Instant Family. Donna Gartshore
remember there was an old movie,” Ben replied. “Julie Harris, right?”
He felt a certain degree of satisfaction when Frankie blinked her surprise.
“I watched it with my dad one night,” he said. “It was on the late show, some channel where they play old movies.”
Mentioning his dad brought a rush of trepidation to Ben. He really had to get back to the cabin.
Frankie noticed her arm and, with a quick, somewhat accusing glance in his direction, began to wipe the ice cream off with a napkin.
“Are you done?” she said to Rae. “We’d better go see someone about our cabin. It’s going to be fine,” she hurried to reassure her daughter, who suddenly looked like a wizened and worried little old woman. “It’s going to be just fine. I promise.”
Ben thought that the little girl would have no idea what it cost her mother to make that promise, and he could see the sheer will it took for Frankie to keep a smile on her face for the sake of her daughter.
He made a decision then and sent a quick prayer up to the Lord daring to ask Him to bless what was quite possibly the most inane idea he’d ever had. Still, if it would fix the problem and let him get his focus back on why this summer was so important to him—the amends he needed to make—he was willing to take the chance.
“I have a great idea. You’ll take our cabin,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt, “and we’ll move into yours.” He wondered how he would get his father and their belongings relocated. But the words were out and there was no way he was taking them back.
“If you can just find something to do for another hour or so, I’ll stop into the office and make all the arrangements.”
“I need to let them know I’m here,” Frankie protested.
Ben braced himself to stand his ground.
“Could we please, Mom?” Rae’s small voice floated up like a hopeful balloon between them. “I really want a nice cabin like you promised.”
“Please let me do this,” Ben said, nodding his head toward Rae. “I can explain everything to them and you and your daughter can just relax for a bit, and then we’ll call it even.”
“Even?” Frankie retorted. “What have I done for you?”
“You’ll be doing something for me by letting me make up for the misunderstanding,” Ben said.
* * *
Frankie held Rae’s hands as they took their time looking at the displays in the Nature Center. At least Rae looked, and Frankie was grateful that her daughter was occupied. It gave her time to try to organize her own thoughts, which had been jumping from place to place like a skittish cat since they had first laid eyes on their vandalized cabin.
First and foremost, she absolutely had to make sure this summer was a healing time for Rae. As well, she had come to Silver Lake seeking to regain and strengthen her own independence, so she was not happy about needing help from a stranger almost from their first moment there. She hadn’t even wanted to accept financial help from her own parents. When she had heard Ben say that the beach community had been plagued with vandalism this summer, she had fought hard against the feeling that her goals for the summer would fail.
Frankie’s thoughts jumped to Ben. She wasn’t at all sure what to think of him, and at the same time asked herself why she should bother thinking about him at all.
Yet, even if his physical appeal wasn’t enough to draw her attention, there was a complexity about him that intrigued her more than she wanted to admit. He was apologetic and polite on the surface, though she sensed that something darker simmered beneath, as if he had plenty of his own troubles—or secrets—to worry about... Still, his concern and gentleness with his father was evident, and he had insisted on giving up his cabin for them, people he didn’t even know. What kind of person did something like that?
She felt an impatient yank on her hand, which meant Rae had been trying to get her attention.
“Look!” Rae said. “There’s that man again.”
Had Ben come to find them? Frankie wondered.
But, no, the man who ambled with a shuffling gait among the displays, poking out his finger to touch the stuffed and mounted animals, was Ben’s father.
Frankie wondered anxiously if she should approach him. Although she knew he shouldn’t be unattended, she had no idea how he would react to her. Where was Ben? Still, she had worked as an aide in a senior-care home since Rae was six, and almost by instinct she found herself moving toward Ben’s father.
Just before she reached him, a plump woman sporting a large name tag that proclaimed her as a Nature Center volunteer, stepped between them and said rather officiously, “Please don’t touch the displays, sir.”
Ben’s father weaved his head a bit like he was trying to focus on a faraway noise, and then he gave the standing bear, with its ferocious grimace, a little pat.
“I said don’t touch, sir!” the volunteer said more sharply. “Please step away!”
Ben’s father looked confused and his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. Suddenly Frankie had that swell of feeling she sometimes got at the care home—the one when she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
In another moment, though, any inclination to laugh was shoved aside abruptly.
The volunteer reached out and clasped his forearm.
Ben’s father’s eyes widened in shock and rage; his mouth flew open and a horrible cry came out of it. Then he shoved her with all of his might, causing her to lose her balance, stagger back a few steps and topple a display of pert-looking chipmunks.
Even before she could get to her feet, the volunteer was fumbling for her phone as she threatened to call Security.
Frankie’s eyes darted around and found Rae, who looked utterly stricken. She tried to smile reassuringly at her, but felt torn between going to soothe her daughter and staying to help Ben’s father.
Rae would have to understand, Frankie told herself. If she saw her mother being strong and helping someone when it was the right thing to do, it would benefit both of them.
The other patrons at the Nature Center had drifted awkwardly away from the scene, although, Frankie noted with wryness, they stayed close enough to see how things were going to unfold. She headed toward Ben’s father to offer assistance.
“Dad!” Ben’s voice drew her attention. He hurried toward them with a look of relief seasoned with a dash of frustration.
“Dad, I’m so glad you’re safe.” Temporarily unmindful of the chaos around him, Ben put his hands on his father’s shoulders and looked into his eyes before drawing him into a hug.
His flare of violent temper gone, Ben’s father subsided into his son’s arms like a docile child.
“I like animals,” he said softly.
“I know you do, Dad. I know. But you have to wait for me to bring you here. You can’t just disappear on me.”
While Ben spoke patiently to his father, Frankie watched a slight pulse at the corner of his eye that indicated how stressful the incident had been for him.
“So, I assume you’re the one responsible for this—this gentleman?” The volunteer had struggled to her feet and directed her question to Ben.
“He’s my father,” Ben replied. “Most folks know us around here,” he said, attempting to be friendly and smooth things over. “So, I take it you’re new? How long have—”
“Well,