Frankie waited.
“I guess you could just say I was a typical PK—preacher’s kid,” Ben said. “I felt I had to prove I was my own person, and in trying to do that, I made some not-so-great choices.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”
Something in his eyes belied the casual tone of his voice. Frankie sensed there was a lot more to the story, but she didn’t want to push.
Besides, what good would it do to know or to get involved?
Ahead of them, Rae stopped and bent over to pick up a feather, then scampered after Al to show it to him. He took it and studied it, then tickled her under the chin with it.
“Kids are always drawn to Dad,” Ben remarked as if, Frankie thought, he was happy to change the subject.
“Rae really likes him,” she agreed.
“I love it out here,” Ben said, after they had walked for a little while longer in silence. “I can really feel God’s presence here.” He glanced over at Frankie. “But I don’t think you’re a big fan of the God talk, are you?”
“I can handle a bit of it,” Frankie said.
“Well, thank you for saying so,” Ben said. His face relaxed into a grin. “Looks like we’ve found ourselves on a walk with Dad again,” he said. “I wonder how many miles we could log just following him around.”
“I don’t mind,” Frankie said. “It’s beautiful here and that’s the great thing about being on vacation—we don’t have to be locked into a schedule.”
“True enough. Good attitude!”
“Why don’t you show us where you stayed when you were here,” she suggested. She added, teasingly, “And tell us about all those broken hearts.”
“Hey!” Ben protested laughingly. “It was you who started that rumor, not me.”
Then his eyes darkened again in that compelling way they did and he said, “But I bet you’ve broken a few hearts in your lifetime.”
For a moment Frankie savored the long-forgotten sensation that a compliment like that could give someone, but then the irony of it hit her with full force.
What would Ben think if he knew the truth about her? He would probably feel sorry for her and she didn’t think she could stand that.
Still, she mused, he had shared something about himself, however sparingly, and she supposed she could do the same. She heard the frosty tone of warning in her own voice that indicated he was not to push for details as she said shortly, “I’m divorced. I’m hardly the heartbreaking type.”
She watched an array of expressions pass over Ben’s face. Curiosity, yes, but more than that, Frankie realized, there was compassion and understanding.
“That must have been tough,” he said simply, softly. To her surprise, he draped his arm around her and drew her against him. Frankie automatically stiffened, but even as she did so, she knew there was nothing untoward in his gesture. It was meant to comfort and bolster her, and the realization of how much she needed that hit her like a sudden punch and made her feel off-kilter. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean into him, feeling the strong arm that sheltered her and breathing in the clean, masculine smell of him.
“Mom?” Rae called out, running back toward them. “Ben?”
Frankie gasped and quickly wriggled out from under Ben’s arm. For a few seconds, Rae had slipped her mind. She couldn’t afford to be careless like that. It was dangerous for her to let her emotions take over, and she resolved even more firmly that it wouldn’t happen again.
What had Rae seen? What would she think and how would she explain it to her?
But it was soon apparent that Rae had more pressing matters on her mind.
“What is it, Rae?” Frankie asked, hoping her emotional turmoil wasn’t in her voice.
Rae looked at her, glanced anxiously at Ben, looked at her feet and, with a blush spreading from her neck upward, told her secret to the ground.
“Pardon me, Rae?” Ben asked gently. “We couldn’t quite hear you.”
“I said,” Rae repeated, wrought with misery, “Al stomped on my feather and said a bad word.”
Chapter Nine
It felt like a huge, invisible hand had reached in, yanked Ben out of the hazy, speculative dream world he’d been residing in and dumped him unceremoniously back into reality.
One minute he had been enjoying the warm coconut and balsam scent of Frankie’s hair, and the next he was being reminded, in no uncertain terms, that this wasn’t the right time for distractions like that, and, he thought, nearly buckling over for a moment with acute regret, there probably wouldn’t be a right time. Ever.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked Rae in a rather urgent tone.
She shook her head emphatically and looked startled at the question.
He looked over to check on his father, who stood where Rae had left him. Al smiled and waved at his son.
Ben sighed and waved back as he reminded himself that Dad couldn’t help it, and if he had been aware that he had upset Rae, he would have felt very badly and immediately tried to make amends.
Then again, if his dad was himself, nothing like that would have happened in the first place. Not for the first time, Ben thought that Alzheimer’s was an utterly cruel disease, turning loved ones into unrecognizable people.
He thought they would have the summer together, but if things had regressed to the point that his father would lash out at an innocent little girl like that...
Please Lord, I’m not ready. Help me make the right decision for Dad. Help me to do what’s best, and, more than anything, help me to know what that is.
He heard Frankie explaining to Rae that the disease sometimes made people say and do things that were entirely out of character, things they would never want to say or do if they weren’t sick.
“Al couldn’t help it any more than you can help being sick when you have the flu.”
Rae nodded, a wise expression on her face. “You mean the words just rushed right out of his stomach, don’t you?”
Ben watched Frankie smile, and his heart filled with gratitude for her understanding of the disease and for her compassion. Although she had revealed little, he sensed that she had been through a lot. Yet, she always pulled herself together and was the mother that Rae needed her to be. He felt his admiration for her growing.
So, who then, he found himself wondering, would be there to be strong for Frankie when she needed someone? He prayed that the Father who sees and knows all hearts would reach her in some way.
* * *
“Let’s go!” Al had joined them again and was clearly anxious to continue the walk.
Is Rae okay? Ben silently mouthed to Frankie, his eyebrows raised in a question.
She nodded.
“Thank you,” Ben said, as they started walking again.
“For what?”
He could tell that Frankie was trying to distance herself again.
“For understanding my dad and for explaining it to Rae.” Ben hesitated. “We all need extra support at times and if you ever want to talk about—”
“I don’t,” Frankie cut him off. “I understand your dad because of my job, and I will always help Rae understand and get through things. I’m her mom.”
Ben saw her make small fists at her side and then release them. He guessed it was a way she had of releasing tension.
“Has Al had many outbursts?” she asked in a clinical way. It was clear to Ben that she wanted the conversation far away from her feelings and needs.
“Some,” he admitted. “So far, they’ve mostly been around me. He hasn’t done that around other people, especially not around kids. He really likes Rae, at least as far as I can tell.”
A picture came to his mind of the tremulous little girl clinging to her mom’s hand.
“I hope she knows that,” Ben said, “and that this doesn’t set her back.”
&nbs
p; “Rae will be fine,” Frankie said briskly. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“I’ve no doubt you will.”
They continued to walk.
“Anyway,” Ben continued after a moment or two of silence, “it makes me realize that I’m probably only kidding myself if I think I can keep him out of a home much longer.”
At this declaration, he saw something in Frankie visibly soften again. Her shoulders relaxed, and finally she looked directly at him with sympathy in her eyes.
Frankie said, “I’ve had people tell me that the day they had to put their loved one into a care facility was the hardest day of their lives, even more so than when the person passed away.”
Ben nodded. “I miss the person Dad used to be so much it’s like I’ve already been through a grieving process of sorts.”
It was guilt, too, he added silently. He couldn’t speak for anyone else, but for him it was the terrible burden of guilt that came with trying to be the kind of son he should have been when his parents could have appreciated it.
“Yes, I’ve heard people say similar things,” Frankie said.
“How do people do it, then?” Ben asked. “How do they finally decide that, despite how horrible it feels, it’s the only choice left?”
“I think that’s your answer right there,” Frankie said. “It becomes obvious when it’s the only choice left. The person becomes a danger to themselves or others, or you just know in your very bones that you don’t have a drop left to give without harming yourself. Sometimes...” She hesitated, and a look of pain and distaste crossed her face.
“What?”
“Well, sometimes caregivers don’t pay enough attention to their own warning signs and so much builds up that they can become abusive.”
“I’d never let that happen,” Ben said grimly. He’d made some unwise choices at times, but he knew he could trust himself in that.
“I doubt anyone ever thinks that they would.”
“You’ve given me some things to think about,” he said.
“Aren’t you...”
Ben could see that Frankie was puzzling over how to phrase her question, but he didn’t know why.
“Aren’t you—I mean, haven’t you ever prayed about it?”
Ah, so that was it, Ben thought. She wasn’t sure if she should ask him if he prayed because that might mean she was admitting God was there.
Out loud he said simply, “All the time.”
Slightly ahead of them, Rae and Al walked some distance from each other. They kept their eyes focused on the ground, occasionally exchanging furtive glances. No doubt, Rae was trying to ease herself back into feeling completely comfortable with Al. Who knew what his father thought, though Ben doubted that he had any recollection of the outburst that had shocked Rae.
Ben looked over at Frankie to point the two of them out to her, and he saw that she was already looking in their direction with a thoughtful face.
It occurred to him how often they noticed the same things at the same time, and a thought prodded that if things were different, it might be fun to explore that. But there was no sense dwelling on that. He made himself lighten his tone and said, “So, you wanted to see all the places that molded me into the marvellous man I am today?”
Frankie rolled her eyes, but not without a small smile.
“I guess I have nothing better to do,” she retorted.
“Ouch!” Ben cringed jokingly and made a gesture like he was stabbing himself in the heart. “Now there’s a ringing endorsement.”
* * *
As they toured the cabins that all had names like Wolf’s Teeth and Bear Claw, Frankie tried to picture the boy that Ben had been when he was here. She thought about the preacher’s-kid comment he had made and she wondered if he had naturally fit in here or had had to struggle to do so. And what would he have been willing to do to erase those barriers? But those idle speculations were far from being the only thing on her mind.
She had smoothed over Rae’s reaction to Al because she hadn’t wanted to make the situation more difficult than it already was. In reality, though, she was concerned about the effect Al’s outburst would have on Rae, especially since she was just coming out of her shell again. She also wondered what impact it would have on Ben and felt like he had some very tough decisions ahead of him.
“Are you bored already?” Ben asked her. “Should I amp up the witty anecdotes?”
He was teasing, but Frankie could see that he was honestly checking up on her, too. She wondered how long her thoughts had been adrift.
She noticed that Al had made himself at home on one of the upper bunks.
“I bet everyone fought over those,” Frankie said, pointing.
“I didn’t. I’m scared of heights.”
From the overly solemn look on Ben’s face, she knew he was joking.
“Well, you’ve been in the church and you saw the dining hall when we picked up burgers,” Ben said. “Is there anything else you can think of that you’d like to see?”
“No, I can’t think of anything, but thanks. We should probably get back. It was interesting to get a glimpse into your past.”
“Maybe someday I’ll get a glimpse into yours.”
On some level, Frankie understood that Ben had only meant to respond in kind, but since she had told him she was divorced, the words took on an importance that made her uneasy. She could almost sense Ben’s inward cringe. Apparently, the words hadn’t sounded good to him either once they had left his mouth.
“I really didn’t mean that the way it came out,” he said.
“I understand,” Frankie said.
“I just meant maybe you could tell me if you’d ever been a Girl Scout and gone camping yourself—that kind of thing.”
“I know.”
If she knew, Frankie asked herself, why was she shutting him out again? Because, she answered her questioning voice, there’s no point in letting him in. Even so, she relented and said, “I was never a Girl Scout, but I went to day camp once.”
“Day camp?” Ben made an incredulous face. “How can you even make the comparison?”
“You do the same activities like hikes and crafts, and go swimming.”
Ben snorted. “It’s not camping if you sleep at home.”
“Well, it’s like camping.”
“Hardly.”
“Well, we had the same kinds of activities.”
Finally, they reached Ben’s car.
“Mom?” Rae asked, looking from one to the other. “Are you and Ben having an argument?”
The anxious question stopped Frankie short. How many times had her daughter heard her bicker with her ex-husband about what they spent money on or how late he had come home? She had tried to shelter Rae from as much of it as she could, but their house wasn’t large and she always worried that Rae heard more than she wanted her to.
Now, it seemed that her worries were correct.
“No, Sweet Pea,” Frankie answered. “We’re just having a difference of opinion. How did you like the camp?” she asked, changing the subject. “Do you think you’d ever like to go to camp?”
Rae’s furrowed brow lifted a bit. “I think so. I liked going to church at camp.”
Rae had always liked church and Frankie knew that it probably wasn’t fair to keep her away from it because of her own struggles. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind. She had enjoyed the service, more than she’d expected to, but that didn’t mean she was ready to jump back in with both feet.
Ben got Al settled into his seat and buckled in. Al swatted at his hands again, but without much energy, and before they were back on the highway again, he was fast asleep and snoring vigorously.
Rae put her hands over her mouth and giggled. She had accepted that what had come out briefly wasn’t really Al, and Frankie breathed a
sigh of relief.
“You okay back there?” Ben asked. “Comfy? Is the air-conditioning good?”
“It’s good, thanks,” Frankie said.
“Great, just let me know if you need anything.”
In another mile, Rae also drifted off, her head bouncing lightly off and on Frankie’s shoulder.
“Evidently, we’re not the world’s most interesting company,” Ben remarked.
“Apparently not.”
“If we’d known, you could have sat up front with me.”
For whatever reason, the words made Frankie blush a little, and she was glad that she was in the back seat.
“It’s not a long ride,” she said.
“Confession time?” Ben asked.
“What?” Frankie said warily.
“It’s going to sound selfish, but I wish Dad wouldn’t sleep in the car, because it means he might not sleep later, and I count on those times to—well just to be?”
From her vantage point in the back seat, Frankie could see only the back of Ben’s head and his profile, but somehow, for a split second, she felt she could suddenly see how alone and scared he felt sometimes. She answered as softly as if she was reassuring Rae about something.
“No, not selfish—human.”
She thought she could see a line of tension leave his shoulders.
“So,” he said, after a minute or two of silence, “you enjoyed yourself today?”
It was funny, Frankie thought, that he didn’t like things focused on him any more than she liked to be the focus. And he didn’t like to admit when he needed help... They had more in common than she would have guessed at first.
“I did,” she agreed. “The camp has the kind of peaceful feel to it that I had hoped for Silver Lake. Silver Lake is lovely, it’s just that...”
Ben nodded. She could see the edge of his mouth set in a firm line.
“It was like that,” he said. “It should be like that, but all of the vandalism has scarred that.”
“Time for my own confession?” Frankie asked.
“Go for it.”
“I’m mostly focused on giving Rae as good a holiday as I possibly can, because we don’t get these opportunities very often. But, the truth is, I’m so angry and upset that we can’t just enjoy ourselves without that looming over our heads. It doesn’t seem fair. Just once I’d like to be able to completely relax and trust that things are going to be okay, but every time I think I can...”
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