Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
I'm not sure if she sees Rye as a permanent part of our lives or if it's just nice to see her dad smiling with someone.
"We have pancakes made from some leftover ice cream," Rye tells Frankie as she sets a plate before her. There's no syrup, but the cinnamon sugar butter Rye was able to whip up goes perfectly on top of the fluffy flapjacks.
"This is delicious," Frankie says between mouthfuls.
"Thank you," Rye smiles widely. "So Frankie, what do you think about making this a new ice cream flavor?"
Frankie's eyes open with joy. "How can we do that?"
"Well, we'd go back to the shop, but I'm thinking of a cinnamon sugar ice cream with soft, fluffy, fruity pancake chunks. We can call it Frankie's Favorite Flapjacks."
"Can we, really?" She grins goofily and beats the tabletop like a drummer full of excitement. “Can we add pancake syrup to it, too?"
Rye knits her brows together in thought before nodding slowly. "I think we can make a maple-flavored caramel swirl so it's thick enough to withstand sitting in ice cream. I think pure pancake syrup would freeze into sugar crystals, but that's why we would do this at the shop. We can try a few recipes and combinations until it's perfect."
I add, "While you two do that, I can meet up with Chase to get the car fixed. Maybe if everything isn't too soggy, we can head back out to finish our camping trip."
Frankie's delight softens, but then she perks back up. "Can Miss Rye come camping with us, Dad? You got that really big tent. There's plenty of room, right?"
"Well, that's up to her." I glance at Rye. My head gently sways from side to side, trying to silently tell her she doesn't have to come, but Rye looks excited to be invited. I'd be happy to have her.
"I don't want to crash your dad and daughter trip—" Rye starts.
Frankie cuts her off. "You're not crashing it. You're bringing fun ideas, and we can talk about a gazillion other flavors I have ideas about. I can't wait to go to school and tell everybody I have ice cream named after me."
I chuckle. "Oh, so that's code for you just wanting to turn her into your personal ice cream supplier."
"No," Frankie says right before shoveling another piece of food into her mouth. "She likes the same kind of movies I like, and she knows games we can play. You know games we can play as a family, right?"
Rye's on the spot but laughs it off with a slight tip of her head in the affirmative. "I sure do. I used to love playing UNO on our family game nights. It's been a long time since my family got together to do anything fun like that."
"Do you want to ask them to come too?" Frankie offers. "The tent really is insanely big. I saw it. It's like a small house."
"It's not that big," I say.
"It's big enough to have three bedrooms. This actual cabin doesn't even have three bedrooms, but the tent has three rooms and a family room," Frankie replies with a touch of snarkiness.
Rye laughs. "I'll come as long as there is plenty of room, and it sounds like there is. How about we plan a family game night? My dad and my sisters with their fellas, and you and your dad can come. We can do a taco bar for dinner."
"And an ice cream bar for dessert?" Frankie suggests with an aggressive wriggle of her eyebrows that brings laughter out of all of us.
By the time we finish breakfast, it feels like we're a family unit moving into a regular day. This is going fast, but there's something I trust about Rye that puts me at ease. Perhaps it's because Frankie's so easygoing around her.
My daughter's right on the money when it comes to people. Whether Frankie realizes it or not, she warms up to good people almost immediately. I'm happy to follow her lead.
As we set out for the day, Rye takes us into town. Thankfully, the storms didn’t cause too much damage. At least, that's what it looks like until we reach my car. There's some debris from fallen trees and loose trash that's been thrown about. The thing that stands out the most is the trash can-sized dent in the rear door of my car.
The levity in my mood sinks as I call Chase. He’s on his way while Frankie and Rye head into her ice cream shop. I can't stop walking around my car to see if there's any damage deeper than the dent in the door.
Once Chase arrives, he whistles as he walks around the car and runs his hand along its lines around the damage.
"You got knocked around pretty good," he says.
"Yeah, and that happened after we pulled over."