“We should go look at it,” Willa said. She looked ready to bounce off the couch. “I bet it would be perfect for you, Mom.”
Frankie cut her eyes at her daughter. “Let’s take a step back, okay?” She looked at Harper. “That is very generous of you. But again, my job is in Charleston. And I need my job.” The bills her divorce had left her with were no joke.
“What about your artwork?” Harper asked, the screen of her laptop reflecting blue light onto her face. “Couldn’t you focus on that? I realize it’s not bringing in that much, but isn’t that because it’s just a side thing?”
“Yes, but even if I made it my main thing, it’s never going to replace my income as a vice-principal. Not to mention the health insurance.” Frankie shook her head. She just couldn’t make the math work. “It just doesn’t make financial sense.”
Willa frowned. “Then what’s the point of dating Lucas if you’re going back to South Carolina?”
Frankie opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. She had no good response to that. In fact, it made her a little sad.
Willa leaned forward. “Does he know you’re leaving? Or does he think you’re going to be here?”
Frankie chewed her lip as that reality settled over her. She answered honestly, as much to herself as to Willa. “I don’t know what he thinks.”
They’d talked so much on the boat today, but not once about her going back to South Carolina. What she did know was that him opening himself up to the possibility of love again was no small thing. Not after what he’d been through with his fiancée.
The bubble she’d been floating around in was quickly losing air.
She sighed. She and Lucas needed to talk.
Chapter Twenty-One
Harper could see how deflated her sister looked. “Hey,” she said softly. “If you and Lucas are meant to be, things will work out. But don’t let the future get in the way of you being happy now.”
Frankie nodded, but the expression on her face didn’t change. “I need to talk to him. Willa’s right. What’s the point of dating him if I’m leaving? He’s not going to want a long-distance thing. They never work. Anyone who says otherwise is fooling themselves.”
Harper felt for her sister. She’d had such a good day. They all had. And Frankie had seemed as light as a feather getting off that boat. She’d been smiling and flirting with Lucas all day. And him with her.
It was obvious they enjoyed each other’s company and had a strong mutual like for one another. Lucas was good for Frankie. Being around him had to feel like a total one-eighty from her relationship with Tom.
Harper tried to think of something positive and uplifting to say. What would she tell a client in this situation? “What do you want, Frankie? In the truest part of your soul, what do you want from your life? Is being a vice-principal meeting those needs?Lucas is an incredible guy. Are you prepared to walk away from him for a job?”
Frankie’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working. Is Lucas amazing? Yes. He’s so good he doesn’t seem real. But my life has all kinds of baggage. Bills and responsibilities and things I can’t just turn my back on because I might have met someone who could be—”
The abrupt end to her words was punctuated by a ragged breath. She got up, shook her head, and muttered a strangled, “Sorry,” then she headed for the stairs, laptop under her arm.
“Mom.” Concern filled Willa’s eyes.
Frankie didn’t stop moving.
Harper’s stomach sank. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. Don’t go, Frankie.”
Hand on the stair railing, Frankie turned, her eyes liquid with unshed tears. “It’s nothing either of you did. It’s just the reality of my crappy life. I don’t know what I was thinking was going to happen. It was stupid to…”
She sniffed and one fat tear rolled down her cheek.
Harper jumped up and went to her sister, pulling her into her arms. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing was stupid. We’ll figure this out.”
Together they sat on the steps.
“There’s nothing to figure out,” Frankie said. “My life is never going to get better. The bills are never going to go away. I’m going to work until I’m eighty and they still won’t be paid and I’ll probably die alone.”
“Mom, stop it.” Willa joined them. “If that’s really how you feel, then you need to make a change right now. I’m serious.”
“I can’t, Willa. That would be great, but it’s not reality. Reality is my life as it is right now. It sucks. But there aren’t any options.”
“First of all, that is not true. There are options,” Willa argued. “Secondly, if I said something like that to you, what would you tell me to do?”
