Instant Family. Donna Gartshore
the day. He didn’t know how he would find the time to manage his father and do something for the community, as well.
“Thank you,” Frankie said to Lydia. It seemed she had chosen to ignore Ben’s role in the backup plan.
Ben walked back to Al, who gave up his stones without a fuss and allowed Ben to lead him by the hand back to where Frankie and Lydia were chatting.
Frankie asked Lydia, “How’s this all going to get cleaned up? Is there anything we can do to help?”
“I’ll let you know,” Lydia said. “I’m sure there’ll be a meeting of some kind to figure out a plan.” She grimaced slightly. “I should say, yet another plan. Anyway, thanks for asking.”
“Keep me posted, too,” Ben interjected. “You’re new here, Lydia, so you don’t know that I have a general contracting company and I’d be happy to offer my advice and assistance any way I can.”
“Thank you, we appreciate that,” Lydia said. “Speaking of helping out, I’d better get back up there and see what I can do.”
“What are you going to do while Rae’s at her art class?” Ben asked. He tried to pass it off as a simple conversational question, but he was genuinely curious.
Frankie shrugged her shoulders and looked slightly wary. “I don’t have any real plans. Maybe go for a walk or something.” Once again, Ben had the distinct impression that she had plans she didn’t wish to share with him. There was really no reason she should, he reminded himself.
“Dad will want to walk, too, if you don’t mind...?” He let the question hang between them.
“Maybe I’ll catch up with you later,” Frankie answered, after a pause. “After I take Rae to the library.” Her face was unreadable and she didn’t quite meet his eyes.
* * *
“I’ll be back here right at noon to get you,” Frankie told Rae as she got her settled at the library. “So, don’t worry and...”
“I’m not worried, Mom,” Rae said. “Don’t you worry—go have fun.”
Frankie smiled at her daughter’s rather parental proclamation and kissed Rae on the top of her head.
“I’ll do my best.”
Sometimes when she was separated from Rae, Frankie felt slightly at a loss over what she would do to pass the time. It was a familiar sensation to the one she had at home when Rae was out playing with a friend—in the days before she had become so withdrawn—or having a sleepover at Nana and Pops’s house.
She considered remaining at the library, telling herself that it would be relaxing to find a magazine to read. It didn’t take long to dismiss that idea. No doubt, Rae would find it lame, as she described things that did not impress her, to have her mother hovering while she was in class. Besides, Frankie reminded herself, she was here to consider how to get her own life back in order, too, and to simply enjoy the beautiful surroundings.
Frankie wondered what Ben was doing and then rapidly tried to stop. But a disturbing truth nudged at her heart. She was upset with herself in the ways she had let him into their lives already and wanted to put a halt to that before she found herself unwittingly dependent on him. Because he was bound to let her down—that’s what men did.
She decided to go for a walk and take the time to check out some of the shops, which she had not done thoroughly yet. She thought she might also pop back around to the Nature Center to see if Lydia had found anything else out about the help that was needed.
Things had certainly taken an interesting turn with regard to Lydia. After the way they had met, Frankie hadn’t expected an apology or the sense that she and the volunteer worker might actually get along. The women in a small Bible study group that Frankie had once belonged to would call it a “God thing,” an idea that she immediately wanted to dismiss...yet, it lingered faintly with her.
Lydia, Frankie thought, might be a refreshing change: she was a little rough around the edges, but she had readily admitted her wrongdoing and Frankie thought there was a lot of promise in that.
A stop by the Nature Center revealed that it was still locked up, and the crowd had dispersed except for a police officer and a man discussing something. Frankie couldn’t hear their words, but the tension in their body postures made it apparent that it wasn’t an easy conversation. The suit the man wore was a loud declaration that he was a visitor and not part of the regular beach community.
The problem, Frankie thought, as she looked around for Lydia, was that her time hadn’t really felt like her own for years, and now that she had it she hardly knew what to do with herself.
She couldn’t see Lydia anywhere, so she kept walking.
Frankie recalled the way her ex-husband had frequently reminded her that she was lucky to have him, always pointing out what he considered flaws in her appearance and shortcomings in her personality.
Ben wouldn’t treat his wife that way. The thought came unbidden and rattled her.
She heard footsteps hurrying up behind her and turned to see Lydia catching up.
“Did you come by the center again?” Lydia asked. “Sorry if I missed you. My boss wanted to look around inside and see if there’s damage in there but the police don’t want us to move or touch anything, so they’ve sent me on an early break while they decide what needs to be done next.”
“I’m a bit at loose ends myself,” Frankie confessed. “I’m just walking, if you want to join me.”
Lydia fell into place beside her.
“What else is being said?” Frankie asked. “About the vandalism, I mean?”
“Not too much, at least to me,” Lydia said. “As you can probably tell, I’m a bit of a fish out of water here—no pun intended. I was supposed to be helping the curator at the Western Development Museum in Saskatoon, but that fell through at the last minute, so I ended up here. It’s not bad, just not what I’d hoped for.”
Frankie thought about how familiar she was with the feeling of things not working out the way she hoped.
“Hey, he’s pretty good-looking. Ben, I mean,” Lydia said. “How long have you been friends?”
“A little while,” Frankie murmured vaguely. For a moment, she was tempted to divulge her ruse, but Lydia started talking about something else and the moment passed.
“You seem like a bit of a fish out of water, too,” Lydia said bluntly. “I mean, I can tell you don’t know people around here the way your friend does. So, what’s your story?”
Frankie had been so used to avoiding the topic and feeling constantly burdened with shame that she was surprised to hear the words “I’m divorced,” come out of her mouth. And even more surprised to feel how good it felt to say them to someone she didn’t have any history with or owe any explanation to.
Lydia just nodded. “That’s tough,” she said. “So—what’s next?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out this summer.”
“You’ll get there,” Lydia said in a comfortable way. “Do you journal? I find that’s a good way to sort through things and figure out where you want life to take you. It always works for me.”
The thought came into Frankie’s mind that Lydia didn’t look like the journaling type, but she was learning that you could never tell what people had inside of them—good or bad—by how they looked.
“That might be a good idea,” she said, pondering. “Is there somewhere in town that sells journals?”
“Maeve’s Miscellaneous. It’s right beside the beauty salon. We can walk that way, if you like.”
Frankie nodded. “I know where that is.”
Maeve’s