Instant Family

by Donna Gartshore

  “Dad’s usually not too subtle about letting me know when he’s hungry,” Ben admitted. “Still, I should probably get something started because you never know when that will happen. Would you like to join us? Please?” He looked pointedly in the direction of his absorbed father, and Frankie understood.

  “What can I bring over?” she asked. She admitted to herself that after the events of the day, she wasn’t exactly in the mood for a meal with just her and Rae.

  “Anything is fine, whatever you have. If you want to bring things to make a salad, that would be great.”

  Frankie returned briefly to her own cabin to rustle up salad ingredients and managed to find some lettuce, a few carrots and a lone tomato. It wasn’t bad, but if Ben had things in his refrigerator they could combine ingredients and make it even better.

  * * *

  As Ben made hamburger patties to put on the grill, his mind went back over the day. He tried to convince himself not to get too invested in the decision about Danny, because ultimately he had no say. But there was definitely something about the boy he could relate to. Besides that, his thoughts kept returning to Frankie. He couldn’t make head nor tail of her sometimes. She was the most contradictory and stubborn woman he had ever met...and the most intriguing.

  She appeared out of her cabin then, juggling an assortment of items. He saw her face, a study in concentration as she made her way down the rickety steps, and it made him smile.

  “I didn’t have as much in the fridge as I thought,” she said apologetically as she deposited her contribution on the table. “I could run to the store.”

  “You don’t have to,” Ben said. “Thanks for bringing this. I can probably find a few things to add.”

  “That’s what I was hoping,” Frankie said.

  “Besides, if we do need something from the store, it gives me something to do if Dad gets restless and wants to go for a walk.”

  “Those two have been at it a long time,” Frankie observed.

  “Yes,” Ben agreed. “Dad is having a pretty good day. I like to think that it’s God’s way of giving me a bit of a reprieve. I mean, not having to deal with the whole Danny issue and with Dad having a bad day at the same time.”

  When the words were out of his mouth, Ben expected Frankie to retort something along the lines that if God really wanted to give him a reprieve, He wouldn’t have given him any of it to deal with.

  To his surprise, though, she was quiet, thoughtful.

  He was even more surprised when she blurted out, “I think I prayed today.”

  “You’re not sure?” Then he realized he didn’t want her to think that he doubted her or that he was making light of her statement, so he added quickly, “That’s good—that’s great!”

  Frankie chewed her lip and pondered. “I asked for something,” she said. “It was just very quick and spur-of-the-moment, but it felt like—I don’t know—it felt like I was talking to someone, and not just thinking the thought. Do you know what I mean? At least it felt like I wanted to talk to someone.”

  “That’s really good,” Ben said again.

  Lord, thank You for reminding me that You’re still at work in people’s lives.

  “What do you think it means?” Frankie asked him.

  “I think only you can decide what it means to you,” Ben said, choosing his words carefully, praying silently as he did so. “But it could mean that you’re ready to consider a relationship with God again.”

  Frankie narrowed her eyes.

  “I know He’s there,” she said. “I just didn’t think He’d done anything to help us, after, well...” Her voice trailed off.

  “And what do you think now?” Ben asked.

  She studied his face as if the answer was somehow written there.

  “I think,” she said, “that I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

  A disgruntled sound came from Al. “Hurry!” he demanded, pointing at the hamburger patties.

  “And it hits,” Ben murmured. He transferred the patties onto a plate and carried them to the grill.

  “Come on, Dad,” he said. “You can supervise.”

  “Okay,” Al said agreeably.

  “Rae and I will make the salad,” Frankie said. “Rae, please clean up the table and come help me.”

  Ben saw Rae’s face crinkle in mild rebellion, but she obeyed her mother, put the puzzle back in its box and gathered up the towels.

  On his way outside, Al stopped and pointed his finger at Frankie.

  “Wife!”

  Ben saw Frankie stiffen and saw the darting-eyed look that Rae gave her.

  “Wife!” Al said again, and chortled loudly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ben hurried his father outside, giving Frankie an apologetic look as he did so. Frankie believed that Al couldn’t help what came blurting out of him, but honestly, being called Ben’s wife twice in one day was a bit much.

  Rae ran water over the lettuce in the sink.

  “Do we have to eat here?” she whispered.

  “Not if you really don’t want to,” Frankie said. “But I thought you and Al were having fun?”

  Rae shrugged. “Can you please get me some paper towel?”

  Frankie tore off a few pieces, handed them to her and waited.

  Rae dabbed the towel at the lettuce leaves, soaking up their moisture. Keeping her eyes on what she was doing, she said, “Why did Danny’s grandma call you Ben’s wife?”

  Frankie gently eased the paper towel out of her daughter’s hands and put her hands on Rae’s shoulders to guide her gaze.

  When she was sure she had Rae focused on her she said, “Do you know what an assumption is?”

  “Is that like a mistake?”

  “In some cases, yes,” Frankie explained. “When Danny’s grandma assumed that I was Ben’s wife, that was a mistake. And I know that you understand about Al, that he doesn’t always know what he’s saying.”

  “It’s a mistake because you’re Daddy’s wife, right?” Rae asked with a watchful look.

  “Not anymore, Sweet Pea,” Frankie said, fighting to keep her tone even. “When people get divorced, they’re not husband and wife anymore. We’ve talked about this.”

  Her daughter folded her arms and Frankie recognized her own stubborn look in the set of Rae’s jaw.

  “I don’t want you to marry Ben,” she declared emphatically.

  “I have no intentions of marrying Ben,” Frankie said. “Or anyone else.”

  Her wish to comfort and reassure Rae grappled with a feeling of resentment that was small but definitely there, enough so that guilt was nibbling at her heels again.

  She didn’t want to resent her own child, and she really didn’t have any intentions of getting married again. But she couldn’t help feeling that it might be nice if Rae hadn’t so adamantly put her foot down about it.

  Still, Rae was her daughter and her main concern and focus in life. She had to be patient with her and realize that she had as many complexities as the next person, regardless of age: she could be mature and perceptive when it came to things like her art and Al and even Danny, whom she scarcely knew. And if she regressed to childishness when she felt threatened by potential upheaval in her world, Frankie couldn’t blame her.

  “We can eat back at our place if you really want to,” Frankie offered. “I’ll tell Ben and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “Are you going to tell him I said not to marry him?” Rae asked anxiously.

  Frankie felt her mouth quirk, mimicking the expression she could picture on Ben’s face, so she relinquished a bit to the humor in the situation.

  “I think it would scare Ben just a little if I even mentioned marriage,” she said. “I can say we had a change of plans.”

  Rae wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “But wouldn’t that
be impolite?” she finally asked.

  “Well, I guess it might be.”

  “Remember when we were going to have company?” Rae continued. “And you worked really hard cooking for them, and at the last minute they said they had other plans and you said that—”

  “Yes,” Frankie cut her off, not eager to relive one of her less fine moments. Honestly, did her daughter have to remember everything?

  “Now I’m confused,” she said to Rae. “What do you want to do?”

  “I guess we can stay,” Rae conceded. “But don’t sit beside Ben and don’t do anything disgusting.”

  “Disgusting?”

  “Like kiss him or something.” Rae wrinkled her face up like she’d swallowed a worm.

  “Once again,” Frankie said solemnly, “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

  Outside, Rae made a beeline for Al and sat in the chair beside him. Al showed her his seashell collection, which he had brought outside in a little plastic bag, and Rae murmured and exclaimed over them as if seeing them for the first time.

  “That lettuce must have really needed washing,” Ben said quietly to Frankie as she handed him the salad.

  Her eyebrows arched a wary question.

  He lowered his voice even more. “I promise not to do anything disgusting.”

  “You could hear?” Frankie was glad that the evening dusk hid her blush.

  “Pretty much.” Ben jerked his head toward the open kitchen window. “I know this will amaze you given how deluxe these cabins are, but they’re not exactly soundproof.”

  Frankie was embarrassed; then she shrugged and answered his grin with one of her own.

  Ben gave a long whistle. “Boy, oh boy,” he said. “I sure feel sorry for them.”

  “For who? What are you talking about?”

  “Those people that didn’t show up for your dinner that night.”

  Ben’s grin widened, and Frankie thought he looked more pleased with himself than he had any right to. He started to whistle again and sauntered off to check on the burgers.

  Frankie watched him flip burgers with finesse and thought that he looked better than was good for her.

  * * *

  In that moment, Ben felt he’d never been more grateful that God had blessed him with a sense of humor. More than once it had helped alleviate awkward or even potentially painful situations. This one, he thought, had the ingredients to be both.

  He’d never been married, let alone remarried, but he knew enough to understand that Rae’s reactions were pretty much par for the course, so he wasn’t taking it personally. It wasn’t that he even had time to think about something like that, not with the continued care of his father. But when he’d gone to wake Al up from his nap earlier, he had noticed something that had somehow escaped him as he watched the disease devour his father’s mind—the growing physical frailty of his father—and he couldn’t help for a moment appreciating the thought of having someone he could share his worries and regrets with. And since Frankie already understood so much, it was understandable that she would come to mind.

  The sky had darkened by the time they were finished with supper, and they watched a glorious sunset splash its crimson and coral colors.

  “Who could look at that and think there wasn’t a creator?” Ben asked. Then he was concerned that Frankie might think he was pushing his faith at her, and he darted a quick look her way.

  But she studied the sky with a pensive expression as if she, too, was considering the implications of the cosmic work of art.

  “Mom?” Rae’s small voice piped into the silence. Ben watched Frankie stir and blink, a slow catlike blink, as if her thoughts had carried her somewhere far away.

  “Yes, Rae?”

  “Can Al and I walk down the road and back? We’ll stay where you can see us.”

  “I think you’d better ask Ben,” Frankie suggested.

  Rae glanced over at him and then at her feet.

  “Sure, you and Dad can go for a walk,” Ben said, not making her ask him.

  He and Frankie watched the little girl take Al’s hand and carefully guide him around a stump near the path.

  “Sorry about that,” Frankie said. “She’s feeling a bit threatened by our relation...” She let her voice trail off and Ben perceived that she didn’t want to use a word with as much import as relationship.

  “That’s okay,” he said.

  Generally Ben considered himself a good-natured person, but even God’s handiwork wasn’t enough to keep his current melancholy thoughts at bay. For some reason tonight, the idea of so many unspoken words was bringing him down. He wished he could be sure that he had let his father know how much he had learned from him about God and people and life and that he was sorry for his mistakes. He wished that just one more time he could hear his dad say that everything was going to be all right.

  He wished he could tell Frankie how beautiful she looked against the backdrop of the setting sun.

  Instead, he chose to keep the conversation on their common ground, a place where they always met in understanding.

  “I’m glad those two are okay,” he said, indicating Al and Rae, who were making their way slowly along the path. “I mean, I’m glad Rae is okay with him. I still feel badly about what happened earlier.”

  Frankie turned her attention away from the sky.

  “Not your fault,” she said.

  “Yes—well, it’s hard not to feel responsible.”

  Silence brewed between them again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence—Ben couldn’t quite put his finger on what the feeling was—but the air itself seemed to pulsate with unspoken words.

  “So,” Ben said, causing her to start a little bit—not so much a jump as to show a physical awareness of his voice. “What did you end up telling Rae about Danny?”

  “The truth,” Frankie said. She studied her thumbnail as if it compelled her. “Like you suggested,” she added.

  “And she was okay with it?”

  “She was surprisingly mature about it. I guess I shouldn’t say surprisingly. Rae does have her eyes open to many things.”

  The regret in her voice told Ben that she wished that wasn’t always the case.

  “This holiday hasn’t been what you’ve wanted it to be, has it?” he asked with compassion.

  “No,” Frankie admitted, “it hasn’t. Maybe things will start to get better now. I mean, at least we have an answer about the vandalism. Anyway, it hasn’t been all bad. The lake is beautiful and Rae loves her art classes.”

  “What have you found here to make you happy?”

  “Me?” Frankie said. The question seemed to fluster her. “I—I guess I’m not much of one to sit around on the beach. I do like the lake, but I can’t make myself stay there for hours at a time and it’s not that much fun for me to browse in shops where I don’t have a hope of buying anything.”

  “So, what have you found that you enjoy here?” Ben reiterated, hoping for one brief, foolish moment that she would say you.

  She shrugged and he thought he saw a fleeting shadow of sadness pass over her face. It was quickly replaced by a determined smile.

  “I guess that I’m just learning to be grateful day by day. I’ve already come a lot further than I ever thought I would.”

  “I think that’s wonderful,” Ben said. “It isn’t easy to move past things. Trust me, I know. There are so many things that I wish I could have the chance to do over.”

  He could see the questions on Frankie’s readable face.

  “I can’t imagine you being anything but the perfect son,” she said.

  He studied his hands, noting calluses from all the work he’d done in his life. After a pause, he answered quietly, “I guess you need to work on your imagination then.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he could tel
l by the stillness in the air between them that she was waiting for him to tell her more.

  Something surged in his heart, revealing that he wanted to.

  “I mentioned my mom had ovarian cancer and passed away?”

  Frankie nodded and softly put her hand over his, her eyes radiating sympathy.

  “Well,” Ben continued, tasting regret as he said the words. “What I didn’t tell you was that I didn’t even come home. I didn’t help Dad with anything and I wasn’t there when she died.”

  He waited for Frankie’s look of shock or disapproval, for her to recoil from the truth of the selfish person he was. But her hand remained where it was, and she waited for him to continue.

  “I was doing missionary work,” he said. “Being the good guy...” He heard the sarcastic tang in his own voice. “I think what I was really doing, though, was avoiding Dad and what I thought everyone expected of me, all the pressure I thought came with being his son. So, I’m not the perfect son.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Far from it.”

  “But you did truly accomplish valuable things through your missionary work,” Frankie reminded him. “Whatever your motives were to start with. Anyone can see that you have genuine faith and that you love your father very much. I...” Her voice grew shy and hesitant. “I think you’re a good man, Ben.”

  He closed his eyes, basking in the balm of the words and the warmth of her hand on his. When he opened his eyes, Frankie was looking at him as if she was contemplating something. Where he had expected judgment and rejection, she was showing acceptance and even affection. His gaze fell to her slightly parted lips and he felt himself slowly drawn toward them. Their lips touched gently. She didn’t pull away.

  His cell phone rang, shattering the fragile moment between them.

  Frankie jumped back, looking disconcerted, like she had woken up from a puzzling dream. She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers.

  Ben grabbed his phone and looked at it.

  “It’s Danny’s grandmother,” he said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  If Frankie could find anything to be glad about in that moment, it was that Ben had stepped away to take the call and she was left alone to gather herself.