“Sorry, sweetheart, I wasn’t.” I glanced her way with an apologetic smile.
“You can’t sit with us,” she started. “We want to eat alone. So we can talk.”
“I understand, but you know I won’t actually be leaving you alone, right?”
Frankie let out a deflated sound. “I know.”
“Frankie, you’re only twelve,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she griped.
I didn’t know anything about Cami. I’d spoken briefly to her older sister, Maggie, when we set up this meeting. They both seemed nice enough, and the interactions I’d had with Rhoda over the last few days were always friendly. But a mother worried about her daughter’s friends.
Would she be mean to Frankie?
Was she a young thirteen who had things in common with Frankie?
Or an old thirteen who would pressure her into makeup and boys?
Would she scoff at the lack of money and prestige we had?
Or would she be humble and kind, like that Tim McGraw song?
Pulling into the diner, I knew we were the first to arrive. The dinner rush hadn’t started yet, and few people occupied the restaurant. Frankie could have her choice of tables or booths.
The familiar jingle rang out across the room as we entered, and I had gotten accustomed to the brief attention. I even found myself doing the same when we ate here and the door opened. Not that I would recognize anyone entering the establishment.
Except him.
I would recognize him because he haunted my dreams. His face was seared into my memory. I’d told him to stay away from my daughter, to never come near her again. But the truth was, I needed him to stay away from me even more.
“Can you sit with me until she gets here?” Frankie asked with a hint of trepidation. This was a big day for her. My girl was twelve years old, and she’d never had friends. She was five years old when I had Richard arrested and then divorced him. Barely in kindergarten. For years afterward, we moved around, afraid to settle in any one place.
Until Arizona.
Finally, I felt like we were far enough away that he wouldn’t come back, but by then it had been me and Frankie for so long, neither of us knew how to function without the other.
Then I met Clay and before I knew it, we were living at the clubhouse.
I knew I would never move her again if Cami turned out to be someone Frankie could be friends with. My girl needed peers her own age. Slyce thought I did too, but I’d had enough of that bullshit.
Friends meant you were opening yourself up to vulnerability. It was what Frankie was doing now, and I saw the fear in her eyes. She was afraid of being rejected, despite the hours the girls had spent talking on the phone.
“Of course. Pick a spot.” I smiled and ran a hand down her back, letting her know I had her. I always would.
She picked a booth near the window and stared through the glass as we waited quietly. Me, afraid of asking her questions that might heighten her anxiety. Her, afraid to give her anxiety a voice.
Last week, whenhe who shall not be namedbroke my daughter’s heart by rejecting her breakfast and dinnerinvitation, she went to her room as soon as we returned home. She stayed there all evening. Tried to hide how much his rejection hurt, and while I didn’t understand it, it still broke my heart to see her so sad.
The bell over the door jingled, and a young woman with two children walked in. She was beautiful with her red hair piled up high on her head and small tendrils framing her face in a way that looked natural. Unlike me, whose hair was always one step away from the result of electrocution. I reached up and patted my ponytail, suddenly feeling inadequate. She looked a little taller than me, dressed in overalls and a green henley, the same as the girl beside her. The other child, a boy, wore a stern expression, as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“I think that’s her, Frankie,” I whispered.
Frankie focused on the small family and smiled wide. She moved to stand, and the girl rushed over.
“Please tell me you’re Frankie,” she said, looking over my daughter’s outfit. Frankie had chosen to wear her signature leggings and oversized hoodie.
Frankie didn’t give a lick about fashion, which worked in my favor seeing as I didn’t have the kind of money to dress her in the latest trends.
