Page 33 of Kiss My Glass
“And what’s food and what’s not.”
“Seems a little haphazard,” says Frankie. “What if they eat something bad?”
“More likely to get eaten themselves,” I say. “Nature is pretty brutal.”
Frankie nods, and we sit and sip some more. I’m dying to ask her why she’s here but I know that’ll spoil whatever this is. I sense a vulnerability in her, but that’s for her to share when she’s ready.
Apart from a half-melted ice cube, my glass is empty. So is Frankie’s.
“Another?” I ask.
She makes a face. “Better not. I’m not used to spirits.”
“Cam and Ava took the beer cooler with them,” I tell her. “Even though Ava’s not supposed to be drinking, and Cam’s given up in support, Ava said it had ‘sentimental value’.”
“Abeercooler?”
“Apparently yet one more remarkable thing that Cam made by hand.”
I wince at how petty that sounds. The bourbon has loosened my tongue, and my insecurities are taking advantage.
Frankie’s laugh has a slight mocking tone. Fair, I guess.
But then she says, “Do you think Cam and your sister are happy together?”
“Uh … I assume so,” is my best answer. “Ava doesn’t exactly have a high tolerance level, so if she wasunhappy,I’m pretty sure she’d have left by now.”
Frankie nods again. I sense she’s working up to something, and a good salesperson knows how to stay quiet and not be tempted to fill the space. The more you yap, the less trustworthy you seem, and the more likely you’ll end up with a shitty deal.
Finally, she says, “I’m not sure why I came here.”
She doesn’t look at me, stays staring out into the woods. I wait.
“I pride myself on being able to keep my emotions in check,” she goes on, “because that’s what my job demands. But the instant I’m here at Flora Valley, it’s like I become an emotional blender, with every conceivable feeling churning around inside me. I hate it, and what I hate even more is that I’ve no idea what to do about it.”
“Oh, man,” I say. “I know how that feels. Away from home, you can kid yourself that you’re a grown-up who’s got it all under control. Soon as you’re back, you’re ten years old again, wondering what it will take to get your father to show you some love.”
Shit. I didn’t mean to say all of that out loud. Thanks, bourbon.
To cover my embarrassment, I change the subject. “We’d better get going. Nate and Shelby are expecting us for dinner.”
Frankie turns and looks me squarely in the eye.
“Or how about we make our excuses,” she says. “And go upstairs to your room?”
ChapterNineteen
FRANKIE
It’s like I’ve smacked Danny across the face. His mouth is moving but no sound’s coming out. Luckily, that gives me an opportunity to backtrack, or better still, act like it never happened.
“Come on.” I get to my feet. “Dinner time.”
“Frankie!” Danny leaps up so fast, he kicks his chair into the glade. “Shit!”
In the time it takes him to fetch and right it, I’ve placed my empty glass in the sink and am back out on the porch ready to go.
“Frankie.” His hair has fallen over his forehead, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Sorry for the possum in headlights act back there. You just … took me by surprise.”
