“No, of course not.” Frankie ran a knuckle under each eye, wiping away the dampness. “What can I do? What do you need? You want to talk? Cry? Drink? I’m here for whatever.”
Harper smiled. “I know you are. And thank you. I don’t really need anything right now. I’m going out to Nevada to deal with everything, probably leaving tomorrow morning. Mitch is going with me. He’s making the travel arrangements.”
Frankie nodded in approval. “That’s really good of him.”
“He was great today.” Harper took another breath with the kind of effort that made it seem like she was actively working on staying level. “All I really need is for you guys to look after Archie while I’m gone.”
“We can do that. He’ll be the most well-cared-for dog ever.”
“Thanks.” Harper rubbed her sister’s arm. “I’m going to lay down for a bit. I’m just worn out, you know?”
“I bet,” Frankie said. “You need anything, you yell or text or whatever.”
Harper headed for the steps, then paused. “Willa upstairs?”
“I think she’s in the guest house with Jack. He’s teaching her to knit. They found a ball of string and some chopsticks.” Frankie laughed.
“Okay. I need to tell her I’m not up for the beach now.”
“Listen, don’t worry about that. I’ll let them both know. You go rest.”
“Thanks.” Harper trudged up the steps like she was on autopilot.
Frankie stood a moment, watching her go, her heart breaking for her sister. Losing the only real mother she’d known, even with Annie’s dementia, had to be incredibly painful. How prepared could anyone be to lose a loved one?
She went back to her canvas. She had a lot of work left to do today, but it could wait. She’d take a break to let Jack and Willa know about the change in plans. She cleaned her brushesso they’d be ready to go when she got back, turned her music off, then went upstairs.
The house was quiet, and Harper’s door was shut. No sign of Archie, either. He was probably in with Harper. Dogs had a way of sensing when they were needed.
Frankie went across the breezeway to the guest house and knocked on the door. The sheers were pulled across the windows, keeping the paparazzi from getting photos. She turned to glare at the boats still anchored in the river inlet.
Willa opened it. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Frankie said as she came in and closed the door behind her. The guest house smelled like coffee and men’s cologne.
“No worries,” Jack said. The throw hanging from his needles had tripled in size since the last time she’d seen it.
Frankie took a breath. “Harper’s not going to the beach today. She’s had some bad news. Her mom passed away.”
“Oh, man.” Jack shook his head. He rested his knitting on his lap. “I know that pain. My heart goes out to her.”
Willa looked stricken. “Is Aunt Harper okay? Does she need anything? I can run to the store or wherever, if she wants something we don’t have.”
“No, sweetheart, thank you. She’s laying down right now. She’s going out to Nevada to take care of things soon. Mitch is going with her.”
“Good man,” Jack said softly. He rubbed his chin, his gaze distant and heavy with sympathy.
“Obviously, you guys can still go to the beach if you want to. She’s just not up to it.”
“Are you coming?” Willa asked.
Frankie shook her head. “I wasn’t planning to. I’m trying to make some headway on the portrait.”
Jack looked up. “You should come with us. The negative ions in the air that comes off the waves has been scientifically proven to reduce stress and improve creativity, man. It’s an actual fact.”
Frankie wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.
He spread his hands. “Not only that, but negative ions are like nature’s antidepressants. You sure we couldn’t get Harper to come with us? Might be good for her.”
