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The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

Page 90

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The waitress came back by and we placed our orders.

When she left, Frank crossed his hands on the table and asked, “You said you’re on a road trip, do you mind if I asked where you’re headed?”

“California,” Willow answered readily.

“Why California?”

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “To see my cousin.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “that’s better than what I thought.”

“What did you think?” Willow asked curiously.

He shrugged. “I thought maybe you were headed to L.A. to try to make a break in acting or something. That place can ruin a person.”

“You speak as if you have experience,” I piped in, raising a brow.

Frank nodded and cleared his throat. “My daughter…she wanted to be an actress. She did theater all through school and she was good…real good, but apparently not good enough. She moved to L.A. and was there no time. She was never the same after. That place broke her spirit.”

Willow frowned. “That’s awful.”

Frank grunted in agreement. “Yeah, that’s why I asked about you. I’d hate for the same thing to happen to you. Or you.” He lifted his glass of water in my direction.

“What does your daughter do now?” Willow asked, and I knew she really wanted to know where she was, since Frank was obviously so lonely.

“Gone too soon, I’m afraid. Car accident.”

“Oh.” Willow sucked in a lungful of air. “That’s awful.”

Frank’s lips thinned until they completely disappeared. “Just me now.”

Willow’s face crumpled a bit and she reached across the table to rest her hand on top of his. Hers was so much smaller, and smoother, while his was large and mottled with age spots. He flipped his hand over and grasped hers.

“You’re never alone, Frank,” Willow spoke softly and I knew she was fighting her emotions, “not anymore, at least.”

Frank’s cloudy blue eyes filled with tears and he squeezed her hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

They held hands for a moment longer, sharing a silent moment of understanding.

I lifted my phone inconspicuously and took a picture. I knew Willow would be thankful to have it later.

People like Frank reminded us all how quickly the things we took for granted could be taken away from us. Appreciate everything and you lose nothing.

Frank released her hand and Willow pulled it back into her lap.

She lifted her head and looked at me.

So much was said in that one single glance—how thankful she was for this trip, for this moment, for me.

Our food was brought out and as we ate Frank asked us about our jobs and families. Despite losing his own, he seemed eager to hear about all the crazy people we called family.

When our plates were empty and the table was cleared Frank tried to pay for our meal.

I refused.

He’d been kind to us, and we were the lucky ones for getting to have dinner with him.

“I’ve got this,” I insisted, laying cash on the table.



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