That One Day (That One #1.5) (18 page)

It’s Friday night and I’m almost done with Dean and Alex’s room. A few small things still need to be fixed, but they can stop camping out on the couch and enjoy their new, stylish room.

The phone call seems a distant memory and the overall mood in the house has improved again. Though Frankie still keeps her distance, both physically and emotionally, it’s less of a minefield. We even joke around and talk. Things seem to settle down and become less awkward.

It’s close to midnight and too late to call my dad. Everyone else in the house is sleeping. A beer and a video game sound good right about now—a moment to unwind and process everything that’s gone down in the past two weeks.

Walking into the kitchen, I realize I’m not the only one still up. Alex is sitting at the kitchen counter reading a file.

“Hey, Ben.” He sits up straighter, running a hand through his blond hair.

“Alex.”

I notice his calculating gaze trained on me like he’s trying to decipher something. After a moment, he seems to come to a conclusion.

“Care for a beer, Ben?”

I’m wary, but don’t want to be rude. He’s always been nice to me, but more reserved than the others. Not hostile, but also not welcoming. Very neutral, kind of like Switzerland.

“Sure. I wanted to grab one anyway.”

I get two bottles out of the fridge and slide one over to him before sitting down at the counter. An awkward silence follows, while he keeps staring me down. I feel like an insect under a microscope—where the onlooker is unsure whether he wants to study me further or squash me.

“Listen, I won’t beat around the bush. Dean might be hesitant to say anything, not wanting to hurt Frankie’s confidence in him. But if I can spare her anymore pain, I’ll take the risk.”

I know what might be coming and I want to interrupt him, but he speaks before I get a chance to open my mouth.

“She’s family to me. I love her. You don’t seem like a bad guy. I’m sure you had your reasons to leave, but you have no idea what it did to her.” He pauses, taking a swig of his beer. His blue eyes bore into mine when he continues. “That weekend, one girl left and a whole different person returned. She was heartbroken. She felt ashamed and used. So if you’re not planning to stick around, if you’re unsure if this is what you really want, call it quits now before you break her again.”

His words feel like a punch in my face and leave me reeling. Just seeing Frankie, interacting with her, I could tell I hurt her, but hearing from someone else how bad it was makes me feel like complete scum. I never wanted her to feel like this. I expected anger, lots of it. I expected fury. That would have made it easier to apologize. But saying sorry after you break someone’s heart isn’t good enough. Especially when you can’t give them all of you, all of your secrets.

I look him in the eye. “I want her back, Alex. I really do. I want this. I never meant to hurt her. That’s why I left.” I can give him this much. He deserves to know I’m serious.

“One day you’ll have to explain to her why you left. She’ll need it in order to fully heal.”

“I know. And I will, just not yet. I can’t.”

He nods. “Fair enough. Just make sure it happens before it’s too late.”

Alex takes another swig of his beer before standing up, clapping me on the shoulder and walking out of the kitchen.

“Night, Ben.”

“Night.”

I just sit staring into space, my plans to play a video game forgotten. My good mood is long gone as I’m trying to figure out how I can make Frankie forgive me without telling her the whole, ugly truth.

Cold air fills my lungs with every breath I take. I’ve been sitting on this fallen tree for a few minutes, staring out into the fields and forest and trying to process what went down. What brought me here.

The day started out so fucking well. With everyone home, we’d been having a nice breakfast and it felt like I belong. For the first time in two years, I felt really at home somewhere. Especially once we started making Christmas plans.

I’d been worried Frankie wouldn’t want me around for Christmas. It’s a time to spend with people you like and love, not with someone who ripped your heart out. But to my surprise, she wanted me around. Even started planning for me to play Santa for Archer. I’ve been fucking excited, even though I was giving her a hard time about the whole Santa deal. The plans got even better when it turned out Dave would be coming here for Christmas.

Now I doubt I will be welcomed for any of it. The way Frankie looked at me, I wouldn’t be surprised if I find all my shit on the doorstep. Within minutes, any progress we might have made went to hell. And I want to blame my mom or Frankie, but I know I should’ve reacted differently. Shouldn’t have gone off on her like that. For some reason, I just don’t have a handle on my emotions lately. I feel so fucking overwhelmed.

When Frankie confronted me after her phone call with her mom, asking why I haven’t spoken to mine or told her about Archer, I just snapped. The idea of my mom snooping around freaked me out. Instead of letting it go, Frankie kept pushing and pushing. Finally, the lies, secrets, and fears boiled over and I ended up yelling at her—yet again, hurting her feelings. As if that wasn’t enough to ensure every little trust I might have gained dissolved into thin air, I then took off into the woods and ended up here.

“Fuck.” I slam my palms against the tree trunk, barely feeling the sting.

I should have stayed calmer, been nicer, less fucking brutal. Everything is getting to me, though. Every step I take I’m unsure if it’ll bring me closer to Frankie or drive us further apart. With every fucking day, with every one of those thoughts I have, I see more and more similarities between my dad and me.

The way I can’t stop thinking about Frankie, trying to win her back. The all-consuming love for Archer and the fact that I would lay down my life for him—even after knowing him only a couple weeks. What will happen if Frankie says no? If there’s no chance of getting her back? If she finds someone else to take my place? Will I end up like my father?

I considered talking to a shrink, to share my fears and figure out if that scenario is likely. But all the research I have done has shown mental illness can, but doesn’t have to be, hereditary. That’s no help at all and a doc wouldn’t be able to tell me much more, either.

Lost in thought, I don’t notice anything around me until I hear the sound of footsteps. I don’t need to look to know it’s Frankie. As soon as she sits down next to me, I’m enveloped in sandalwood and jasmine. I inhale the comforting scent.

“You’re gonna freeze to death or catch pneumonia, Ben.”

Thinking of all the pain I’ve caused her, all the secrets I’m hiding, I don’t think twice when I say, “Maybe you’d be better off that way.”

She hasn’t heard me so I repeat it again. I haven’t fully finished the sentence when she hits my arm. Damn. Her punch rivals Dave’s, which is impressive considering her petite stature.

“What the fuck was that for?”

I can see the change happen. She sits up straighter, her head held high and the Frankie I remember emerges, yelling at me. “What it was for? For talking such bullshit. We’d be better off? Seriously? What, you have had enough of being a dad already? If so, grab your shit and leave. If not, fucking man up and own it. Don’t say stupid shit like that. It ain’t funny. Not for me. Been there, done that.”

Frustration and anger roll off her when she continues. “Believe it or not, Ben, Archer likes having you around. The guys and Viv like having you around. Mrs. Walsh is getting her panties in a twist over having you around.”

I want her to admit she likes having me around. I look up at her, grinning and giving her the puppy eyes.

“Yes, I like having you around, too.”

“I knew it.” I’m about to gloat in her admission, but she makes sure I don’t get too smug.

“Stuff it, cocky asshole. Doesn’t mean a thing. You’re just growing on me…you know, like mold on the wall.”

Fuck, I missed this Frankie. The banter, the attitude, and the swearing. But, then I suppose I’m not the way she remembers me either. I barely remember myself before shit hit the fan.

“Frankie, I’m sorry. For what I just said and for earlier. I just—I can’t deal with my mom right now and I need you to respect that. Okay?”

To my surprise she accepts my request without further debate, and it feels like we cleared the air a bit. A crushing weight has been lifted off my shoulders, knowing she isn’t kicking me out.

We’re both fucking frozen so we start jogging back to the house. Our banter is filled with innuendos and subtle flirting. Wanting to make the most of the current easiness between us, I suggest a race with the winner getting a wish.

Despite Frankie’s petty attempts at cheating by pushing me off the road, I race past her, not letting this opportunity pass me by. I know exactly what my prize will be. And I can’t wait to collect it.

I recline against the porch, sheltered from any prying eyes in the house by the bannister and the stairs and wait for her to catch up.

She looks miserable walking up to the house. Her face flushed from the exertion, her chest heaving with breaths. I try not to laugh, but can’t suppress a grin. It’s a miracle she doesn’t flip me off when she tries to pass me.

I snatch her arm and press her back against the bannister. She’s caught between my arms with nowhere else to go. Being this close to her, feeling the warmth radiate off her body, her breath on my skin, it does something to me. I don’t want to lose her, be away from her—never again. I want to make her laugh, see a smile on her face instead of the mask of hurt and mistrust she’s been wearing. I want to make love to her until all the pain I caused her is erased, until she feels nothing but happiness and ecstasy.

Her breath hitches.

“What about my wish? You won’t go back on your word, will you, Frankie?”

She shakes her head, her eyes wide—hope, desire, and insecurity visibly battling on her face. Her reaction is all the confirmation I need to be sure she won’t slap me to Alaska and back for what I’m going to do next.

“Good.” I don’t give either of us a chance to think this through. All I know is I want to feel her, taste her. I want to be close to her.

I keep looking in her eyes, right up until the moment when our lips connect. The heated look she’s giving me makes it clear her desire won the battle.

My memories are nothing compared to the real thing. The feel of her lips, soft and pliable, is like fucking heaven. This is how I imagine paradise to be, a complete opposite to the hell I felt after leaving her behind.

I kiss her hard, my lips locking with hers. She doesn’t shy away, doesn’t hesitate. Her lips are just as demanding as mine. Her hands go to my head, holding onto me. I run my tongue along her lips, pushing for access.

A moan escapes her when she opens her lips, and I don’t miss this chance. My tongue tangles with hers, setting my body on fire.

She tastes of peppermint and croissants, and I want to devour her.

I forget all the shit that happened, everything standing between us. The pain, the fears, the secrets. For a few short moments, it’s just us fueled by lust and longing. It’s us fitting together like two puzzle pieces. I press her against the bannister, my body flush against hers. My cock is so hard it might break the zipper of my jeans trying to reach the Promised Land. The part of my brain still working knows I can’t fuck her out here. Can’t fuck her at all just yet, but my cock doesn’t agree.

The decision is made for us when I hear the door open. I hate breaking the kiss, hate letting her go. I don’t know if I should thank Mrs. Walsh for stopping me from doing something stupid, or if I should be pissed off at her. Either way, Frankie and I step away from each other. Yet, I feel the closest to her that I have since I came back.

***

I’m woken up by a noise. Looking at the alarm clock shows it’s only two a.m. Then I hear it again. A tiny whine. Archer must have woken up. I know Frankie can take care of him. But I want to do it. I want him to know his daddy is there for him, to protect him from bad dreams, to chase away any sorrows.

I walk out into the hallway and see Frankie turning the corner toward the stairs.

“Everything okay?” I whisper.

“Yeah, just forgot to bring the new pack of diapers upstairs; he clearly needs to be changed.”

I walk into her room while she heads downstairs. Archer has noticed me and sits up in his crib, sticking his little arms through the slats, reaching for me. “Hey little man, missed your daddy?” I whisper the words and Archer’s face lights up with a smile. Jesus, I’d walk through fire for this little boy. Taking him out of the crib, I lay him down on the changing table and when Frankie comes back with the diapers, I clean him up, change the diaper, and get him dressed again.

“Go back to sleep, Frankie,” I say. “I’ll take care of him.”

She looks sleep-drunk. Her hair disheveled, her eyes half-closed. She mumbles a thank you, kisses Archer, and then crawls back into bed, pulling the covers up to her nose.

Holding Archer, I get us settled in the armchair. He snuggles up to me and I hug him closer. “Daddy loves you, Archer. So much.”

He doesn’t fall back asleep right away. I guess it’s time for a song. It has become somewhat of a ritual when we bring him to bed. My voice seems to soothe him, and I love singing to him, watching him fall asleep in my arms while at the same time being able to talk to Frankie without actually talking. To tell her things I feel without us getting up in each other’s faces. I know she isn’t fully asleep yet, since I watch her wriggle around trying to get comfortable.

I know I hurt her again by not telling her the truth. I can see her need to know more. No matter how often I tell her my leaving had nothing to do with her and that I hated to do it, it’s not enough. I want her to know one day I’ll tell her everything. I want her to give me a chance even though I can’t let her in just yet. And so I start singing Nickelback’s “Someday,” letting the lyrics do the talking for me. Hoping she’ll have enough faith in me to give me the time I so desperately need in order to figure out how to make her stay.