There are moments in life that provide startling clarity. For Frankie, that lucidity always came after the fact. She’d realized she didn’t want to marry Robert after saying yes. She’d accepted that she didn’t want a journalism degree after she’d registered. She’d moved to Minnesota trying to find her purpose when she’d known from the minute she’d seen them hiding in her closet with their wide eyes and big attitudes that she’d found it. Them. And as Ryan pulled her forward, she swallowed down the lump in her throat that formed from not verbalizing her choice sooner. She wanted them. They weren’t strays, as Ryan had joked, but she wanted to keep them.
She stumbled over her own feet. Ryan steadied her and continued to pull her forward, his hand wrapped tight around hers. A police cruiser and Cameron’s car were parked in Ryan’s circular driveway. Cam was speaking to one of the officers and saw them, stalked toward them, gesturing to the officers to follow.
“Ryan. Frankie,” he said as he approached. One officer, the shorter of the two, held his hands on his hips and stopped in front of them.
“You the owners of the house?” he asked. He was stocky, reminding Frankie of a tree trunk.
“I am. Frankie lives next door. I’m Ryan Walker. What’s going on?”
“Ryan Walker. The baseball player? No shit. I thought that was just a rumor,” the other cop, said, stepping closer. She felt Ryan’s hand twitch, tightening in frustration.
“What’s going on officers? Cam?” Cam looked at Frankie and Ryan’s linked hands and frowned at her.
“I came by to speak with Ryan. The lights were all on. I could hear the TV blaring but no one answered when I knocked. So I walked around back. You should consider window coverings. There are three people in your house. I called the police.” He shrugged like that hadn’t been an overreaction. Ryan’s grip on her hand became almost painful.
“When we knocked, a young man came toward the door, but when he saw us, he turned around and went back toward the living area,” Officer Stocky continued. Frankie stopped herself from barreling up the steps and telling the boys to let her in. Ryan’s teeth were clenched and he stared at Cam with unveiled contempt.
“I have three guests and you call the fucking cops?” He shook his head. “This is a misunderstanding. Really.” His voice was calm and even.
“So you know the boys in your house?” The police officer that recognized Ryan looked doubtful.
“I absolutely do. They have permission to be in my home. It seems our fine mayor here overreacted,” Ryan said. His voice was no longer smooth, but sharp. Pointed. Cam blustered and started to speak, but Frankie cut him off.
“It seems a little dramatic to call the police because you don’t recognize Ryan’s houseguests,” she said, anger fraying her patience. It wasn’t Cameron’s fault, she reminded herself. They lived in a neighborhood where people watched out for others. Hadn’t Ryan come to her aid when he’d thought Carter was hurting her?
“Actually, I did recognize one of them. Or think I do. It’s the boy who was in your garage that day, Ryan. Perhaps I overreacted but, as I told you, I know a lot of people around here. I’ve never seen him and all of a sudden he’s in your house and you’re nowhere to be found,” Cam answered. He held his shoulders stiff but Frankie could see he was looking for a way to come out of this and not look stupid. Or better, to come out looking like a hero.
“Fact is, ma’am,” Officer Stocky said, a weak drawl in his tone, “there have been several break-ins in the last few months. We’re being overly cautious so the mayor was right to call in his suspicions. We’d like to speak to your guests.” Frankie swore Cam’s chest puffed out and she had the urge to deflate him like a balloon.
“Why? Why do you need to talk to them? Good lord. People can’t have guests at their home in this part of the state without a police interrogation?” Frankie’s voice spiked and she tried to breathe through the panic gathering in her chest, in her ears. Ryan squeezed her hand again.
“Is that really necessary?” Ryan asked.
“It is. We came out here and since I’ll have to file the paperwork, I’d like to be thorough and dismiss any notion that these boys were somewhere they shouldn’t have been,” replied short and stocky. Frankie breathed through her nose and forced herself to calm down as they walked to the house, Cameron and the officers trailing behind them. Ryan unlocked the door and then looked at her, his eyes capturing hers and holding her still.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered. When they entered the foyer, Miles came running and then slid to a halt when he saw the police officers behind her and Ryan.
“Uh-oh,” he said, looking back and forth between the adults. Carter and Travis hurried in behind him and also came to an abrupt stop. Ryan closed the door but pleased Frankie by not suggesting they go farther into the house. In and out.
“It’s okay, Miles. This is our neighbor, Cameron. He’s a friend of mine and Ryan’s,” Frankie said, the word “friend” catching in her throat, nearly gagging her. “He thought you guys weren’t allowed to be here so he called the police. It’s just a misunderstanding.” She reached out and Miles stepped forward, yawned, and wrapped his arms around her middle. She felt the hug all the way through and that clarity slapped her in the face again. Her heart beat against her rib cage. Travis and Carter said nothing but they looked at Frankie and she could read them well enough to see their fear.
“How you doing tonight, boys?” Officer Stocky asked. His voice was pleasant, but firm. The boys shrugged, but the cop didn’t seem deterred. “I’m Officer Mantez and this is Officer Barns. What movie did you guys watch?”
Frankie appreciated his indirect approach at getting the boys to talk but her and Ryan still shared a worried glance.
“We watched X-Men,” Miles volunteered, smiling up at all of them. Officer Mantez gave a chuckle at his enthusiasm.
“I haven’t seen that one yet. Was it good?” he asked. Miles nodded and Frankie saw that the cop knew he had found his talker. He leaned down a little.
“You guys are friends with this guy?” He hooked a thumb at Ryan and then glanced at the older boys. Miles nodded again, his grin wide and innocent.
“Yeah. Ryan is our friend. Frankie too. Carter says they needed time alone to make out and stuff but you guys missed a really good movie. Maybe we could watch it again, huh Trav?” Miles said quickly. He looked around at all of them for affirmation.
Frankie closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them she’d find herself in her bed still, Ryan wrapped around her. Cam made a sound of disgust but shut up when Frankie sent him a furious glance, even as her neck flushed. Ryan smothered a half-groan, half-laugh. The officer squatted down so he was on Miles’s level.
“Where do you live, bud?” he asked. Miles looked up at Frankie and then back at his brothers.
Frankie’s heart stopped, just froze in her chest like a glacier. “They’re staying with me,” Frankie said. Ryan put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and she bit her lip.
“You their guardian?” Officer Barns asked. She wanted to lie. She wanted to yell at Cam, at the officers. They had no right to be here. The glacier cracked with the harsh, vibrating thump of her heart. Ice spread through her limbs. She had no rights to them. Hindsight; she should have taken care of the legalities. She should have done all the things she’d been meaning to do.
“No. They just stay with me.” It sounded worse when she said it out loud but it made sense when she looked at them.
Cam stepped forward, ignoring Ryan’s half-growl in his direction. “Okay. So who is their guardian?”
“We ain’t got one. I’m almost eighteen and I can take care of my brothers. Frankie’s been letting us stay with her, that’s all,” Carter answered, stepping closer to Travis.
“Almost eighteen isn’t the same as eighteen, son. Where are your parents?”
Frankie’s respect for Officer Mantez doubled when he used an unhurried, easygoing tone with Carter. She could hear his empathy and she hoped that the boys recognized it for what it was. The radio in both cops’ pockets crackled and a female voice came through, unclear and muffled but both officers nodded. Barns said they were finishing up at the previous call. Frankie looked at Ryan and saw that his mouth was set in a firm line. None of the boys spoke so Frankie did.
“Their parents died. They were staying with my aunt before she passed away and now they’re staying with me.”
“Protocol says we have to take them into the station and have family services come in,” Officer Mantez said, his eyes kind and his voice soft. Frankie’s own eyes filled with tears. She looked at Cameron.
“Cameron. Please.”
“What can I do, Frankie? Why didn’t you tell me about this? I’d expect something like this from him,” he said, pointing at Ryan, “lying and hiding things. That’s a way of life where he’s from. But not you.”
She pushed down her own fury at Cameron’s words but she couldn’t keep the resentful tone out of her voice. “This isn’t about Ryan, who you obviously don’t know well. This is about three boys who will get lost in the system.”
“I can’t usurp the law, Frankie. Had you come to me, I could have helped funnel things in a more agreeable direction.”
“Call Leslie. Please.”
Cam pulled Frankie by the sleeve of her shirt closer to the door, and complained in a loud whisper, “If I call that woman, she’s going to trap me into a date.”
“Oh for God’s sake. Suck it up,” she said loudly. She didn’t even care that she’d said something cliché. “Call her and ask for help.”
He looked at the boys, who had sidled closer to Ryan, his eyes settling on Miles.
“You owe me.”
Ryan practically growled the words, “Like hell she owes you anything.”
“You said hell,” Miles said. Frankie bit the inside of her cheek and focused on the pain her teeth caused as they bit into flesh. Cameron pulled out his phone, stepped outside, and closed the door behind him.