Ryan picked up his soda and took a long drink. “Fiancée?”
She nodded. Someone laughed loudly over the music and glasses clinked behind them. Frankie’s stomach growled when their waitress walked passed their table to bring another couple their food.
“Yeah. For a little while. I thought if I focused on making a home and starting a family, I wouldn’t feel so empty. Turns out you need to actually be in love with the person and have them love you back for that to have any meaning.”
His smile was slight, but it soothed Frankie’s nerves. “I’ve heard that.”
In for a penny, she started in her head then cut herself off. “I just got tired. None of it felt real. After we got engaged, it was different. Robert didn’t even want to celebrate alone, you know? He did it in a crowded restaurant because, like for my parents, everything was for show. I was tired of being part of the show. About six months ago, I had this weird…I don’t know, almost vision. I love my mom but I didn’t want to be her. I didn’t want to be known for how good my dinner parties were or how great I looked in Kate Spade. One night Robert told me that my dress didn’t match his tie. He didn’t want to change so I needed to. And I thought, yes. I really do. Because I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want that life. I wanted my own, regardless of where that took me. And even though it was sad, Beth dying was like a wake-up call for me.”
Before Ryan could respond, their waitress brought their food. “Can I get you two anything else?”
Ryan looked to Frankie, who shook her head. “We’re good. Thanks very much.”
“No problem. Enjoy.”
“For the record? Your ex sounds like a good match for my mine. I’m sorry about your aunt, but I’m glad you came to West Lake.”
“Me too,” Frankie said low. They both let the conversation go to enjoy the food. When they’d each eaten half, they switched plates and Frankie found it ridiculously charming.
“You talk to anyone about the boys?”
Frankie took a piece of bread from the basket. “No. Not yet. I’ve made some phone calls and inquired about different options, but I haven’t spoken to anyone specifically about them. My friend Chloe says I’m asking for trouble, but I just don’t want them to go yet. They’re surprisingly cool kids.”
“Your friend is probably right. But you’re right, too. They are cool. But they need more than you can give them, don’t you think?”
She did, but she hated to say that out loud because she didn’t want that to be true. “Maybe. I just need a bit more time. Plus, I’m going to paint a couple more rooms so I figured I might as well get Carter to help me. Can’t do that if they leave.”
Ryan’s smile was indulgent. “True. Put him to work while you can.”
The rest of the meal was easy and light, but in the back of her mind, Frankie knew that Ryan and Chloe were completely justified to worry about the decisions she was making regarding the boys. Finding a stray puppy and letting it stay was one thing, but children? If she had heard the story about someone else, she’d think the person who let them stay was a nut job. But their presence filled Frankie’s heart in a way she hadn’t known she was missing.
“Hey. You’re too serious for a first date,” Ryan said, spearing his last piece of shrimp with his fork.
“Why doesn’t this feel like a first date?”
He winked at her. “Because in between making the date and actually having it, we’ve hung out several times and you’ve tried to seduce me when the boys weren’t looking?”
Frankie laughed. “Right. I knew there was a reason.”
Ryan pulled out his wallet and signaled the waitress. “If you play your cards right, I might let you try again tonight.”
A shiver of anticipation rushed over her skin. “Hmm. And this time, there’ll be no interruptions,” she mused out loud.
Just before the waitress approached, he frowned. “I should have asked. You want dessert?”
Frankie gave him a sly smile. “Sure. We can get it to go.”
His rich laughter tugged at Frankie’s heart strings. She’d come a long way to find herself and looking at Ryan, across the table in the dim light of the restaurant, she wondered how she’d been lucky enough to find so much more.
Chapter 16
The only good thing to come out of Cameron’s “get-together” was meeting Leslie Charles, who worked in Minnesota’s family services department. Other than setting up a lunch date with the woman, who was clearly head-over-sensible-pumps for Cameron, the entire night had been a lesson in humility.
As Frankie took the interstate toward Leslie’s office, she thought of how many men had recognized Ryan at the party. She’d felt foolish but reminded herself that she didn’t watch baseball. Or sports. Or Entertainment Tonight. She should really start watching more TV, she thought idly. They’d decided, for manners’ sake, to keep their relationship quiet at the party. If it could be called a relationship. Their crazy, hot mutual attraction had been kept on the down low.
Which left room for Cameron to take Frankie’s hand when he introduced her to his guests. She’d been staring at Ryan one such time and saw the way his fingers tightened on his beer bottle, and the smile he’d given her had a silky just-you-wait quality. She’d ducked out of Cameron’s reach shortly after in time to see a woman, who’d obviously had drinks pre-party, run her hands up Ryan’s chest. Frankie hadn’t felt the slightest bit guilty when she accidently bumped into the woman. Mostly, the night had been exhausting but it had served its purpose, she decided, pulling up in front of the small, rectangular office buildings that were the very definition of plain.
The inside of Leslie’s office building was no less generic than the outside. Brown carpeting was paired with pale beige walls with odd splotches that looked like someone had coughed on them in very particular spots. The partitions between the desks were flimsy and Frankie could hear the low hum of music, the clicking of a keyboard, and telephone chatter.
“Help you?” The woman at the front desk, who didn’t have a partition, had a streak of white running through her otherwise grey hair. One solid, painted strip. Frankie didn’t mind the look but she wouldn’t have gone for white. Maybe a bright blue or a light pink, but not white. White was going to crop up anyway.
“I’m here to see Leslie. We’re having lunch,” Frankie said, moving her eyes to the woman’s face. The woman, whose nameplate read Betty, picked up her phone and told Leslie that her lunch appointment was there.
When Frankie saw Leslie come around a partition, wide, toothy smile in place, she felt a moment of guilt. Frankie had never been popular but she’d never really cared one way or another. She’d always forged her own way and if someone followed, great. If not, more room for her. But she knew how social hierarchies worked and she knew that Leslie had been the girl who always dreamed of being in with the cool kids. Frankie reminded herself that it had been Leslie’s idea to meet for lunch. Frankie wasn’t using her. Leslie wore a pantsuit, navy, and well fitted to her round body. Her bob-styled hair was fashionable, if a little mussed, and her glasses were chic. From a distance, most would wonder why Leslie Charles would have to work to fit in with anyone.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Frankie. I was worried you’d forget or cancel or something would stop you from coming,” Leslie gushed. She spoke like a Disney character who had taken a long pull on a helium balloon. Frankie smiled, hoping she was only cringing on the inside.
“Of course not. A date is a date,” Frankie replied, lowering her voice to offset Leslie’s. Leslie grabbed a heavy, puffy blue jacket off of a coat rack and held the door for Frankie. They walked along the edge of the parking lot and waited for the light before they crossed over to a strip mall.
“The best thing about eating here is that there’s something for everyone. No one is sewn into wanting what the other person wants just to make them happy, you know?” Leslie bubbled.
Frankie smiled brightly and considered her options. Nerves were playing a game of
tag in her stomach so she opted for the soup and sandwich shop rather than going for tacos, as Leslie did.
They found a place to sit and Frankie slipped off her jacket. “Thanks again for inviting me. It’s so nice to make some friends,” Frankie said, blowing on her soup. There were several other diners around them, taking a break from their day.
“I know what you mean. I spend so much time with people that I forget it’s not the same as having friends,” Leslie said, around a large bite of burrito.
“Your job must be difficult,” Frankie replied, ignoring the poke of guilt. Technically, she hadn’t brought up Leslie’s work so the natural segue wasn’t calculated on her part. So why do I feel guilty?
“Some days. On the days I can’t match kids with a good family, even for a short period of time? Then it’s the worst job ever. But other days, when we get a kid back with his or her own family or find them a place to really thrive, then I feel like, okay, I made a difference. I made something just a little bit better for someone else,” Leslie said. Her dark eyes were large, almost eating up her face.
Frankie definitely understood why that mattered to Leslie. It had been the very thing that brought her to West Lake. “Those days must be amazing. I would love to be able to say the same.”
“Oh, come on. You made a difference to me. Your suggestions for the best home wax saved me both embarrassment and money this weekend,” Leslie said. Frankie laughed but it felt hollow. Was that what she gave back to the world? Good grooming tips?
“Ha. Well, as glad as I am to hear it, some days that kind of thing doesn’t seem like enough. Is it difficult to become a foster parent?” She spooned up her soup while Leslie took a drink of her soda.
“It’s a process. Honestly, sometimes it’s frustrating because there’s so much need in the system but there’s so much paperwork to get those needs met that things fall through the cracks,” Leslie said. Frankie didn’t need to cozy up to a ministry worker to know that. The speaker system crackled as someone’s order number was called.
“What do you do if there’s more than one kid who needs to be placed?” Frankie asked.
“It’s not easy. And it depends on if we’re trying for a temporary or permanent placement. Also depends on the age of the kids. Boy, girl. If you don’t like paperwork, this job isn’t for you,” Leslie said, smiling as she took the last couple bites of her burrito. Before Frankie could ask anything else, Leslie leaned forward and lowered her squeaky voice.
“Okay, I’ll totally get it and respect the girl code, but I need to know if you’ve got a thing for Cameron,” she said, her eyes wide.
“I do not. Honestly. I have…I’m involved,” Frankie said, the word sounding funny in her mouth. Was Ryan her boyfriend? Is that what he’d label himself?
“Oh, I’m so glad. You live so close to Cameron. Give me the scoop…do you see women come out of his place? Anyone in particular?” Frankie swallowed her soda wrong and choked a bit before recovering less than gracefully.
“I don’t really live close enough to spy,” Frankie said, still coughing a bit. Though she’d discovered that if she looked really hard, she could see into Ryan’s living room window from one of the spare bedrooms that she’d just finished painting. She was going to use it as an office and had considered putting the desk in front of the window until she’d noticed.
“Spy, schmy. Come on. Does he have a girl?” Leslie asked. Lunch with Leslie felt like a day trip back to high school.
“I don’t think so. You should ask him out,” Frankie suggested. She didn’t know how to steer the conversation back. Asking “what would happen to three brothers if I placed them in the system with you?” seemed a little too abrupt. But it was what she needed to know. Leslie’s cheeks turned a powerful shade of red. She scrunched her napkin and piled it on her empty tray. Frankie did the same.
“I don’t think so.”
“I have an article in Cosmo this month on how to get a yes when asking a man out,” Frankie said, only half-teasing. Leslie laughed a bit too loud. Taking their trays to the trash, they headed back toward Leslie’s office..
“He’s working on re-election. What about helping him with his campaign? I know he’s meeting with the city council about the homeless problem. That ties in well to your work. It would be a good opportunity to spend time with him,” Frankie said, excited by the idea. Leslie smiled, her eyes thoughtful.
“Slower approach but definitely one I could handle. Not that I haven’t given a few Cosmo suggestions a try already. But they’re not really for me,” Leslie said. Though Frankie really did need to find out what would happen to the boys without alerting anyone that she had them, she was realizing that having a friend wouldn’t hurt either.
“What do you do about homeless kids?” Frankie asked. They stepped forward when the light changed. The air was thick with cold, like they were pushing through a blanket of ice as they walked. Definitely headed for snow.
“Well, they generally stay homeless, if you want the sad truth. Most of them wouldn’t know to come in. Lots of the street kids are runaways from families they’ve already been placed in. Are you thinking about foster care, Frankie? You seem very curious. I could get you some information,” Leslie said. Frankie shoved her hands in her pockets, wishing she’d brought her gloves.
“Information on how to get kids into homes?” Frankie asked.
“No, on being a foster parent. I think you’d be great,” Leslie shared. They stood by Frankie’s car and she wondered if that’s what she’d wanted to hear all along.
“It’s not much money, but it’s very rewarding,” Leslie continued. Frankie locked eyes with her.
“You pay people to have kids stay with them?” Frankie asked. She really needed to start living outside of women’s magazines online and the paint store in real life. Leslie laughed, and unlike her voice, it was almost musical.
“Of course. As much as I would love to say people do it out of the goodness of their hearts, that just doesn’t happen,” Leslie told her, opening her purse and rooting around. Frankie had to smile. Oh, it happened. Just take a push-over, a little bit of guilt, and three boys who snagged a piece of your heart and it happened fast. Leslie passed her a card.
“So,” Frankie said, taking the card and choosing her words carefully, “Would I get to pick the kids?”
Leslie looked amused by the question. “Kids? Most people start with one and see how it goes. And no, not really. We don’t have a catalogue or anything for people to choose from.”
Frankie’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Right. Of course not. Sorry. But what if, say, I don’t know, I’m just throwing this out there, but what if some of those homeless kids didn’t have a home, could I offer them one and get paid as a foster parent?”
Leslie checked her watch then looked back at Frankie, her forehead scrunched in confusion. “We place kids who are already in the system with families. I have to get back in but call me and we can talk more about it if you’re interested,” Leslie said. Her posture seemed more formal now and Frankie worried she’d offended her.
“Okay, I will. Do you want to catch a movie sometime?” Frankie asked. Leslie’s stance softened and she nodded her head.
“Yes. For sure. And then I’ll have more time to chat with you about this. Next week?”
“Sounds good,” Frankie agreed.
As she backed out of the parking lot, ideas and thoughts swirled in her head. Checking the clock on her dashboard, she wondered if she had time to do a little shopping before picking up Miles. Travis had gone to the library again and Carter went to Ryan’s. The thought of him made her smile. Her life was a whirlwind of uncertainty: three stray boys, a fixer-upper, a relationship with a man who believed he sucked at relationships and garnered too much attention in a crowd that knew anything about baseball but she couldn’t remember having ever been happier.
“Watch out for falling shoes,” she told herself, turning on the radio and humming along to the melody. She had
some ideas for sprucing up the living room, and West Lake wasn’t big enough to have any of the good stores. Her trip into town with Leslie had gone well and had the added bonus of being near her favorite home store. She set a timer on her phone, knowing full well that she could lose herself in the aisles.
Chapter 17
Miles belted himself into the backseat. “Can we go to the family fun night, Frankie?” Frankie waited her turn to back out, surprised by the heavy parking lot traffic. She glanced at Miles, who had been feeling a lot better and showing more of his true-non-sick self. Apparently, healthy Miles loved to talk, jump, and run. Often. Sometimes all together.
“I don’t know about that, bud. I’m trying to figure out a more permanent situation for you guys and that could raise a lot of questions,” Frankie said. She pulled onto the road and turned left toward home. Miles was peeking in one of the many bags that she’d come out of the home store with. He looked up and caught her eye in the rear view mirror.
“Can’t we just say we’re a family for now?”
Frankie’s heart skipped several beats then thudded hard against her chest. She wanted that, she realized. She hadn’t even known them a month ago. How had she grown attached to these three so quickly? Carter was a moody teen, Travis was so quiet that Frankie wondered if he was hiding something, and Miles, now that he wasn’t coughing up his innards, never stopped talking. But they made her life feel full. Meaningful. This is what she’d been searching for—this feeling of belonging, having a purpose.
After her aunt’s death, Frankie couldn’t stop thinking about what she, herself, was contributing to the world. Frankie wondered what she’d be leaving behind and it had scared her when the answer she came up with was: nothing.
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