“You want a cup of tea?” There was nothing to indicate Frankie was intruding, absolutely nothing. Her eyes burned. She didn’t know if it would be harder to walk away or try to stay a part of their lives, even a small one.
“I’m good, actually. I should go. Thank you for letting me visit. We had such a nice time and I...” she paused to take a deep breath and smooth out her voice, “I really appreciate you letting me see them.”
Sue plugged in the kettle and reached her short arms up for a cup. She set it down, leaning against the counter, waiting until Frankie’s eyes met her own warm ones.
“Frankie, I want to tell you I’m sorry for how things worked out. I know how hard it can be and I’m happy you took us up on the offer to stay part of their lives,” she said. Frankie put the cards down and stepped closer.
“Thank you. That means a lot. What really matters is that they’re happy, and they are. “
Frankie wanted to ask how many times she’d been through this, taken in kids, opened her heart, and had them leave, taking a piece of her with them.
“It’s worth it, you know. I mean the fostering, even if they can’t stay,” Sue said, like she’d read Frankie’s mind. “It’s hard to let them go, but you feel good about it too, if you know they’re leaving for something better. Not to say we’re better. You did right by them, Frankie. Better than right. They love you and where they live and where they go isn’t going to change that.”
“I don’t know how you can do it over and over,” Frankie admitted, looking down at her polka-dot socks.
“Because what you get from it overrides the hurt. The difference you can make is bigger than the hole that’s left when they go. It doesn’t get easier, I won’t say that. But you start to realize your place in their journey. It’s okay if it’s temporary because it matters. To them and to you.”
Frankie’s chest felt tight and she had the urge to crawl back into bed.
“They made a big difference to me. I came here thinking I had no real purpose. They made me feel like I did.” Frankie hadn’t meant for the words to make Sue wrap her in a huge hug.
“Aw, sweetheart. We all have a purpose. You matter to those boys and you’re going to keep mattering. None of us are going anywhere.” Frankie was too tired to fight how good it felt to have Sue’s arms wrap around her, comfort her. She hugged her back and tried to paste a smile on her face.
“Thank you,” she sniffled.
Nelson came back into the room, the boys trailing behind him, as the women pulled apart. Frankie blinked rapidly, hoping she didn’t look like she was crying.
“I told them to be back in an hour for dinner and the tree. We’re going to take our tree out and decorate. You want to stay and help, Frankie?” Nelson’s smile was so genuine, it warmed the room. It made her smile in return. For real.
“You put it up before Thanksgiving? I thought my mom was festive. But I can’t, thank you, though. I should get home.” She would only push her way so far into the lives of others. She recognized boundaries, even if she didn’t want them. She squatted down and gave Miles a hug, looked into those brown eyes that melted her and smiled.
“You be good okay?” He nodded, his hands resting on her shoulders.
“Will I see you before Christmas?” They both looked up at Sue and Nelson.
“Of course you will, sugar. We’ll work something out,” Sue said without hesitation. Frankie stood and made Carter and Travis both hug her. They scrunched their faces predictably, but their arms tightened noticeably when she stepped into each one of them.
Sue ushered Frankie down the hall and as Frankie started to bundle up, she spoke in a quiet voice, “You ever think of respite care?”
Frankie looked up from buttoning her jacket. “The weekend stuff? For other families? Not really. Not yet.”
“Well, Nelson and I were wondering how you’d feel about doing respite for the boys. We like to do something with just us and Jamie once a month. Make sure he’s getting the one-on-one time he needs. Would you be willing to think about it?”
Frankie felt real happiness crowd her chest, not the fake kind she’d plastered on her face for the last several days. “Yes. Absolutely. I think that would be fantastic.” It was a start. It was a step forward and a connection. It was one more chance to move forward.
They said their goodbyes and as Frankie let her car warm up, she watched the boys pick up snow and toss it at each other. Carter looked back as they got smaller and gave a slight wave. She was glad he was too far away to see the wetness in her eyes.
“Pull yourself together,” she said, her breath visible. She eased out onto the slushy road and turned the music up loud. She had a lot to be thankful for and it was time to start pulling herself out of the slump she’d been in.
“More than time,” she said. Thoughts of Ryan and missing him tried to creep in but she made herself sing along to the music, drowning him out. At least for the moment.
When she got home, she had messages from Leslie and her mom. Determined to move forward, she made a list of what she would need to host a wonderful Thanksgiving. She had visions of inviting the boys and Sue and Nelson. Would Ryan be around for the holidays? He had a family of his own. He certainly didn’t need her. She put the pen down and listened to her own stuttering breaths. Stop it. Stop.
Her parents would come for Christmas. By the New Year, she’d be refocused. She loved her house, this small town, and she’d started to feel part of something, like she mattered. She did not need Ryan for any of that. Regardless of how much she still wanted him or how much she felt like she would never be completely whole without him.
Chapter 43
There were two options in Ryan’s mind: Throw the phone or turn it off. He turned it off. Since he’d gotten back from LA, it had been ringing or buzzing non-stop. Daniel, his brother, his mom, Shay. Wesley Smyth. Several of the calls were from him. Ryan rushed through his shower, refusing to be late for practice. He’d touched base with Coach Marsh before he’d left and since he’d returned. He hadn’t expected to like coaching so much. Even Stuart was growing on him, though Ryan still had no idea what he did for the team. Jumping out of the shower, he towel-dried his hair and body, dressed, and was out the door within forty minutes of getting home from LA. He refused to look at Frankie’s house.
“She’s fine.” And he didn’t doubt it. It was him who wasn’t fine. Driving through town, he saw Mr. Mason, who owned a small video and candy store, sweeping snow from the porch. The old man waved, a toque pulled down his head so far, Ryan was surprised he could see. The first time Ryan had realized the guy actually rented videos, he wondered if he’d been transported back in time. Apparently, no one had told West Lake about Netflix. But he’d soon learned that, like the other tiny, likely unnecessary shops that made up Main Street, the store was more about continuity and community than anything else. Rolling his shoulders, stiff from daily batting practice while he was out of town, he settled in for the ten-minute ride, not minding that Blake Shelton songs were played back to back. Something was happening at the school when he pulled into the parking lot. Unease settled in his gut when he saw the news camera van. He parked far enough away that he couldn’t see any commotion. Keeping his head tucked to avoid the wind, he pulled open the gym doors and saw the guys already doing sprints from one wall to the other. Stuart was timing them. Coach Marsh was nowhere to be seen so Ryan ditched his bag and jumped right in.
“How long you guys been at it, Stuart?”
“Only five minutes. Coach said to get them warmed up. He had something to do at the office.”
Ryan’s eyes found Carter quickly. His hand faltered mid-wave when he saw the ice in Carter’s gaze. What the hell? He blew the whistle to call them all in. Stuart followed him to the center of the gym, clipboard in hand.
“Hey guys. You’re looking good, even with Stuart going easy on you,” Ryan said, smiling warmly, taken aback by how glad he was to be standing there. He’d missed them.
&nbs
p; “Might as well let them hate you instead of me,” Stuart said, making a few of the kids laugh. Ryan looked at him and crossed his arms over his chest. Stuart met his stare but his eyes darted away after a few seconds.
“Did you just make a joke, Stuart?” More of the boys laughed. Carter was not one of them.
“Where were you, Coach?”
“I was in LA dealing with some paperwork. Let’s split into groups,” Ryan said.
“Maybe you should have stayed in LA,” Carter said, backing away from the group.
“I’ll take the pitchers for the first twenty minutes. The rest of you go with Stuart. Run drills with them and record their times. Carter, come here,” Ryan said. The boys spaced out, the pitchers heading over to wait, obviously reading the tension.
“What?”
“What is your problem? You okay?”
Carter’s lips pushed together and he shook his head. “Like you care, man. Like you care.”
“Is Frankie okay?” Even asking made Ryan’s heart beat fast. Of course, she was okay. There was no other option. Still, the time between question and answer was too much.
“Sure. I think. But again, like you care.”
Ryan looked over to where the pitchers had started tossing the ball to each other, warming up their shoulders. Stuart was doing burpees with the others. More accurately, watching them do burpees. Ryan put his hands on his hips, praying to whatever God controlled teenage moods for patience.
“I do care. And what do you mean ‘you think?’ How can you not know? Have you guys moved back in yet?” Ryan tried to keep his voice low. He wanted to yank Carter into the change room and get him to talk to him. Carter’s eyes widened and the shock in them confused Ryan. They didn’t have time for this.
“You dumped her because of us and you don’t even know?” Carter’s shock turned to a look of disgust. Ryan was quickly losing his patience. What the hell was going on?
“I didn’t dump her. I made a decision based on what was best for her. What was best for all of you,” Ryan said. The other guys were starting to look their way, shooting glances and mumbling.
“Yeah. Of course. ‘Cause you’d know what’s best for us and for her. I’m sure her broken heart will do her a lot of good, man. Especially being alone,” Carter said, backing away slowly, his tone dripping with the disdain his face showed.
“She’s not alone. That was the whole goddamn point. She has you. And your brothers. That wasn’t going to happen if I stuck around,” Ryan’s said through clenched teeth.
He heard the commotion behind him but didn’t turn to see what it was. He didn’t care. He needed answers or a life raft or something. He was drowning in Carter’s words, in the way he was backing away from him like being near him was too much.
“Tell yourself whatever you have to, man. Whatever helps you sleep at night. We were all stupid to think you cared about us. The only person you care about is you.”
“Uh—Ryan?” Stuart’s voice came from behind him.
“Not now,” Ryan spat. “Carter, come back here.” A flash of light hit Ryan’s eyes as Carter kept walking. He spun around to face Stuart, looking embarrassed and uncertain, a reporter and cameraman behind him. Coach Marsh was standing at his side, his sloppy face beaming.
“Mr. Walker, I’m Natalie Walton from the Minnesota News. We’d love to ask you some questions,” a perky blonde with too much make-up said. The camera was pointed at him.
“There you go, spotlight is on you. Just like you want,” Carter said, derision making the words hard, cold.
“You have no idea what I want,” Ryan ground out.
“We’d like to ask you some questions. Coach Marsh tells us you’ve been helping this team and we recently heard that you were offered a professional coaching contract but chose this instead,” Natalie-too-happy-Walton rambled. Ryan ran his hands through his hair, but resisted yanking it out. Goddamn media. Blowing everything out of proportion.
“Carter.”
Carter started walking away and Ryan felt his control slipping like a loose knot that needed to be tied again and again. Natalie, undeterred, asked Coach Marsh a question. Stuart, who had more sense than Ryan had given him credit for, hustled the guys to the other side of the gym.
“We’re real happy to have him, that’s for sure. But he wanted to be here. Isn’t that right, Ryan? We’re going all the way to state this year,” Coach boasted. The cameraman was filming Marsh now. Ryan wanted nothing to do with this.
“What makes a professional baseball player, one of the best sluggers to play the game, choose an unknown small-town team over the chance to get back in the show, in whatever way possible?” Natalie’s eyes were narrowed. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew that her questions were putting him on the spot and she was loving it. This is what the media did. Sharks. They fed on blood and Ryan felt like he was dripping, just whetting their appetites.
“No comment.” He started walking through them, trying to get away.
“Do you also not want to comment about Wesley Smyth offering you a dream job? A job some people aren’t even sure you deserve, even if your name did get cleared? Are you done with professional baseball completely or just getting back at Smyth for not having your back when he should have?”
The woman could package her questions up like a fucking bouquet of passive aggression. He spun and faced her, looking at Marsh as well, who was loving the spotlight.
“What makes a guy choose a small-town team? The lack of vultures circling, waiting for someone to mess up, be human. Waiting for someone to fail. That’s what makes me choose this over Wes’s offer. Not having to be around bottom-feeding pariahs like you who just want to make the front page.” He knew he’d regret the words but the way they made her face blanch assured him he’d made his point. He was done with that life. Not baseball. He’d never be done with baseball. Wes had offered him a dream on a platter but all Ryan had seen was a noose. He couldn’t go back. Not to what he’d had. He hadn’t wanted to leave the way he did but if it hadn’t happened that way, he might never have left. And he wouldn’t have found Frankie. And the boys. He wouldn’t be so sure about what he wanted, from baseball and from life. And what he wanted didn’t include answering questions that no one had the right to ask.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Ryan said, pointing at Marsh, whose meaty face was now pale. Ryan turned his back and stomped all the way to his truck.
Chapter 44
Ryan sped up his driveway, paying no mind to the snow. He slammed the truck door and knew he should calm down before seeing her, but it had been too long already. And for absolutely nothing. He was at her door before he could stop himself. When it opened, he did not expect Cameron, or the anger and regret that pummeled him from the inside out.
“You son of a bitch,” he said.
He stepped into the house and led with his right. His fist plowed squarely into Cameron’s jaw, knocking the man back several steps and causing a fair amount of screaming from Chloe and Frankie.
Frankie raced toward Cameron, making Ryan’s haze redder.
“Ryan! What are you doing?”
He saw Chloe from the corner of his eye going to Cam’s side, touching his jaw, watched him jerk away from both women.
“You told me she’d lose them with me in her life,” Ryan said, anger turning to despair. His shoulders slumped when he realized it wasn’t only anger burning him but the gnawing worry that it was too late.
Frankie froze in front of him, her eyes shining with tears. “What are you talking about?” Ryan’s breathing leveled but his chest was still tight. He looked at Frankie, drank her in, the sight of her quenching the thirst that had haunted him since the moment he’d said goodbye. He stepped over to her and cringed when she stepped back.
“Frankie.”
“You should go.”
They stared at each other and he sent a hard look to Cameron, who still rubbed his jaw. He pointed at him. “What the fuck are you even doing he
re?”
Cameron’s eyes zipped back and forth between Frankie and Ryan. His shoulders slumped but Ryan didn’t care. He held Ryan’s glare. “I came to apologize to Frankie.”
A low growl erupted from Ryan’s chest. Everything, his skin, his bones, everything inside of him felt brittle. Ready to snap. “You better fix this.”
Cameron nodded. “I’m trying. He has every right to be mad, Frankie.”
“He has no right to hit you or stomp around like a child. You made your choice, Walker,” Chloe said.
Had he not been fueled by the desperation to pull Frankie into his arms, he might have admired the way she went toe to toe with him.
Cameron cleared his throat. “I told him you wouldn’t get the boys if he stayed with you.”
Chloe’s gasp of surprise was muffled by Frankie’s demanding words, “You what? Why?” “Because he’s an asshole,” Ryan offered.
“Screw you, Ryan. Leslie told me the social worker was concerned about his past,” Cam answered, looking at Frankie.
Frankie shook her head, like somehow she could make the information settle in a way that made sense.
Frankie looked back and forth between the two men. “But why would she call you?”
Cameron ran a hand through his hair and Ryan enjoyed seeing the disheveled look on the man’s face. “I felt badly about things so I…uh…I went to see her and…well, you know she likes me, and she told me—”
Frankie didn’t let him finish. She kept shaking her head and walking back and forth, agitation showing in her quick, hard steps. She whirled on them, pointing at Cameron. “So, you decided to go to my boyfriend and scare him off.”
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