Instant Family. Donna Gartshore
thought about what was facing him at summer’s end, and an acute ache pulsed behind his eyes. But he couldn’t dwell on that now. The time to move his father into full-time care loomed soon enough without him letting his worry about it devour the days they had here.
His father grinned and waved happily at the little girl, and Ben braced himself.
“Would you like to walk down to the beach with me and look for seashells?” he asked her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to say to a little girl he had never met.
Ben saw the woman study his father for a moment, and then a glimmer of understanding crept into her eyes.
“Dad, we don’t know these people,” he said, willing a gentle voice, almost as if speaking to a child. “And you know what I’ve told you about talking to strangers.”
The man hung his head and shuffled his feet back and forth in the dirt on the road between the cabins. The action stirred up a small cloud of dust.
“Did you have your nap?” Ben asked.
His dad shrugged and his open face threatened to collapse into a scowl.
Ben pretended not to notice the change in his dad’s mood and pushed away the foreboding in his own gut. It was, he reminded himself, the least he could do to take care of his father. Especially since there were times that he hadn’t been there when he should have been.
“You know I told you that if you had a nap and gave me some time to get some things done, I would take you for ice cream,” Ben said, pushing down the surge of guilt that threatened to rise up into his throat. The last thing he needed was to feel more guilt over this woman and girl he didn’t even know.
The man’s mouth made shapes without any words coming out and he kicked the dirt harder, in an expression of inarticulate frustration.
“Mom?” The girl tugged on her mother’s hand and whispered loudly, “What’s wrong with that man?”
“Rae...” the woman began to protest.
“It’s okay,” Ben said, directing his words to her. “My father has Alzheimer’s disease. I’m not sure how to explain that to your little girl.”
Her lovely brown eyes searched his face for a moment and then she gave a small nod. She glanced down at the girl.
“I’ll explain later, Rae.” She looked at Ben again. “Any ideas on what I can do about the cabin?”
“If you can wait until I get my dad settled again, I’ll take you down to the office and you can talk to the people who manage these cabins.”
“Will they be able to do anything about it? I think I should go talk to them right away.”
“They’ve been getting cleaning crews out. If you can hold off just a bit, it might help if I go with you. They’ve known Dad and me for a long time.”
Ben’s father started to wander off and Ben reached out and took his hand. They tussled briefly as the older man tried to get away, but eventually he calmed down and allowed his son to lead him back toward their cabin.
“There’s a good place for ice cream just at the end of the walk,” Ben said over his shoulder. “Turn right. It’s the place with all the big umbrellas.”
After a challenging ten minutes or so, Ben got his father settled back into their cabin and gave him a pile of hand towels to fold to keep him preoccupied. He found that repetitive activities calmed his father.
Ben eased himself out the cabin door, locking it behind him. He walked quickly, then broke into a jog, anxious to get to the Ice Cream Adventure as soon as possible. He had to admit that it wasn’t only because he was worried about what his Dad might do if he got bored of folding and realized that he had been left alone in the cabin. He told himself that he just wanted to get the situation rectified as quickly as possible. But something about the woman—her fragility, combined with her obvious determination to be strong—tugged at him.
When he spotted them sitting under a gaudy orange umbrella, nibbling and licking at ice-cream cones, Ben breathed a thankful prayer.
He paused a moment to gather himself. He’d already made a bad first impression and he didn’t want to swoop down on them like he was on a hunt.
“Hi,” he said, as he drew near to their table. “I see you waited.”
The woman studied him as if she was trying to decide what would be an appropriate response. Ben noticed how long her eyelashes were, framing her large, expressive eyes.
Finally, she said, “Well, there wasn’t really much else we could do, was there?” She looked at her little girl to signify she didn’t want to alarm her any more than she had been.
Her tone was mild enough, but it made Ben squirm a little.
“I’d really like it if we could start fresh,” he said. “So, when you’re finished your ice cream, I’d be happy to go with you to the office to explain the situation and make sure you get the help you need.”
The last part of his statement made the woman suddenly sit up straight in her chair and square her shoulders.
“Thank you for your concern,” she said in a polite tone with frosted tips, “but I’ll figure something out.”
The little girl nibbled her ice-cream cone like a nervous mouse and her eyes darted up to Ben, back to her mother and back to Ben again.
“Look,” Ben said, “I know it was wrong of me to take my stress out on you, but can you please forgive me so we can move past it?”
Was it his imagination, or did her mouth stiffen a bit at the word forgive?
She shrugged. “Okay, no big deal. We all have stress, right?”
Ben found himself wanting to ask her what she was stressed about. You don’t need to know, he reminded himself. You have enough of your own to deal with right now.
These days, it felt like it was nothing more than sheer effort, coupled with a long-standing faith, that kept him from wondering why he bothered with God. Yet, although his father’s disease now challenged Ben, it was his father who had taught him in the first place to trust God in all situations.
The tough times are when you have to lean on him harder than ever, his father had always said.
Lord, I’m leaning as hard as I can. Please help me to trust that You won’t let me fall.
He shook himself out of his reverie and realized that the child was watching him warily.
She was a cute little girl, he thought, although a bit unkempt, with the ends of her braids going fuzzy in the humidity and her glasses sitting a bit lopsided on her nose. He also noted that she must take after her father, wherever he was, because her features were round and soft, whereas her mother’s features were small and delicate. Regardless, he certainly wasn’t going to ask.
“I won’t force my help on you,” Ben said, looking from one to another, “but please let me know if you need anything. Since we’re going to be neighbors for the summer, I hope we can get along. I’m Ben Cedar.”
The woman scrutinized his face again. Ben wished he could ask her what she was looking for, although he sensed that she might not be able to answer that question even if she wanted to. Then she gave a brief sharp nod as if she’d made a decision.
“Frankie,” she said. “And my daughter is Rae.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ben said. He noticed that ice cream from Frankie’s cone was melting its sweet and sticky way down her arm while she kept her eyes on him.
He looked away. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate it being pointed out to her.
“Frankie?” he said, instead. “Is that a nickname for something? Frances? Or Francesca?”
“Francesca,”