Instant Family. Donna Gartshore
really his dad that Ben thought about as he pushed the eggs around the pan and opened the fridge to locate the bread. He was grateful that the Lord had kept his father safe today, and he was surprised at the role Frankie had played.
He thought about how her direct gaze seemed to compel him to do things like give up his cabin. He wished he knew more of Frankie’s story, but sensed that she would be very reluctant to share it.
Someone had hurt her and that little girl of hers, of that much he was sure. Despite Frankie’s tough exterior, her pretense of not wanting to accept favors from anyone, Ben sensed a longing that hung around her like a cloak. He could identify with that. No matter how different the reasons were behind it, he was absolutely sure they both carried the burden of regret.
He had no doubt that she would do anything to protect her daughter, but from the way she had readily stepped forward to defend his dad, it seemed that her protective instincts didn’t stop at Rae.
She possessed a complexity of traits and Ben realized that he found that very appealing. The kinds of women he had always dated were the ones he had grown up with at church. They had all known each other from the time they had been angels and shepherds in the Christmas pageant, through youth groups and confirmation classes, all the way to some of them getting married and having kids. He had been on good enough terms with all of them, but there hadn’t been a single one he could have envisioned a future with. Maybe that was because he had always felt as if he was playing a role—the role of the pastor’s son.
He was thirty and had never married. He had never met a woman who he felt he could be completely himself with. Then he had been called to do missionary work, or at least what he told himself was the call. Now, with all he was coping with and preparing for in regard to his father, it was the last thing on his mind.
Ben put Al’s favorite mug on the table, the one with the picture of a fat Canada goose on it, and poured chocolate milk into it. The rather smug look on the goose’s face always made him chuckle.
“What are you laughing at, son?”
Ah, there it was. Ben stopped short against the tormenting bliss of it. It was one of those rare moments of lucidity—he had heard other caregivers talk of it—when your loved one returned for a moment to being the person you had known.
He swallowed and said, “I was just looking at this.” He pointed to the goose. “Supper’s almost ready. Are you hungry?”
As quickly as it came, Al slipped back behind the gray gauze where no one could reach him. He stamped his foot and waved his arms at his son.
“Nope! Nope!”
Ben managed to get him to sit down and put ketchup on his scrambled eggs the way Al liked it. He bowed his head and gave thanks for their supper.
“Amen,” Al said dutifully. There were some things he always remembered.
Despite his best efforts to push the thought to the back of his mind, Ben’s stomach roiled at the images of the care facility that would be necessary by the end of the summer. He watched his father eat without much appetite himself.
Bits of conversation and laughter drifted in from other cabins. Ben could hear the sound of bikes going down the path and of music playing in the distance. He wondered what Frankie and Rae were having for supper. Probably something more exciting than scrambled eggs, he mused.
But he had to ask himself why he was thinking about her. Clearly she had walls as thick as cement and he had enough to deal with right now. He also suspected that her life was consumed with her own worries and concerns.
A loud squeak of dismay permeated the air. Was that Frankie? Ben half rose from his chair.
“It’s okay! We’ve got this!” Yes, that was her voice, no doubt reassuring Rae about something. There was a clatter and an audible gasp.
Ben couldn’t help himself—he had to look out the door and see what was going on.
He watched from the doorway as Frankie made a valid attempt to light the barbecue grill on their deck. The flames went from nonexistent to a fiery roar.
It would embarrass her if he went right out there, Ben reasoned. Besides, if he was being totally honest with himself, he found himself caught up in just watching her. Finding her as attractive as he did unsettled him, but he couldn’t help it.
That brief moment when he had thought she was a boy had completely disappeared into the land of the absurd. In her blue jean shorts and light plaid blouse, she was indisputably feminine. No longer under the ball cap, her hair was pulled up into a ponytail that swayed and bounced and almost seemed to have a personality of its own as Frankie leaned closer to the flames and then jumped back again. It was a deep auburn color, with the sun kissing it here and there into shades of strawberry blonde.
“Maybe Ben can help us?” Ben heard Rae offer.
“Ben?” Frankie stopped her maneuverings and put her hands on her hips. “No, honey, we’re not going to ask him for any more help.”
She stood with her hands anchored to her hips and her legs slightly apart, and looked around as if hoping the solution would come by carried on the breeze.
When her eyes fell on Ben, she froze. Then her cheeks flushed pink.
“How long have you been there?” she asked.
“Not long,” Ben said. He knew she didn’t want to be seen as incompetent “I heard a noise and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Ben looked at her, looked at the raging fire and back at her again. His mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a grin.
“I can see that,” he said with mock seriousness.
“Are you laughing at me?” She still looked upset, but he could tell that she was also starting to see the humor in the situation.
“I would never do that,” Ben said in an overly solemn tone, placing his hand on his heart with a dramatic gesture.
Rae giggled heartily, and they both turned to look at her.
Frankie’s face was wreathed in pleased surprise. “I haven’t heard that sound for a while,” she admitted, and then snapped her mouth shut as if to keep herself from revealing more.
“Mom, can he please just start the fire for us?” Rae begged. “I’m totally starving and then we could probably eat in, like, ten minutes.”
“Your daughter’s pretty smart,” Ben said. “She makes a lot of sense for—an eight-year-old?” he guessed.
“I’m ten,” Rae corrected him, fixing him with a flat look that made him chuckle again. It was abundantly clear what she thought of his age-guessing abilities.
“Now what’s funny?” Frankie asked.
“Nothing... It’s just that her expression reminded me very much of you.”
“How can you say that when you don’t even know me,” Frankie retorted.
Oh, but somehow he felt like he did, Ben thought. And he didn’t want to because he didn’t need his life to get more complicated.
He clapped his hands together, briskly, and said, “How about it? I could show you how to manage this temperamental beast now, and next time it’s all you.”
“Well, I guess so,” Frankie agreed reluctantly. “But then you and your dad must join us for supper because you’ve already done enough for us. That is, if you haven’t already eaten.”
“We just started eating,” Ben said. He did a quick check over his shoulder at Al, who was flattening his eggs with his fork, but still in his chair.
“Well...”