the pan and opened the fridge to locate the bread. He was grateful that the Lord had kept his father safe today, and he was surprised at the role Frankie had played.
He thought about how her direct gaze seemed to compel him to do things like give up his cabin. He wished he knew more of Frankie’s story, but sensed that she would be very reluctant to share it.
Someone had hurt her and that little girl of hers, of that much he was sure. Despite Frankie’s tough exterior, her pretense of not wanting to accept favors from anyone, Ben sensed a longing that hung around her like a cloak. He could identify with that. No matter how different the reasons were behind it, he was absolutely sure they both carried the burden of regret.
He had no doubt that she would do anything to protect her daughter, but from the way she had readily stepped forward to defend his dad, it seemed that her protective instincts didn’t stop at Rae.
She possessed a complexity of traits and Ben realized that he found that very appealing. The kinds of women he had always dated were the ones he had grown up with at church. They had all known each other from the time they had been angels and shepherds in the Christmas pageant, through youth groups and confirmation classes, all the way to some of them getting married and having kids. He had been on good enough terms with all of them, but there hadn’t been a single one he could have envisioned a future with. Maybe that was because he had always felt as if he was playing a role—the role of the pastor’s son.
He was thirty and had never married. He had never met a woman who he felt he could be completely himself with. Then he had been called to do missionary work, or at least what he told himself was the call. Now, with all he was coping with and preparing for in regard to his father, it was the last thing on his mind.
Ben put Al’s favorite mug on the table, the one with the picture of a fat Canada goose on it, and poured chocolate milk into it. The rather smug look on the goose’s face always made him chuckle.
“What are you laughing at, son?”
Ah, there it was. Ben stopped short against the tormenting bliss of it. It was one of those rare moments of lucidity—he had heard other caregivers talk of it—when your loved one returned for a moment to being the person you had known.
He swallowed and said, “I was just looking at this.” He pointed to the goose. “Supper’s almost ready. Are you hungry?”
As quickly as it came, Al slipped back behind the gray gauze where no one could reach him. He stamped his foot and waved his arms at his son.
“Nope! Nope!”
Ben managed to get him to sit down and put ketchup on his scrambled eggs the way Al liked it. He bowed his head and gave thanks for their supper.
“Amen,” Al said dutifully. There were some things he always remembered.
Despite his best efforts to push the thought to the back of his mind, Ben’s stomach roiled at the images of the care facility that would be necessary by the end of the summer. He watched his father eat without much appetite himself.
Bits of conversation and laughter drifted in from other cabins. Ben could hear the sound of bikes going down the path and of music playing in the distance. He wondered what Frankie and Rae were having for supper. Probably something more exciting than scrambled eggs, he mused.
But he had to ask himself why he was thinking about her. Clearly she had walls as thick as cement and he had enough to deal with right now. He also suspected that her life was consumed with her own worries and concerns.
A loud squeak of dismay permeated the air. Was that Frankie? Ben half rose from his chair.
“It’s okay! We’ve got this!” Yes, that was her voice, no doubt reassuring Rae about something. There was a clatter and an audible gasp.
Ben couldn’t help himself—he had to look out the door and see what was going on.
He watched from the doorway as Frankie made a valid attempt to light the barbecue grill on their deck. The flames went from nonexistent to a fiery roar.
It would embarrass her if he went right out there, Ben reasoned. Besides, if he was being totally honest with himself, he found himself caught up in just watching her. Finding her as attractive as he did unsettled him, but he couldn’t help it.
That brief moment when he had thought she was a boy had completely disappeared into the land of the absurd. In her blue jean shorts and light plaid blouse, she was indisputably feminine. No longer under the ball cap, her hair was pulled up into a ponytail that swayed and bounced and almost seemed to have a personality of its own as Frankie leaned closer to the flames and then jumped back again. It was a deep auburn color, with the sun kissing it here and there into shades of strawberry blonde.
“Maybe Ben can help us?” Ben heard Rae offer.
“Ben?” Frankie stopped her maneuverings and put her hands on her hips. “No, honey, we’re not going to ask him for any more help.”
She stood with her hands anchored to her hips and her legs slightly apart, and looked around as if hoping the solution would come by carried on the breeze.
When her eyes fell on Ben, she froze. Then her cheeks flushed pink.
“How long have you been there?” she asked.
Chapter Three (#uf6885087-bd1a-52d8-a959-94f34d9eca6a)
“Not long,” Ben said. He knew she didn’t want to be seen as incompetent “I heard a noise and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Ben looked at her, looked at the raging fire and back at her again. His mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a grin.
“I can see that,” he said with mock seriousness.
“Are you laughing at me?” She still looked upset, but he could tell that she was also starting to see the humor in the situation.
“I would never do that,” Ben said in an overly solemn tone, placing his hand on his heart with a dramatic gesture.
Rae giggled heartily, and they both turned to look at her.
Frankie’s face was wreathed in pleased surprise. “I haven’t heard that sound for a while,” she admitted, and then snapped her mouth shut as if to keep herself from revealing more.
“Mom, can he please just start the fire for us?” Rae begged. “I’m totally starving and then we could probably eat in, like, ten minutes.”
“Your daughter’s pretty smart,” Ben said. “She makes a lot of sense for—an eight-year-old?” he guessed.
“I’m ten,” Rae corrected him, fixing him with a flat look that made him chuckle again. It was abundantly clear what she thought of his age-guessing abilities.
“Now what’s funny?” Frankie asked.
“Nothing... It’s just that her expression reminded me very much of you.”
“How can you say that when you don’t even know me,” Frankie retorted.
Oh, but somehow he felt like he did, Ben thought. And he didn’t want to because he didn’t need his life to get more complicated.
He clapped his hands together, briskly, and said, “How about it? I could show you how to manage this temperamental beast now, and next time it’s all you.”
“Well, I guess so,” Frankie agreed reluctantly. “But then you and your dad must join us for supper because you’ve already done enough for us. That is, if you haven’t already eaten.”
“We just started eating,” Ben said. He did a quick check over his shoulder at Al, who was flattening his eggs with his fork, but still in his chair.
“Well...” Frankie hesitated.
“Mom!” demanded Rae.
“Listen to your daughter,” Ben urged.
A few minutes later, he had the flames licking and spitting at a reasonable rate, having been careful to explain to Frankie what he had done.
Ben felt inordinately pleased when Frankie quickly mastered the fire as he had shown her, and cautioned himself not to get too involved.
* * *
Within a few weeks at Silver Lake, Frankie and Rae had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, the kind that Frankie had almost forgotten could exist since everything at home reminded her of what they had lost. Here, in this new setting, she found that looking ahead, rather than back, was starting to feel more natural.
Early in the morning, Frankie took her coffee out onto the deck while Rae was still sleeping and enjoyed the way the day quietly unfolded before more people began to stir. She loved the smell of the pine from the trees and the fresh wind off the lake. Occasionally, a smattering of other early risers passed by, with morning newspapers under their arms, as they headed down to get coffee and sit at the tables in front of the Beachfront Confectionery and bakeshop. They waved and smiled in greeting, and Frankie waved and smiled back.
Previously, the early mornings and the peaceful setting would have been an opportune time to do a morning devotional, but she knew it would take more time for her to make progress in that area.
She was grateful that, slowly but surely, her daughter was taking steps out of the cave she had created for herself. She loved the beach and the Nature Center and going for ice cream. Rae had started to make observations again, with her artist’s eye, commenting on colors and the proximity of shapes and textures—solid rocks at the edge of the ever-changing water; mossy grass swallowing up the bark-rough base of a tree—and Frankie dared to hope that a full-fledged return to her art was imminent.
But Rae was also, in Frankie’s opinion, just a little too fond of wanting to know what Ben and Al were doing. It was a frequent reminder to Frankie that she wasn’t nearly as oblivious to her summer neighbor as she wanted to be—as she needed to be.
She’d have to be blind not to notice how good-looking Ben was with those dark blue eyes that provided such great contrast to the wheat and sunshine of his hair. But she wasn’t going to think about that.
She also wasn’t going to think about his rugged chin or the funny expression he got when he was trying not to laugh.
The screen door of the cabin banged and startled her.
“What time is it?” Rae asked, poking her head out of the door.
“It’s early, Sweet Pea, really early. What are you doing up?”
Frankie looked affectionately at her daughter, wearing her SpongeBob pajamas, her hair a fuzzy cloud around her face.
“I’m excited for today.”
“Today?” Frankie teased, “Hmm, what’s today?”
“Mom!”
Frankie winked at her and reached out an arm to pull her in for a little side hug.
“I know. But you’ll have to be excited for a little while longer. The Nature Center doesn’t even open for a couple more hours. You’ll have to find something to keep you busy until then.”
The day before, when they had visited the Nature Center, there was a sign advertising that anyone interested could go there to learn about how the displays were put together and then how to make displays of their own.
It had warmed Frankie’s heart to see Rae’s enthusiasm. Maybe it was true, she mused, that there was something healing about the lake. Did she dare to hope that it could do the same for her? If she could be satisfied that Rae was back to her ardent, artistic self, would Frankie then feel free to unearth the dreams in her own heart?
Rae bounced up and down a little. “Can I have something for breakfast?”
“If you’re hungry, you know where the cereal and milk are, or there’s toast.”
Her daughter wrinkled her snub nose. “That’s boring.”
“Well, it’s what we’ve got.” Frankie gave her one more squeeze and stood up to stretch and take her coffee cup in for a refill.
“What time do you think Ben and Al will get up?” Rae looked in the direction of their cabin.
The cleaning crews had done their best and the side of the cabin looked much better than it had, but a gray dinginess still lurked as a reminder under the fresh paint. There also continued to be graffiti that showed up randomly on other cabins and buildings. No one knew who the culprit or culprits were, or if they did, they weren’t saying. Frankie wondered if Ben was right about the rich parents and their children who had too much time to get into trouble. She didn’t like the way it hummed like an out-of-tune buzzing underneath the harmony of the summer days.
“Mom!” Rae tugged her hand, letting her know she hadn’t been listening.
Oh yes, Ben and Al...again.
Frankie was going to try this one more time. “Look, Sweet Pea, I think that Ben and his dad probably want some quiet time to enjoy the summer. Remember that Al is sick.”
“He doesn’t look sick.”
“Well, it isn’t the kind of sick that you can always see.” Frankie tried to think of a way to explain. “I told you that Al has Alzheimer’s disease.”
Rae shifted from one foot to the other. “Is that when people forget stuff?”
“Well, that’s mostly what people think of when they hear about Alzheimer’s, and that does happen. It’s kind of like when you have all the pieces of a puzzle and you just can’t think of how to make them fit together. Al might recognize a lot of the things around him but when he tries to put it into a whole picture it doesn’t make sense to him, and that’s why he gets upset sometimes.”
“Because he’s scared?” Rae asked very softly.
“Yes, Sweet Pea, that’s exactly right.”
After a few seconds of silence Rae asked, “Will Nana and Pops get it?”
Frankie thought of her parents. They were probably up early, too, and working in their garden. They were both healthy, but one never knew for sure. Ben had said he’d thought his father would be the last person to suffer from it.
“I don’t think that’s something we need to worry about today,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go get your breakfast and pick out the clothes you’re going to wear.”
Frankie followed Rae inside and decided to forgo another cup of coffee and have a glass of water instead. After she made sure that Rae had what she needed, she went back onto the deck, taking the morning newspaper with the hope of absorbing herself in the crossword puzzle.
Outside she saw Ben across the way on their deck and she considered dashing back inside again before he spotted her. But it was too late. He lifted his coffee mug in a kind of salute. Then he pointed at himself and at her, with his eyebrows raised in a question, asking if he could join her.
Frankie groaned under her breath. Naturally, she thought wryly, first thing in the morning and he had to look like a male model advertising the virtues of the great outdoors. She didn’t even want to think of what she must look like to him with her bedhead hair and her grubby lounge wear. She wished she could say no and go back inside, but she couldn’t think of a way to do it now without it being rude.
* * *
Ben had purposely got up early to get some quiet time in before his day was taken over by his father’s constant needs. When he spotted Frankie on her own deck, he guessed that she, too, must need the quiet. He could only imagine that single-mom duties could easily overtake her day, as well. But the next thing he knew, he was asking to join her, almost as if he had no will of his own. Or was he just using her as a pleasant distraction from the regrets that almost constantly haunted him?
“Ah, the morning crossword puzzle,” Ben said. He spotted the pencil in her hand. “Not brave enough to do it in ink?” he teased her.
She fixed him with what he’d already begun to think of as “the Frankie face” and said, deadpan, “I don’t want to show off.”
Ben made himself at home in the other chair and took a sip of his coffee.
“Is Rae still asleep?”
“No, she’s inside having breakfast and getting ready. I wish she had slept in a bit later,” Frankie confessed. “I signed her up for those classes at the Nature Center and she’s pretty excited about it.”
Ben nodded his acknowledgment. From Frankie’s expression, it was evident that she was happy Rae had something to look forward to.
“Dad used to love crossword puzzles,” he mused. “He was really good at them, too.”
“You said he was a minister?” Frankie asked. “Have you followed in his footsteps?”
“No.” Ben shook his head. Many things rushed through his mind that he could offer as a way of explanation, but he decided to stick with the basic facts. “I’m a general contractor, but I did want to do something worthwhile, so I’ve been on a few mission trips to help with construction and repairs. I also did a bit of work with literacy programs. It was great sharing Jesus with people in a way that felt natural to me.”
Frankie didn’t say anything, and after a moment she looked down at her crossword puzzle. “What’s a five-letter word for angry?”
The deliberate change in conversation didn’t slip by Ben. Tread carefully, he reminded himself, for his own sake as well as hers. He was curious about her faith and sensed that it was a struggle for her, but he had his own struggles. A Christian upbringing didn’t mean faith was always easy. Sometimes, he thought, it actually made it more difficult.
Ben returned his thoughts to the question. “What does it start with?” he asked.
“I”
“Irate?”
Frankie considered it. “Yes, that works.” She wrote the word in carefully.
“So, Rae likes the Nature Center,” Ben said. “How do you plan to keep yourself busy for the next couple of months?”
It was hard, he mused, to make casual conversation when the thought of how appealing she looked floated up like a ginger ale bubble in him.
She tucked her hair behind her ears. In the morning light, the color looked like a sunrise.
“I like to walk and look at things,” Frankie told him. “I enjoy sitting down by the water to watch the waves and think.”
He had the distinct impression that she had much more planned than that, but her expression was closed, not allowing further questions.
“My mom was a schoolteacher,” he shared, sensing it would be better to talk about other things. “What about your parents? Are they both...?”
“Alive, yes,” she said. “And, thankfully, they’re healthy, too. We all live in Regina. It’s about a six-hour drive from here.”
“We’re from Saskatoon,” Ben said. “Is this your first time here at the lake?”
Frankie nodded. “I’d heard good things about it. I figured it sounded like a perfect place for us to...” Ben could almost see her swallowing a word. “For us to have fun,” she finished.
Ben gave a rueful chuckle. “I guess I’m hoping that something here will still be meaningful to Dad. I’m quite certain this will be our last trip here together.” It surprised him that he had said the words out loud, but somehow having them fall on other ears took away a trace of the sting in his throat.
They sat in silence for a moment. Frankie put down her pencil. Through the window screen, they could hear Rae humming to herself.
“She likes it here,” Frankie said with a smile that softened her face.
“You’re a good mom,” Ben said. He felt those words were inadequate, but it was the best he could come up with.
“Thank you. I try.”
Frankie studied her hands, then set her gaze directly on him.
“I do my best. It hasn’t been easy for us on our own.” She lifted her chin and her expression told Ben that she wasn’t providing any more details—not now and maybe not ever.
He wanted to let her know in some way that he understood. Oh, he definitely understood what it meant to step into a void you weren’t at all confident you could fill.
“I feel that way about Dad sometimes,” he admitted. “I don’t know how many times a day I just wish I had someone to compare notes with. I mean, there are support groups and all but...”
Frankie nodded in agreement.
“Will your dad be okay with you over here?”
“He was sound asleep when I left, but I should go check on him soon. Frankie?”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if it would be okay if we walked to the Nature Center with you and Rae. Dad’s usually better about eating his breakfast if he gets a walk first.”
He could see her hesitate slightly. Then she spoke.
“That’s fine. I’m sure Rae would like that.”
* * *
I like this blouse, Frankie told herself as she got dressed. She’d wear it anyway. It had nothing to do with the fact that she always got compliments about how well the color suited her. It had nothing to do with her wanting Ben to know she could look much better than she had this morning.
Rae had been ready to go for half an hour at least and was bouncing around, making her braids swing. Her glasses slid down her nose and she pushed them back up.
“Can I go outside and see if Ben and Al are ready to go?” she asked. As Frankie had anticipated, she was happy to have them along.
“You’re like a jumping bean,” Frankie teased. “Go ahead. I’ll be out soon.”
She glanced at her reflection in the small mirror on one of the walls, fluffed her hair a bit, added some lip gloss and decided she looked okay.
When Ben greeted her, she thought she saw a light of admiration in his eyes. Yet, her stomach sifted in confusion. She couldn’t explain to herself why she wanted him to admire her.
“C’mon! C’mon!” Al demanded.
“Let’s go!” Rae agreed.
Frankie caught Ben’s look and they shared a quiet smile over the similar restlessness of his aging father and her young daughter.
As they walked to the Nature Center, Frankie breathed the fresh pine-filled air, and enjoyed the sights and sounds of people ready to make the most of the day.
I feel happy. The thought entered her mind cautiously, not sure of its welcome. It was more than just being a mother who was happy because her daughter was: it was the beginning of her own personal happiness that came with finally starting to believe that the worst was over.
“Mom, what’s that?” Rae pointed as they neared the Nature Center.
Frankie looked and the thought of being happy skittered away.
“What in the world...?” Ben quickened his pace.
A group of people stood by the entrance of the center and milled about, talking loudly and asking one another questions that could not be answered.
The door was barred shut and the building had been brutalized with wild streaks of red and black. Most chilling of all was the proclamation painted across the side—I HATE EVERYBODY!
Frankie felt Ben grab her hand. She looked quickly at his face and saw that it had been an unthinking gesture.
“It’s getting worse,” he said.
Chapter Four (#uf6885087-bd1a-52d8-a959-94f34d9eca6a)
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.
Chapter Five (#uf6885087-bd1a-52d8-a959-94f34d9eca6a)
One of Ben’s first coherent thoughts was that he couldn’t believe he had forgotten just how cold a northern Saskatchewan lake could be. The icy shock of the water snatched away his breath and his reasoning, so it took a few panicked seconds for him to realize that the water wasn’t deep and that he could simply stand up.
His second coherent thought was for his father, and he got out of the water as quickly as he could, calling out for his dad.
Al had left the dock but, thankfully, he hadn’t gone far. His outburst had subsided as suddenly as it had come on and he looked at Ben, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.
“Baptized,” he said.
“Very funny, Dad,” Ben mumbled, but it was one of those moments that both encouraged and confused him. On the one hand, his dad never would have done something like this if the disease wasn’t advancing; on the other hand, if he could still make the connection between water and baptism...? How was Ben supposed to know the right decision in the matter of putting his father in a home?
He heard the soft, smacking sound of bare feet on sand and turned to see Frankie as she hurried toward them.
“Are you okay?” she gasped out as she neared them.
Ben registered almost automatically how attractive she looked with her cheeks slightly flushed from her jog over and her sunrise hair tumbling around her delicate face. But what really caught his attention was the look of concern in her eyes. Was it possible that she wasn’t as guarded and aloof as she made herself out to be?
“I’m fine,” Ben assured her. “I was just caught off guard and that water is cold, with a capital C!”
“What happened out there?” she asked.

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