Camp Lost and Found, page 23
And then she was kissing her, and the whole we should just cuddle tonight idea vanished into the ether like steam. Cassidy kissed her softly at first, and she shifted her body so she lay fully on Frankie’s. Frankie opened her legs to make room for Cassidy’s hips, as she’d done multiple times in the past two weeks. They fit together like they were made to, like they’d been built just for that. Frankie slid her hands up the back of Cassidy’s shirt, reveling in the indescribable softness of her skin. Seriously, how could one woman be this soft? It was otherworldly. Her hands trailed up to Cassidy’s shoulders, and then she thought, to hell with it, and pulled the shirt up and off. And then Cassidy was topless. She pushed herself up to her knees, straddling Frankie, her breasts on display, and Frankie felt a surge of wetness between her legs because sweet baby Jesus, was there anything in the world sexier to look at than a topless Cassidy, straddling her hips, bathed in moonlight?
No. The answer to that question was a resounding no, and Frankie let her eyes feast for a moment before reaching up and cupping both breasts in her hands.
“Cassidy,” she whispered, and Cassidy looked down at her, and their eyes locked and held.
“Francesca,” Cassidy whispered back, then leaned forward and crushed her mouth to Frankie’s.
The rest was a melding. Of mouths. Of bodies. And if anybody asked Frankie, she’d have said of souls as well. She’d never connected to anybody the way she did to Cassidy. Last night, there’d been a strange feeling. A desperation of sorts. But tonight, there was nothing but connection. Melding was absolutely the perfect word. There were times where she had no idea where she ended and Cassidy began. There were times when she had no idea what Cassidy was doing to her, where she was touching her or with what. All she knew was that, in that moment, it was her and Cassidy and their hearts and their souls and that was all that mattered.
The rest could wait.
And it did. For a while. They made love well into the night, stopping only briefly for air or water before they slid back into that blending of bodies. Cassidy had to get on the road early to make her flight, but Frankie didn’t care, and Cassidy didn’t seem to either. They stayed up, stayed touching and kissing and thrusting and stroking until the sky began to morph from inky black to burgeoning indigo. Frankie fell asleep not long after Cassidy’s breathing had gone deep and even as she lay in her arms, but only out of necessity. Her brain was a whirlwind, but her body was wrung out, and her eyes drifted closed while the sky was still deep purple, and the house was silent.
The next morning was harder than Frankie expected it to be, and she got the impression it was the same for Cassidy. Neither of them said much as Cassidy packed her things and hauled her bags down the steps and outside and into the rental.
Frankie approached her with a cup of coffee, and they stood there, side by side in front of the big picture window, and sipped their coffee silently, watching the woods. Frankie had filled the feeders while Cassidy was upstairs, and now the cardinals and chickadees and sparrows were chirping up a storm as they ate, joined by the squirrels and an occasional chipmunk on the ground.
Cassidy leaned against Frankie. Frankie put an arm around her, and if they could’ve stood like that, just like that, touching and quiet and content for the rest of time, she’d have been perfectly okay with that.
But they couldn’t.
She felt Cassidy stir and knew she was about to speak before she even took a breath.
“I should probably get going.”
Such a simple statement. How could five words slice her heart open? How was that even possible?
But she didn’t say that, didn’t ask the question. Instead, she nodded and removed her arm from Cassidy’s shoulder. Cassidy turned to face her, then set her mug on the windowsill and did the same with Frankie’s. Then she took both Frankie’s hands in hers, held them, and looked deep into her eyes. Frankie swore she could feel it inside, touching her heart, her soul. Her eyes welled up before she even thought they might.
“Please take care of yourself, Francesca.” Her voice was soft, just above a whisper, and Frankie wondered if it was because she was afraid it would break if she spoke louder. She cleared her throat and gave Frankie’s hands a small shake. “Don’t make me worry.”
She nodded. It was all she could do because she was now afraid her voice would break if she spoke.
“I had no idea what to expect when I came here. I wasn’t even sure if it was the right place for me to be, but you helped me see that it was. Thank you for that. You were unexpected.” And before Frankie could respond—which she couldn’t because the lump in her throat was baseball sized—she pushed up onto her toes, pulled Frankie’s head down, and kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. And when she lowered back down, a small sound left her lips, a combination whimper and cry, and then she turned without another word and left the house.
Frankie stood in the doorway and watched her get into her car, start the engine, plug in her phone. The air was brisk. Cold. She didn’t care. She stood there, no coat, hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and watched as the most amazing thing that had happened to her in a very, very long time put her SUV into gear and drove away.
Only then did she let the tears flow and the sob burst from her throat, and she shouted her pain into the air.
It echoed back to her.
Chapter Twenty-two
Cassidy didn’t even realize she’d been daydreaming until the rap at her open door startled her enough to make her flinch. She glanced up to see Brittany, her admin, standing in her doorway and looking apologetic.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Cassidy waved her off. “No worries. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to remind you that you have a call with Kevin Hooper from Target at two, and I emailed you the reports you asked for. And…” She crossed the office to Cassidy’s desk and set down a grande-sized cup. “I went to Starbucks on my break and got you a latte. You seem so sad lately—I wanted to do something to cheer you up.”
Cassidy felt that goddamn lump clog her throat. Again. The same one that had been showing up on a regular basis for over a week now. She swallowed twice, trying to find her voice, and when she didn’t, Brittany frowned.
“I’m sorry. Did I overstep? I overstepped.” She waved a hand. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry. I—”
“Brittany.” There it was. She did have a voice after all. Now, how about a smile? Or at least a small grin? Could she manage that for this poor girl who was just trying to be kind? She focused on fixing her face and knew she’d found it when Brittany visibly relaxed. “It’s okay. Stop worrying.” She gestured to the latte. “This was really nice of you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She backed toward the door and gave her a shrug. “You’re just usually so happy and…well, it’s hard to see you this down. I hope you feel better soon.”
And she was gone.
Thank fucking God because she was worried she might start crying right there as she sat at her desk. It wouldn’t be the first time since her return ten days ago. And yeah, the CEO crying in her office was a great morale booster for the office. Stellar. She shook her head, picked up the latte, and took a sip. Vanilla with a pump of caramel. Just the way she liked it. Brittany paid attention. She jotted herself a note to give the girl a raise next quarter.
She had ten more minutes until her call with Target. The old Cassidy would’ve used that precious time to get one more thing done, to cram in one more call or answer as many emails as possible. The new Cassidy? The one who’d been changed on a mountain in the snow? She preferred to stare out the window. The sun had never made her angry before. Not once. The moment she’d moved to San Diego and had begun to experience its absolutely perfect weather, she’d fallen in love with the sun. Its daily appearance. Its perfect seventy-two-degree temperature. What wasn’t to love about that? But now? Now, she longed for snow. And crisp fresh winter air. The crunch under her feet. The crackling of a fireplace. Thick, warm socks—she’d kept the pair Frankie had lent her and wore them every night, despite her apartment being a perfect seventy degrees.
And Frankie.
She worried about Frankie. All the damn time. She’d known she would but didn’t expect to at this level, pretty much every minute of every day. She’d texted. She’d waited a few days, not wanting to jump right in, wanting to get herself home and settled and take some time to let her brain decompress from the whirlwind that was late November–early December for her.
Frankie hadn’t answered.
If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t all that surprised. Frankie was in a place only she could get herself out of. But she had to want out, and Cassidy honestly wasn’t sure if she did.
Still.
She missed her.
She picked up her phone and typed out a quick text before she could second-guess herself.
Thinking of you…
Simple. Honest. She hit Send.
“Cassidy?” Brittany’s voice broke through her thoughts through the speaker on her office phone. “Kevin Hooper from Target on three.”
“Okay, thanks.” She inhaled deeply. Slowly. Let it out. Then she gave herself a shake, hoping to shove thoughts of Frankie into a corner for now so she could focus on her job. She picked up the phone and forced some cheer into her voice.
“Kevin, hi, how’s the weather in Minneapolis today?”
* * *
The days were a little duller now.
That’s how Frankie looked at things now that Cassidy had gone home. And that was how Frankie needed to force herself to look at things: Cassidy hadn’t left. She’d gone home. There was a difference.
Didn’t feel like one, though, really.
That first night in bed without her had been brutal. And how was that even fucking possible? It’s not like she’d been sharing a bed with Cassidy for years. Or even months. It had been days. She didn’t understand what had happened to her. How she could have grown so used to somebody’s presence in her life after such a short time? Especially given how isolated she’d made herself, and yes, she knew that right there could be the argument. That she’d isolated herself and when somebody else had come along, she’d clung to them. But she didn’t think that was it. No, she knew that wasn’t it. She was a reasonably intelligent woman, and she was completely aware that she’d started to fall for Cassidy Clarke, and that she had no idea what to do with.
Not that it hadn’t rattled around in her brain since the second Cassidy had left. Not that she wasn’t supremely irritated at her stupid self for not saying something—anything—to Cassidy about it before she’d gotten into her car and driven away. Not that Cassidy wasn’t texting her on and off to see how she was doing.
Not that she’d answered.
And why hadn’t she? Why was she being rude?
Before she could drive herself even more bananas with those questions, the back door burst open, and Reiko came blowing into the kitchen with the winter wind.
“Hey,” she said, unzipping her coat and sliding it off, but leaving her hat on, per usual.
“Hey.” Frankie had to stop stirring the hot chocolate she was making and think about what day it was, and when she realized it was indeed a weekend, she tucked away her Why Aren’t You in School speech. “What’s up?” She automatically got the milk and added more to the pan, along with cocoa and vanilla, so there was enough for both of them.
“Ugh,” Reiko said and infused it with the weight of the world as only a twelve-year-old could do. “My mom is such a bitch.”
Frankie snapped her head around. “Watch it. I know you two struggle, but she’s your mom, and it’s not cool that you talk about her like that.”
“Why not? She drives me crazy. She thinks she needs to be my mother and my father, and it’s so…intrusive.”
“And have you talked to her about it? Or do you just yell at her?” Frankie kept her voice calm, which was a feat, given how badly she wanted to stick up for Eden.
“Ugh, all she wants to do is talk. Like, can’t we just be quiet sometimes? It’s why I come up here.”
“You come up here to run away from your problems, let’s be honest. You can’t keep doing that. It’s not healthy.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Frankie blinked.
Well, shit.
She stopped stirring but kept her eyes on the pan. Seriously, Universe? A twelve-year-old? That’s how we’re doing this?
“Yeah, well.” Honestly, what could she say? The kid wasn’t wrong. In fact, she was much righter than Frankie cared to admit. Like, she was exactly right. And for the first time, Frankie made herself stop and think about that.
Giving herself a shake, she refocused on the hot cocoa and poured it into cups. Then she sat with Reiko in silence for a long moment. They blew on their drinks and sipped in tandem, like they’d been choreographed.
Finally, Frankie cleared her throat. “I want you to do something for me.”
Reiko met her eyes, and Frankie was startled to see in them a flash of both a child and a wise adult. It was an interesting glimpse of who Reiko would be when she was grown. Frankie didn’t know why or how she could see that, but she could. Reiko gave a wary nod.
“I want you to cut your mom some slack.”
Reiko sighed. Loudly. The child.
“Listen, she lost your dad, too. Right? And she’s your mom and she’s worried about you. That’s what moms do. They worry about their kids. All the time. Forever.”
“Does your mom worry about you being up here all by yourself?”
“Endlessly. Yes.”
“Do you cut her some slack?”
A good question and far too wise a one for a kid to ask. “Probably not like I should.”
“I will if you will.” Reiko blinked her big brown eyes at Frankie and waited.
“Deal.” Frankie held up her pinkie and Reiko curled hers around it.
Later that day, after Reiko had gone home on the promise that she would give Eden more of a chance than she had been, Frankie’s mind went in all different directions. More snow was forecast, so she chopped up more wood and toyed with the idea of dragging her mattress back out into the living room in an attempt to recapture some of the feeling of when Cassidy had been there. She made a big pot of chili, heavy with beans and ground beef, and a pan of cornbread to go with it. The only way to keep from constantly thinking about Cassidy, how much she missed her, and how she really should respond to her texts because she was being fucking rude by not doing so, was to stay busy.
She filled up a plastic bowl with chili, a smaller one with plain burger, wrapped half the pan of cornbread in some foil, and headed out to Jack’s place. The walk there, the conversation, the walk back—that would kill much of her day. Tomorrow, she’d start on painting the upstairs rooms Ethan Lustenfeld had asked her to in his last call.
The day was brisk. Overcast and cold. The snow hadn’t begun yet, so the path through the woods to Jack’s place wasn’t as hard to walk as it had been last time. She trudged along, catching a couple deer in the process of searching for food. The sky was a light gray, not heavy with precipitation yet, but Frankie could smell that it was on its way. Something Jack had taught her in her second week there—what the snow smelled like when it was still hanging in the air. Crisp and fresh and wet. She smiled as she walked along.
It didn’t occur to her until she could see Jack’s cabin that Duke hadn’t come barking out to greet her like usual. Maybe they were eating inside. Food always won first place in Duke’s list of things he paid attention to, thus the bowl of ground beef she was carrying.
At his front door, she stomped the snow off her boots and knocked. “Jack? It’s Frankie. I brought you some dinner.”
Silence.
Okay, maybe he was out for a walk or hunting or something. She glanced around, but the only fresh footprints in the snow seemed to be hers. She knocked again. “Jack?”
And that’s when she heard it. The soft, low, gentle whine. Duke.
Her heart rate kicked up because she knew something was wrong, and she grabbed the door handle and let herself in.
She’d only been inside a few times. She and Jack tended to have their chats outside among the trees, so Duke could run around. She’d forgotten how very small the place was. Basically, one big square. Jack’s bedroom and living room were one and the same, and he lay on his back on the twin bed, unmoving. Duke was curled up next to him, his doggie chin on Jack’s chest. Which was not rising and falling.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
It was very clear he was gone, but she checked for a pulse anyway. Nothing. His eyes were slightly open, his lips parted, the pallor of his skin that dull gray that said no blood was flowing beneath it. He was under a blanket, as if he’d been asleep, and she wondered if he’d gone that way. In his sleep. She hoped so. “Oh, Jack.”
She stood there for a moment, allowing herself time to get her bearings because, hello? She’d never discovered a dead body before. Poor Duke looked heartbroken as he lay there with his master, and she wondered how long they’d been like this. He would have to come back with her. She pulled out her phone and was unsurprised to see she had zero reception.
She pursed her lips and blew out a slow breath, and then her eyes welled up and she knew she needed to take a minute, that Jack deserved to have somebody mourn him. She let the tears track silently down her cheeks as she glanced around. She paused on a framed photograph she had never noticed on the mantel of his small fireplace. It was clearly a young Jack, clean-shaven and with his arms around two boys that looked much too much like him to not be his sons. Jack had kids? A family? And yet chose to live out here in the wilderness all alone? Where he subsequently died alone?
