Instant Family

by Donna Gartshore

  “Expose me to what, Mom?”

  Rae’s voice behind Frankie startled her. She turned and saw her daughter wearing her periwinkle one-piece bathing suit. Her eyes looked soft and a bit unfocused, the way they always did when she didn’t wear her glasses.

  “What are you and Ben talking about?”

  Chapter Six

  “Nothing, Rae,” Frankie reassured her daughter. “We weren’t talking about anything important at all. Ben’s just leaving, and you and I are going to the beach.”

  She wondered if she was being honest enough with Rae, but her natural inclination was—and always had been—to protect her.

  At every stage, Rae had been small for her age and that, combined with her endearing disheveled awkwardness, could make her seem younger than she was. But, as her mother, Frankie also knew that there was a part of her daughter that was thoughtful and sharply observant, and it occurred to her that Rae probably had her own thoughts and questions about the vandalism and it might be a good idea to talk about it.

  Rae, with her troubled face, was still waiting for an answer.

  “We were just talking about some of the things that have been going on in town,” Frankie confessed, deciding on the straightforward approach. “But I don’t want you to ruin your time here worrying about it. It will all work out.”

  She leaned down and gently adjusted one of Rae’s lopsided bathing suit straps. When she stood up again, she found that she couldn’t quite meet Ben’s eyes.

  “Have fun at the beach, ladies,” he said lightly. “Rae, if you have time later and your mom says that it’s okay, I think Dad has a new puzzle you could help him with.”

  “Maybe I can,” Rae said softly, “if Mom says.”

  “Yes, that would be fine,” Frankie said.

  “How did things go at the library?” Ben asked “Did you have fun, Rae?”

  She nodded. After a small hesitation, she said with a giggle, “My mom said that you went for a swim.”

  “Oh, did she now?”

  Frankie tried to stifle her own smile, but she gave in to it when Ben’s eyes twinkled at her above Rae’s head.

  When Rae decided she’d better make one more trip to the bathroom before they left for the beach, Ben said quickly in a lowered tone, “I hope Rae isn’t too nervous about what’s been going on. I’d hate it if it ruined your summer. I didn’t mean her to overhear anything that would make her uncomfortable.”

  “It’s okay,” Frankie said. “It’s probably better if I talk about it openly with her. She’s getting older. I have to remember that. Maybe we’ll see you and Al down at the beach later.”

  Ben left then, just before Rae came out.

  “Did Ben go?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Frankie said. “But he might bring his dad down to the beach later if he’ll come.”

  Rae shifted a bit and then blurted out, “If you think something really bad is going to happen, Mom, I wish you’d just tell me.”

  Frankie suddenly felt the urge to pray more strongly than she had in a long time. Even if she wasn’t sure God would answer, she thought it might just feel good to voice all of her confusion and concerns.

  “Oh, Rae, I wouldn’t keep you here if I thought that.”

  “Okay,” Rae said. She studied her feet and then added in a voice so faint that Frankie had to strain to hear it, “I don’t like it when you and Ben talk about things that you won’t tell me about.”

  * * *

  Back in his cabin, Ben was thinking about his conversation with Frankie when he heard a crash come from the room his Dad slept in and a muffled exclamation.

  “Are you okay, Dad? What happened?” Ben called. He left the coffee he’d been making and took three quick strides to the bedroom.

  Inside the room, Al looked both befuddled and defensive, pointing at a toppled dresser. It didn’t take much detective work to figure out that he had opened all of the drawers, starting at the bottom, until it was unbalanced and had tipped over.

  Ben’s stomach spontaneously clenched in frustration, but he reminded himself of what he owed his father and, with a prayer and some effort, brought his impatience under control.

  When they had moved to this cabin, Ben had tried to help Al unpack his suitcase and put his items into the dresser drawers. But his father had balked so intensely that he had quickly decided that it wasn’t worth the tussle and had left Al to rummage through his suitcase each day for what he wanted to wear. And that led to another matter.

  Despite the hot weather, Al insisted on dressing every day in his favourite pair of full-length pants, a long-sleeved shirt and shoes and socks. Again, though, Ben had soon learned that it wasn’t worth the battle. The regulars who had been visiting Silver Lake for years knew Al and Ben and were sympathetic. As for the weekend crowd, often made up of carousing teenagers and office workers who were more than ready for some lazy lounging, there wasn’t much he could do about their questioning and critical stares, so he chose to ignore them.

  Ben sighed. It really would be good to have someone to talk to about these kinds of things, and once again he thought of Frankie and, for a brief moment, he allowed himself to consider the impossible: how good it would feel to talk to someone, not only about his father’s disease but about everything. Oh, he knew that God knew, but somehow that wasn’t the same—and he wondered if that was what the Lord was trying to tell him.

  Ben righted the dresser and helped put his dad’s scattered belongings back into his suitcase, with Al watching intently and pointing vigorously to make sure things went back the way he wanted. No sooner was that done than Al began pacing and insisted, “Let’s go!”

  There were moments like this when summer’s end loomed with immediacy and yet could also seem too far away as Ben pondered the enormity of the days ahead of him, watching his father crumble piece by piece into a strange, unmanageable creature.

  Ben suggested to his dad that they walk down to the beach and stop by the old playground that had kept Ben entertained for many hours when he was a boy. He thought his dad might like that. They could also stop in the Beachfront Confectionery and get a couple of the sausage rolls his father enjoyed. If they happened to run into Frankie and Rae, so be it.

  He knelt in front of his father, tugged his socks straight and tied his shoes. Al grumbled and swatted at the top of Ben’s head.

  “Please don’t do that, Dad,” Ben said.

  As they walked past the shops and the gas station to the path that led down to the beach, Ben caught bits of conversation about the latest attack of vandalism and speculation on what was going to happen next. He glanced sideways at his father, who ambled beside him, sweat already showing on his long-sleeved shirt, with his eyes straight ahead. In the past, Al would have been one of the first people to encourage others not to give in to fear and dismay, but now he scarcely seemed aware of what was going on around him.

  Maybe, Ben thought, it was time for him to step up and take on that role—rally the troops, as it were. Would that help him finally feel worthy to fill his father’s shoes?

  He doubted it.

  When they got to the beach, Ben tried to elicit in his father some memory connected to the playground.

  “Look, Dad,” he said, giving one of the swings a gentle push. “How many hours do you think we spent here while Mom went shopping, eh?”

  It didn’t surprise him, although it still saddened him, when his dad didn’t respond. Ben kept talking despite the lack of reply. He thought that no one knew for sure just how much people with the disease understood. Besides, sometimes it felt good simply to say things out loud.

  “How many talks do you think we had here about God and about where my life was going? I’m glad you never gave up on me, Dad. I don’t know if I ever told you that...”

  But Al’s attention was riveted in another direction.

 
; “That girl,” he said, pointing.

  Ben’s eyes followed the direction of where his Dad’s finger pointed and he spotted Rae, who had obviously been in the lake for a dip and was now diligently pushing sand into some kind of construction. Almost instinctively, his eyes sought out Frankie. He smiled when he spotted her, wearing an oversize straw sun hat and busily scribbling in a notebook of some kind.

  Al bolted in their direction, and Ben stumbled and stubbed his toe on a tree branch as he hurried to catch up.

  Rae looked up first as they approached and raised a hand to shade her eyes as she squinted into the sun.

  “Careful of my mermaid,” she cautioned. Ben looked and could indeed see the scales Rae was sculpting onto a long, curving tail.

  “Hey, that’s really good,” he said, and the little girl shrugged shyly.

  His father crouched down beside Rae, and soon the two of them were busily engaged with the sand creation. Ben lowered himself onto the sand, a little distance from Frankie. He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked out at the water, not sure he should interrupt her writing. He couldn’t deny that he was curious about what she was doing.

  * * *

  Frankie set aside her notebook and also looked out at the water, feigning indifference. Despite her efforts not to be, she was all too aware of Ben’s physical presence and it distracted her from the thoughts she had been trying to form. That was precisely the kind of thing she had to avoid if she wanted to be a strong, independent woman forging ahead on her own terms.

  But if life was fair, she grumbled to herself, he wouldn’t be getting perfectly bronzed by the sun while she burrowed under some straw monstrosity in an attempt to avoid burning, peeling and sprouting another enthusiastic crop of freckles.

  It was good to see Rae and Al busy together, and Ben probably appreciated it, too. Not that she had any real inkling of his feelings, but it was only natural that a caregiver was grateful for times to relax and reflect. She had noticed that, in a short space of time, Al was communicating less and frustration stepped up to devour him more quickly. She wondered if Ben noticed it, too. Sometimes, she knew, those closest to the person were the last to see the truth.

  It was Ben who finally broke the silence, but he still didn’t look in her direction.

  “Writing a bestseller?”

  Oh, so he had seen her journal, which embarrassed her slightly. After the way her ex-husband had reacted, she wasn’t about to tell him about her plans to get a nursing degree, never mind that Ben seemed to be the complete opposite of Trevor.

  She, too, kept her eyes on the water and answered, “Just making a list of things I don’t want to forget.” It was true enough even if she did make it sound like a grocery list.

  Silence fell between them again.

  Frankie saw that Rae had given Al a handful of pebbles and was showing him how to make a crown for the sand mermaid.

  She smiled with quiet pride at the things her daughter paid attention to and looked over at Ben to see if he also noticed that Rae was copying his way of giving Al things to keep him occupied.

  Ben caught her look and showed with a nod and a smile that he had seen and understood.

  “What else are people saying about what’s going on in town?” Frankie asked, not wanting the conversation’s focus to go back to her journal. “Does anyone else think it’s kids, like you do?”

  “I think so,” Ben said. “I mean, it seems like the most logical explanation.”

  Frankie thought about the stark declaration on the side of the Nature Center and shuddered slightly, as she tried to comprehend what kind of kid would write something like that.

  “Are you cold?” Ben asked.

  “No...just thinking.”

  “Did you tell Rae more about what we were talking about? She strikes me as a pretty observant kid.”

  “She is,” Frankie said. “Yes, I thought it was better to be frank with her. Not that there’s much to tell her so far since no one really knows much yet. But I decided it’s best that she hears from me and not overhears it from other people talking.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Ben agreed.

  Frankie swatted away a mosquito that had been circling her ankle with single-minded purposefulness.

  “I think she’s okay,” she continued. “I mean, she was pretty rattled by what happened this morning at the Nature Center, like we all were. Now, though, she’s adjusted to the idea of going to the library and actually seems happy about it. I’m trying to not dwell on it and I think she’s following my lead.”

  Ben nodded. “You set a good example for her. It’s clear that she looks up to you.”

  “What choice does she have?” Frankie tried to make a joke out of it because compliments didn’t sit easy with her. Her parents were loving, but very practical people who believed in facing life head-on without making a lot of fuss about it, so they never gave praise to see people who, in their minds, were just doing what was expected of them. And Trevor... Well, if she believed him—and she still struggled not to—she couldn’t do anything right.

  “What will they do if the vandal is a minor?” Frankie asked. “I mean, what will happen to him—or her?”

  “I’m not exactly sure,” Ben admitted. “I guess it would depend on the circumstances, whether there are previous offenses or not. For some reason, I’m thinking there won’t be. It could be placement in a juvenile offender’s program or maybe some kind of community service.”

  “I think that would be better,” Frankie said.

  “Which? The community service?”

  “Yes, because at least that way there is some benefit from it and the person might actually learn something.”

  “I agree,” Ben said. “What kind of community service were you thinking of?”

  Frankie cringed away from a horsefly and Ben shooed it off.

  When the slight disturbance was over she answered, “We have something at the care home where I work that seems to bring really good results. It’s a youth-senior pairing.”

  “Sounds interesting,” Ben said. “What’s that all about?”

  “Young people who might not have the greatest family life or have been in trouble of some kind get paired with seniors who don’t get many visitors and are lonely, or who need help doing things. Some unexpected and really good friendships have grown out of it, and everyone feels more worthwhile and not just lost in the shuffle.”

  “Interesting,” Ben said again, rubbing his chin.

  “Mom?” Rae was at her side then, with Al a step behind her. “Did you see our mermaid?”

  “I did and she’s absolutely beautiful. Come here, you!” Frankie pulled Rae in for a hug, enjoying the coolness of her damp body and the smell of her sunscreen and the warm, grainy sand.

  Rae flopped like a rag doll for a few seconds, leaning on her mother, and giggled when Frankie gasped at the damp suit touching her skin on her bare legs. Then she straightened up and acknowledged Ben with a quick look.

  “Your dad is talking about church,” she informed him. “He wants to go.”

  “Ah, okay. Church is one of the things he remembers the best,” Ben explained. “He feels at home and he’ll always sit peacefully there. So,” he admitted, “it’s good for both of us.”

  “Church,” Al echoed. “Yep, let’s go to that place.”

  “In a few days,” Ben promised. “It’s not Sunday today, Dad.”

  “Where do you go?” Rae asked, “I haven’t seen a church here.”

  “There’s a Bible camp just a few miles from here,” Ben said, “and they have services. It’s really a great little place, although sometimes birds fly in and we get the occasional squirrel, too. Usually afterward, they serve hamburgers and hot dogs and have ice cream.”

  “Squirrels at church?” Rae said, her eyes wide. “Mom, can we go?”
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br />   “You’d be more than welcome,” Ben encouraged.

  Frankie didn’t know what to say. The last thing she wanted to do was go to church. But Rae had always enjoyed Sunday school, and, although she hadn’t said anything all this time, she must be missing it, Frankie realized.

  As if sensing her mom’s thoughts, Rae pushed a bit harder. “Mom, I like church and we haven’t gone in such a long time.”

  Surely, she could do this one small thing for her daughter, despite her own feelings. What was an hour or so on a Sunday in the whole scheme of things? But was she really just doing it for Rae, or was there something more that tugged at her?

  Chapter Seven

  Ben had not expected the jolt he got when Frankie agreed to attend church with him. It had taken him a long time, a very long time, to feel as if his inside relationship with God finally matched what he showed on the outside. To have someone at church with him, he thought, would be such a personal, revealing thing. He suspected that Frankie’s faith was shaky at best, and he was curious about whether the service would touch her in any way. He was fully aware that she was attending for Rae’s sake; it seemed there was hardly anything she wouldn’t do for that little girl. His heart stuttered when he thought of Frankie’s unselfishness in that regard.

  Now that it was Sunday morning, though, he was preoccupied by his attempts to get some food into his father so that he wouldn’t complain of hunger halfway through the service, and also with trying to find them both clean shirts to wear.

  As well, his mind was occupied with thoughts of the continued vandalism. It frustrated him that people had many opinions to express but could shed no new light on the matter.

  Besides all of that, curiosity about Frankie and what her story was played a soft, persistent melody in the back of his mind.

  Be with her and Rae, Lord. Help them through whatever challenges they are facing. Because he had no doubt they were struggling.

  “How’s breakfast, Dad?” He had made his dad’s toast slightly burnt, the way Al liked it, and lightly spread with peanut butter and raspberry jelly.