Page 31 of The Ex Effect
The tears broke through and I covered my face.
“Oh shit. Oh, okay. You’re crying. Um, yep. I got this. I’m a dad now.” Sam tapped me on the back like he was burping a baby. “You’re good. You’re fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad, right?”
I swiped the tears with the back of my grimy hand. “First, I didn’t scrape my knee.” I sniffled. “Second, have you read even a single article on parenting? You should validate kids, not tell them it isn’t that bad.”
Sam leaned the broom against the wall. “Come on. Why don’t we take a breather on the bench and crack a brewski?”
“Beer’s gross.” My nose dripped. I wiped it against my forearm, something I never thought I’d do, but I was filthy and disgusting, and didn’t have any Kleenex.
“Good, ’cause I don’t actually have any with me. How ’bout instead, we take a break, and we split the bars Lisa made.”
Bars?I lifted my chin. “The ones with the cornflakes, peanut butter, and chocolate?”
Sam grinned. “Is there any other kind?”
Even if my brother wasn’t the most emotionally intelligent human I’d ever met, ten minutes later, with my cells buzzing from the pound of sugar I just ingested, I felt better. Sam didn’t ask any questions, most likely knowing I’d talk when I was ready. Instead, we sat in silence, the sun warming the back of my neck, listening to the crew chain up yet another piece of machinery to haul away.
Sam dragged a napkin down his face, then balled it in his palm. “So, you think Frankie’s comin’ back, or should I see if Mom can find another crew member?”
I shrugged. Frankie didn’t have a great track record for staying. And if I dug deep, which was a miserable thing to do, I myself had a pretty solid track record for pushing people away. With that combo, chances weren’t good Frankie would be returning anytime soon. Frankie would most likely fulfill her commitment to her family friend to be the photographer and probably figure out a way to sift through the junk piles, but that might be all.
“We can’t ask Mom. This is already a huge favor to get these guys half-time.” I drank half a bottle of water, then used the rest to rinse the stickiness from my fingers. “I’ll figure it out.”
Those were the words. But the reality was I had no idea if I could figure it out.
Sam pushed his fist into his jaw and cracked his neck. “All I know, is once you set your mind to something, no snowblower, bulldozer, or pack of rabid wolves could stop you.” He nudgedhis shoulder into mine. “Iknowyou’ll figure it out. Let me know if you need me.”
He walked away without another word, surely exhausting the last of his brotherly love for the day.
I spent the better part of the next hour moving scraps of pallet wood to the side of the dumpster, and with each passing minute my heart sank deeper. I really didn’t mean to lash out at Frankie. It wasn’t Frankie’s fault that she shined a mammoth-sized spotlight on my insecurity. But still, I wanted Frankie to care. IneededFrankie to care. I just didn’t know why.
But now was probably the time for me to be the responsible adult and apologize. Like it or not, if we were down a body, I had to figure out a plan. I pulled out my phone and hovered a finger, so close to dialing.Ugh. I can’t do it. Why did this hurt so much? Anger I could deal with. A solid emotion that I knew how to handle. But this ache, low in my chest, hadn’t happened in a lot of years, and Ihatedit. I stuffed the cell back in my overalls.Who has time for this crap?I stormed back into the barn and continued gathering old cleaning products for the hazard dump run.
Another hour passed. Sam left to work at our parents’ shop and fatigue kicked in. I moved to the small tool area and popped my hands on my hips. Screws, nails, and every bolt imaginable overstuffed the space. If Pete and Patty were anything like my parents, discarded gadgets were sacred ground. Although Pete and Patty clearly subscribed to the “never throw anything away because you may need it” rule, with tools, that particular rule was gospel.
“See you tomorrow,” a crew member yelled into the barn, and I waved. The sounds of trucks starting and gravel crunching and truck doors banging swirled outside. I wasn’t going to lie—being alone on this farm was going to be creepy as hell.
The evening sun was still bright enough, thank God, so thedemons lurking the woods couldn’t get me quite yet. But the second the sun started setting, I was out of here.
Something sounding like a twig cracking jolted me, and goosebumps rose on my flesh.No, no…just my imagination.
A moment later, a shadow appeared, and that definitely wasn’t my imagination. I reached for the item closest to me—a three-foot-tall, dusty, plastic candy cane—and held it above my head.
“Better watch out with that thing. You could take an eye out,” Frankie said, her hands up in surrender. “Okay, maybe not an eye, but you could definitely hurt an elf.”
Frankie. Came. Back.Relief flushed through me, superseding the anger I felt when she stormed off.Dear God, please let this mean she’ll stay, and I can pull off this wedding.I dropped the plastic candy cane onto the bench and tried to maintain at least a partially neutral face. She didn’t need to see that I was damn near soaring that I wasn’t alone with coyotes or bears or that the demons wouldn’t snatch me on the way to the car.
“I’m really sorry about what happened earlier,” Frankie said as she stepped into the barn. She shoved her hands in her pockets and kicked at a loose pallet piece. “I let my emotions get the best of me and I shouldn’t have left the way I did. Super uncool of me, and totally unfair.”
And now, Frankieapologized? Holy hell, it was a Christmas tree farm miracle. Sure, Frankie used to apologize all the time—sorry for being late, sorry for forgetting something, sorry for bolting off to practice. But I don’t ever remember her apologizing like this, with maturity and genuine remorse. Maybe it was time to shake the picture of the teen Frankie from my mind, and start to understand this new, adult Frankie.
The golden evening sun broke through the door, highlighting Frankie like a halo. I’m not sure if it was from the wayshe looked in that light, or maybe the physical and emotional exhaustion of the day, but I wanted to leap into those chiseled arms.
“I’m sorry, too.” I inched a few steps closer, twisting my hands. All the pressure of these last few years weighed on me. If I wanted to have a healthy working relationship with Frankie, now might be the time to come clean. I could tell Frankie about the dreams I had for my business and the nightmares that plagued me about my business plummeting. The pressure to always have a smile, that my business was myeverything, and knowing this was my very last chance of making it work made me want to shrivel up in the fetal position.
Or…maybe I could just say “welcome back.”
Yes, that was a better plan.
