Instant Family. Donna Gartshore

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      Just before she reached him, a plump woman sporting a large name tag that proclaimed her as a Nature Center volunteer, stepped between them and said rather officiously, “Please don’t touch the displays, sir.”

      Ben’s father weaved his head a bit like he was trying to focus on a faraway noise, and then he gave the standing bear, with its ferocious grimace, a little pat.

      “I said don’t touch, sir!” the volunteer said more sharply. “Please step away!”

      Ben’s father looked confused and his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. Suddenly Frankie had that swell of feeling she sometimes got at the care home—the one when she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

      In another moment, though, any inclination to laugh was shoved aside abruptly.

      The volunteer reached out and clasped his forearm.

      Ben’s father’s eyes widened in shock and rage; his mouth flew open and a horrible cry came out of it. Then he shoved her with all of his might, causing her to lose her balance, stagger back a few steps and topple a display of pert-looking chipmunks.

      Even before she could get to her feet, the volunteer was fumbling for her phone as she threatened to call Security.

      Frankie’s eyes darted around and found Rae, who looked utterly stricken. She tried to smile reassuringly at her, but felt torn between going to soothe her daughter and staying to help Ben’s father.

      Rae would have to understand, Frankie told herself. If she saw her mother being strong and helping someone when it was the right thing to do, it would benefit both of them.

      The other patrons at the Nature Center had drifted awkwardly away from the scene, although, Frankie noted with wryness, they stayed close enough to see how things were going to unfold. She headed toward Ben’s father to offer assistance.

      “Dad!” Ben’s voice drew her attention. He hurried toward them with a look of relief seasoned with a dash of frustration.

      “Dad, I’m so glad you’re safe.” Temporarily unmindful of the chaos around him, Ben put his hands on his father’s shoulders and looked into his eyes before drawing him into a hug.

      His flare of violent temper gone, Ben’s father subsided into his son’s arms like a docile child.

      “I like animals,” he said softly.

      “I know you do, Dad. I know. But you have to wait for me to bring you here. You can’t just disappear on me.”

      While Ben spoke patiently to his father, Frankie watched a slight pulse at the corner of his eye that indicated how stressful the incident had been for him.

      “So, I assume you’re the one responsible for this—this gentleman?” The volunteer had struggled to her feet and directed her question to Ben.

      “He’s my father,” Ben replied. “Most folks know us around here,” he said, attempting to be friendly and smooth things over. “So, I take it you’re new? How long have—”

      “Well, I suggest you keep him under control,” she said, “before he hurts someone else.”

      “He didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ben said. “He’s just...”

      “He’s crazy is what he is!”

      Something flared in Frankie and she stepped forward.

      “These gentlemen happen to be very good friends of mine,” she declared. “And I can assure you that he’s about the furthest thing from crazy that you could ever want! Perhaps you need to work on how you approach your visitors so that you don’t offend them.”

      She looked at Ben, whose befuddled expression would have made her giggle under different circumstances. Obviously, nothing in their brief acquaintance would have prepared him for the declaration that they were close friends. Fortunately, the volunteer’s focus wasn’t on him at the moment.

      “Let’s go,” Frankie said to Ben and his father, who clung to his son’s hand and studied his feet. “Come on, Rae, we’re going back to the cabins.”

      Rae chewed her lip, a sign that she was very puzzled. But she took her mother’s hand and the four of them left together.

      Once outside, Ben held his father by the hand and hurried up beside Frankie and murmured, “I suppose I should say thank you, but would you mind telling me what that was all about?”

      “I work with seniors,” she said, “and I knew your dad needed help. Besides, I hate labels like that.”

      “Like ‘crazy’?”

      She nodded.

      They walked together for a little while, not saying anything.

      Frankie took in the eclectic shops ranging from a hairdresser to a sporting-goods store to a small art gallery. She loved the smell of the air and seeing the tall pine trees.

      “My dad used to be a minister,” Ben offered quietly. “He was one of the kindest, wisest men you’d ever want to meet.” Sadness and another expression that Frankie couldn’t quite decipher flickered across his face.

      Ben’s father had let go of his hand and walked beside Rae, slightly in front of them. “I’m Al,” Frankie heard him tell Rae. “Who are you?”

      Frankie wasn’t sure how Rae would react, both because of the unusual situation and because she had become much more reticent since her dad had left. But she just looked shyly up at Al and shuffled her feet a bit. “I’m Rae,” she told him.

      The two of them continued to stroll together in what looked like a compatible silence.

      Rae was an intuitive little girl, and she could probably sense that Al didn’t mean any harm, despite what she had seen at the Nature Center.

      She also noticed Ben’s stiff shoulders loosen slightly. His handsome face no longer looked as agitated as it had, but still wore deep shadows of the devastating kind of fatigue she knew could overcome long-term caregivers: the kind of fatigue people had when they knew things would only get worse.

      “What about your mother?” Frankie asked. “Do you have any brothers or sisters to help out?” She avoided asking him why he hadn’t placed his father in permanent care. She knew that the decision to do so was very complex, colored by each family’s experiences and emotions.

      She also wasn’t going to ask if he was married and why his wife wasn’t with him if he was. It was none of her business and she certainly didn’t care. She had noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring, but these days that didn’t mean anything.

      “Mom died two years ago,” Ben said. “Ovarian cancer.”

      “I’m so sorry. It’s horrible watching someone go through that.”

      “I was away,” Ben said tersely, in a tone that clearly indicated he wanted no further questions. He reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead. Frankie found herself wondering why she’d never been attracted to a man with light hair before. Trevor’s hair had been dark.

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