by Rebecca Shea
"You could have just broken up with her ya' know. You didn't have to make her believe you were cheating on her, or that Whitney's baby was yours." He takes a deep breath, eyeing me carefully, knowing he's gone too far. He's wanted to call me on my shit for ten years and right now, I'm weak enough to let him .
I twist the throttle on the motorcycle, finding something to fidget with. "She would have come back here. She wasn't for a second going to just let me break up with her…that's not how Frankie and I were ."
"You need to talk to her ."
"No can do." I turn back to the rusty foot peg .
He shakes his head and strides over to the fridge we keep in the old shop, pulling out a cold bottle of water. "I'm just saying you may never see her again, Cole. Don't let this opportunity slip past you. It's rare in life that we get an opportunity to right our wrongs." He shoots me a disgusted look and leaves the garage. A look I wholeheartedly deserve .
I kick a wrench that's lying on the ground and feel the anger I've buried for so long bubble to the surface. "Let it go," I tell myself. "Let her go ."
* * *
H ours later and feeling no better than I did when Carter left, I slam the large rolling garage door down. It makes a thunderous sound when it meets the concrete drive. I engage the lock and head back to my Jeep, starting it and revving the engine. I engage the clutch and push the gas a little too hard, causing the Jeep to lurch forward. Just as I near the street, I catch something in the corner of my eye. I slam on the brakes and the tires squeal .
What the hell !
"Would you look out!" I yell as Maggie Winthrop rolls by on her skateboard .
Maggie Winthrop is Frankie's niece, Faith's daughter, and a dead ringer for Frankie at nine years old. She narrows her blue eyes at me and hops off her skateboard before turning back to glare at me .
"Why don't you slow down!" she hollers back and adjusts the baseball cap that's turned backward on her head .
"You're a pain in the ass, Mags!" I holler at her before easing the Jeep onto the road .
"Back at you, Ryan!" She rolls her eyes at me and then hops back on her skateboard .
When Faith Winthrop moved back to town after her divorce, I was certain I'd hear from her. I've been waiting for the riot act—only it's never come. She was always Frankie's protector…but she's never spoken a word to me in the three years she's been back in Crescent Ridge. I catch her nasty glares and dirty looks in passing, but she's never once confronted me about what happened between Frankie and me .
Maggie, on the other hand, is never short on words. I often see her at her Grandma's house across the street, and she's always offering me the latest insult or jab—reminding me so fondly of Frankie from the past. Maggie is complex, much like Frankie was. She's a Tomboy, a ballet dancer, and a swimmer. She's talented and multi-dimensional, just like her aunt Frankie, and I find all of her qualities, including her smartass mouth, endearing—though I'd never admit that to her .
My stomach lurches as I roll into our cul-de-sac and park my Jeep in the driveway. I take a chance and peer through my rearview mirror at the house behind me, hoping to catch another glance of Frankie. When I don’t see her, I hop down from the Jeep and walk toward the front porch of my house. A moment later, I hear the screen door across the street squeal before closing with a bang .
My feet feel like bricks as they come to an abrupt stop and I turn around. My lungs release the air I was holding and my stomach settles when I see the nurse I hired to care for Martha. She offers me a short wave as she walks down the driveway to her car parked on the street. I jog down to meet her, anxious for an update on Martha and anything she'll willingly tell me about Frankie .
I approach and she offers me a kind smile. "Mr. Ryan," she says, her voice soft and comforting. "Frances made it home late last night ."
I nod and stand with my hands on my hips, one eye carefully trained on the house behind her in case Frankie appears .
"Martha is up and Melinda is preparing her breakfast,” she continues. “She was so happy to see her daughter. Melinda will walk Faith and Frances through our afternoon care routine ."
"Good," I tell her as she juggles her car keys in her hand .
"I'll be back again this evening and will make sure to update you immediately if anything changes with Ms. Callaway ."
"That sounds great. Thank you again for your help." I smile at her as she opens her car door and tosses her purse on the passenger seat .
"Oh," Judy says, turning back to me and wringing her hands together nervously. "Ms. Callaway…I mean Frances," she corrects herself, "asked for billing to be transferred to her — "
I shake my head quickly, cutting her off. "Nope. Our agreement remains intact. I'll continue picking up the costs for her care until I determine that it should be transferred.” I quickly add, “No need to argue with Frankie about it, just don't transfer it ."
Judy sighs loudly but doesn't argue with me. "Yes, sir," she says quietly and slides into the driver’s seat of her Nissan Sentra .
I wave to her as she drives off, and I cross back to my side of the street where I belong. Far away from Frankie .
There are very few things I can do to ever rectify what I did to Frankie. Even though she's moved on and is some big-time lawyer in Los Angeles, this is something I can do to help clear my guilty conscience .
Four
I sit on the edge of the bed and hold Mama's hand. She’s trying to smile at me through the tears glistening in her eyes. Only one side of her mouth is turned up; the other won't move, but I'm able to see through the tears at the sheer happiness in her bright blue eyes .
"Frankie," she mumbles, her speech slurred. It's hard to see my mom like this, but it's even harder to see how much she's aged in the last five years since I've seen her. I give her soft hand a gentle squeeze .
"I'm here. I'll be here to help Judy and Melinda as long as they need me." I offer her a reassuring smile. "And Faith and the kids are home now, too. We're all here ."
She visibly relaxes and nods, closing her eyes and laying her head back against her pillow. I rub her hand softly as it sits in mine, but I swallow hard as I feel how frail her fingers have become .
There's a soft knock on the door and Melinda, the day nurse, peeks inside. "I've got breakfast if she's ready." Mom opens her eyes at the sound of Melinda's voice .
"Yes, please come in." I raise the back of Mom's bed slowly so that she sits more upright, and Melinda sets a tray of food on the side table .
"Morning, Martha," Melinda greets Mom with a friendly smile. I'm so thankful to see the relationship between my mom and Melinda is so comfortable. "We've got oatmeal and blueberries for breakfast…and of course, your coffee." She laughs softly. Turning to me, she tells me how Mom demands coffee before any other food or beverage. That sounds exactly like my mom, and it brings me comfort that the stroke hasn’t changed who she is .
For the next twenty minutes, Melinda feeds her and talks me through what to do and how to do it. The key is small bites and smashing the blueberries gently before feeding her. Mom struggles but manages to eat without choking, which is the goal .
"When Faith gets here, I'll show you how to help her clean up ."
"I can do it," Mom mumbles and rolls her eyes. While difficult to understand, she still does pretty well .
"Martha, we know you can." Melinda smiles at her, but shoots me an unnerving look. "But your left side is still very weak and your balance is off. One of us has to be in the bathroom with you to help you wash up and also wash your hair ."
Mom rolls her eyes again, and I can't help but giggle under my breath. She's still feisty and fighting for her independence .
"Where is everyone?" I hear Faith holler before the front porch door slams. Some things never change .
"I'll go get her," Melinda says kindly, patting me on the shoulder. She takes the empty food tray with her, disappearing down the hallway .
"There you are," Faith huffs as she steps inside Mom's room, dropping her purse to the floor. "Oh, Mama!" Faith says, covering her mouth with both hands. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here." Mom shakes her head slowly and Faith leans over her, pulling her into a firm hug. "I'm so sorry, Mama," she whispers .
"Franny," Faith says quietly, letting go of Mom and walking over to me. "God, I've missed you." She hugs me tightly and rubs my back. Tears prick the back of my eyes as we embrace. Aside from Cole, Faith was my best friend growing up and still is even though she is older than me. We survived our fair share of sisterly fights and came out stronger than ever .
"Well, now that I have all three of you in one place, I hope we can go over care plans," Melinda says, cutting off my reunion with Faith as she comes back to the room carrying a large binder .
I pat my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt and Faith smiles at me .
"Judy and I have been doing this for years. This binder here," Melinda taps the top of the thick white binder with her pointer finger, "is your new bible. Study it. Learn it." She looks over the top of her glasses that are perched on the end of her nose. "I guarantee you, ninety-nine percent of what you'll need to know is in this binder ."
For the next hour, Melinda schools us in Mom's care. She even has daily, weekly, and monthly schedules in the binder with the days and times of the various physical and occupational therapists that will be coming to help Mom. Faith looks at me from where she sits at the end of Mom's bed. Her wide eyes have a panicked look, and I can tell she's completely overwhelmed .
"Now let's get her cleaned up!" Melinda slams the binder shut, and Faith gets Mom's walker from the corner. We all follow her slowly but closely as Mom struggles to walk. Her left leg has extremely limited movement, so she kind of hops on her right leg and balances herself with her walker, which scares the hell out of me .
With four of us squeezed into a bathroom made to fit one, we help Mom get cleaned up, much to her frustration. Once she’s settled back into bed to rest for the afternoon, Melinda shoos Faith and I out of the house. I assume she's had enough of me asking a million questions and Faith gasping and getting emotional every two minutes .
"I've got that neighbor girl, Jenny, watching the kids, do you want to go to the diner and get some coffee?" Faith asks, grabbing her purse. "I'm sure everyone there wants an update on Mom, anyway. We can kill two birds with one stone." She shrugs .
"Do they still make that apple pie?" I ask as my mouth begins to water, remembering the warm apples and perfectly sugared crust I used to eat as a young girl. Mom used to bring a slice home every now and then when her tips were good, and Faith and I would devour it .
"Damn right they do, but I'm not sharing a piece with you." She smirks. "You're the hot shot attorney who can afford to buy me a piece of pie now." She laughs and nudges me with her shoulder .
"I suppose you want me to drive, too?" I raise an eyebrow at her .
"You know it. Show me that fancy car of yours." She smiles at me. God, I've missed my sister .
We slide into my Mercedes and head into town—and by town, I mean the city block that holds every business in Crescent Ridge .
"How's Ted?" Faith asks as she fidgets with the seat belt. I almost laugh that she's buckling herself in. There's probably only five other people out and about in town right now, the chances of us being hit by lightning are probably greater than us getting into a car accident .
"He's good. Patient with me," I sigh .
"Are you still nervous about committing ?"
I wince at that question. "It's not committing that makes me nervous, it's just — "
She puts up her hand to stop me. "You've had a shitty past, Franny. No need to explain. You've still managed to come out on top, though, so don't beat yourself up, and don't let Ted pressure you into something you're not ready for." She eyes me cautiously .
"I couldn't have done it without you, Faith." My voice breaks as I look at my sister .
She reaches out and squeezes my arm as we turn down Main Street. "Hey, turn here!" Faith yells suddenly, and I hit the brakes, cranking the steering wheel hard to the right. "You haven't seen this yet," she says, leaning forward. "Now turn left ."
I ease the car down First Street, a street that used to be nothing but abandoned buildings from businesses that lost their way. This street looks like it's being revitalized, a handful of buildings having been updated .
"I never thought I'd see the day," I mumble under my breath as I drive slowly down the street. Many of the exposed brick buildings have been modernized and updated .
"I know," she says with the same awe. "There's even a new little coffee shop with a bakery down there." She points straight ahead out the window. "Gus was pissed as all hell when they opened, and Mom was worried they'd take all the breakfast business from the café, but it hasn't affected the café at all ."
"Interesting. I was sure this place would be a ghost town by now," I remark as we pass the coffee shop .
"I was certain, too, but that's not the case." She blows a puff of air from her mouth. "See that building on the end?" She nods her head toward the large red brick building with construction activity. "That's going to be a bar and grill. Only open late afternoons and weekends, catering more to the dinner and bar crowd. I heard a rumor that whoever was opening it was careful not to interfere with Gus and the diner ."
I stare ahead in disbelief as I watch the little town that had all but died now rise from the ashes before me .
As we get settled into a booth, two cups of piping hot coffee appear, along with a bear hug from Gus. His arms are tight and his embrace so mighty he lifts me from my seat .
"How's your mom?" he asks, squeezing the air right out of my lungs .
Gus has to be approaching seventy, and he’s owned this diner since I was a little girl. He hired Mama when Dad left, and he's been a constant source of support for her. When she had no money, he hired her. When we had no food, he fed us. When she needed extra hours, he let Faith and I do our homework in the back corner booth while Mom picked up an extra shift .
"She's good, Gus. Getting better. It's so good to see you," I manage as I catch my breath .
He finally releases me, dropping me back in the booth. Shaking a finger at me, he scolds me, "Franny, we've missed you. Your mama was a wreck when you left." He shakes his head and tsks .
"Gus," Faith warns him with a stern look .
"Someone needs to tell her," he fires back grumpily .
"It's okay." I lay a hand on the table in front of Faith to shush her. "I know it was hard on Mama when I left, Gus. But sometimes we need to leave and not look back," I say quietly, feeling guilty for leaving a few people that I cared about behind without an explanation .
I look up at burly old Gus and shoot him a sympathetic smile while he just watches me, looking for an apology that I can't give him. Instead, I try to lighten the mood .
"Got any of that famous apple pie of yours?" I ask with a smile. "You know it was always my favorite ."
He sighs and nods before walking away without another word .
"Is everyone going to be like this?" I ask Faith cautiously, leaning across the table .
She blows steam off her coffee and shrugs. "Don't know, but I sure as shit wouldn't worry about it. The only people that matter are Mom and
me. Don't worry about anyone else. This town and Cole Ryan were nothing but a dead end for you. Look what you've made of yourself. Be proud." She smiles at me and sets her coffee cup down .
The sound of Cole's name falling off Faith's tongue brings up emotions I'm not ready to deal with. I swallow hard and take a sip of the black coffee, avoiding having to respond .
"How are Maggie and Matthew?" I ask, feeling guilty. It's hard to see my niece and nephew without seeing my past .
"They're so good. Thank you for always making sure they're taken care of." I wave a hand, dismissing Faith's comment .
"I love them so much. Anything I can do to help you — "
"Franny," Faith says softly. "It's okay to love them and still hurt for your own loss ."
I nod quickly and choke back my emotions. This is the first time Faith and I have really talked about my niece and nephew and the pain seeing them causes me. I pinch my eyes closed, pushing back the sudden rush of tears. Our conversation is cut short when the little bell above the diner door chimes just as someone says loudly, "Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in !"
Denim legs stop at the end of our booth, but I keep my eyes fixed across the table on Faith .
"What's up, Carter?" Faith asks with an annoyed tone, and I do my best to hide the smirk on my face as I hide it behind my coffee cup .
He's the same playful character he was ten years ago when I last saw him. "Aren't you going to say hi, Franny? Or are you too good for us now that you're some hot shot lawyer in L.A.?" He drags out the L.A. part .
My back stiffens and I sit up taller, squaring my shoulders and turning to face Carter. "Nice to see you, Carter. I see some things haven't changed ."
Carter always hated that Cole and I were inseparable as kids. He was always second fiddle to me and it drove him nuts. He would find any reason to pick on me, mostly for me being a straight A student, a real nerd in his eyes. Cole finally knocked the shit out of him in eighth grade, and he resigned himself to the fact that Cole would always choose me over him and he finally backed off. However, with how things ended with me and Cole, I'm sure he's been waiting years to pick back up where he left off in eighth grade .