Chapter Text
Callie had been dreading college and its impending separation from Frank for years, but that didn't make it any easier to say goodbye to him the August after they graduated. She had known it wouldn't be easy to pick everything up and move somewhere new. It had been hard enough when she and her parents had left the city when she was fourteen. She might be older now, but that didn't make her eager to do it again—especially since she would be doing it alone this time. Her parents wouldn't be coming along; Frank wouldn't be coming along. She and Frank were both excellent students, but she was studying art, and he business and criminal justice. It was simply unrealistic to imagine that they would end up at the same school. But as much as she didn't like the idea of leaving, she couldn't stay in Baypart unless she wanted to attend the outreach branch of the local community college. No, she had to leave and venture into the world.
Frank ended up at a somewhat prestigious school in the city, while Callie packed her bags for a new city upstate. Although she considered herself lucky to have the chance to pursue art, she was far from excited to leave Bayport. In the short time she had lived there, she had put down roots; Bayport had become home. The people, places, and memories there were part of her, and leaving them behind made her feel like she was ripping her heart out.
Worst of all, though, was saying goodbye to Frank. Frank Hardy was simply her person. She considered herself lucky to have supportive parents and kind friends, but it was Frank who was truly hers. He was her person in a way that no one else had ever been before. She was his number one, and she could count on him to be there whatever she needed, whenever she needed it. Dependable and trustworthy simply were who he was as a person. She didn't have to worry that a day would come when he didn't feel like loving her because he had made up his mind and when Frank Hardy decided something, there was no turning back. She had found so much freedom in knowing that his love for her didn't depend on how successful she felt she was or how confident. He loved her for simply being Callie, and that he had explained to her was something that she simply could never not be. The quiet confidence of his acceptance had given her so much peace.
Maybe she and Frank had been very busy during the last two years of high school, but it was still nothing compared to the physical separation of college. He might have left before, but she had always known that he was coming back very soon. Even when she had feared for his safety, knowing he was coming back had comforted her while he was away. And there had always been his house to visit where she could feel close to him by spending time with the people he loved. Whether he was in town or away, Frank's presence filled Bayport. There was hardly a place she could go where she didn't have a memory of a moment in time they had spent there together, and she couldn't get away from the feeling that he was there because he was. Anytime she needed anything, he was only a ten minute drive away.
Now, she found herself in a new corner of the state with Frank many hours away. She couldn't stop by just because she needed to see him. No, any reunions had to be setup so far in advance so Frank ever the planner could make sure it fit his busy schedule. She supposed she understood. She was very busy with school, and he only had to be more so between his two majors and the Bayport cases he was still trying to take on the side. It made sense, but that didn't make it any easier to walk around with her heart in the city with Frank.
She cried herself to sleep too many nights to count that first month away. She missed Bayport, her old life, her friends, her parents, and most of all Frank. He wasn't there to pull her into his arms and tell her that she would be all right. Instead, she found herself diving head first into art—her one love at school. When she was in the zone focused on only the strokes of her brush or her pencil, she felt the sadness drift away as she was lost in a world where there was only art. She saw her skills improve and won the support of her professors who expressed their admiration of her work.
They both returned for the summer, and Callie had rediscovered what it meant to be simply Callie, not Callie the artist. With the support of both Iola and Frank, she had reconnected with who she was and found the things that she used to like to do. But the summer was over all too quickly, and Callie found herself heading back to school with a grieving heart. It wasn't as hard as first year—she knew what she was doing and what she wanted to get out of it. Still, she missed Bayport and Frank with an ache that she was sure would never quite go away.
Her hands were covered with the slimy grime of clay when she heard the Spanish guitar she was listening to stop and a buzzing sound take its place. Frank was calling. Although he was hesitant to get together without carefully made plans, he also made sure to keep in touch. They were constantly texting, and when he missed her too badly, he made sure to call. Callie didn't like talking on the phone. She found it was hard for her to communicate freely when she couldn't see the other person and watch their facial expressions. Frank understood and tried to do video calls when he could but sometimes particularly when he was traveling that was impossible. Callie had learned to be patient with him even when he called at bad times. He called her when he needed her, and the thought that she could be of help to him was a happy one.
Still, today was one of those times where she didn't feel like talking. The project for her sculpting class was due tomorrow, and she was still unhappy with what she had so far. Maybe making a sculpture of a person was hard, but it was still the sorriest excuse for Frank in the history of ever. Perhaps if she had chosen someone who was easier to make she would already be done, but as things stood she still had many hours of hard work ahead of her before she turned it in tomorrow. She was expecting that she wouldn't even have something deserving of a good grade by then.
She wiped her hands on a cloth she had on the table and took the call. If it were someone else, she wouldn't answer without checking a mirror, but this was Frank. He loved her regardless of how she looked on any particular day. Doubtless, he was calling because he needed something—perhaps just to talk to her, and she was determined to be cheerful.
"Hi," he said waving. He was seated at what Callie recognized as his desk and had the biggest smile on his face. "I missed you." His tone had the slightest hint of whininess. Frank wasn't a whiney person in general, but being separated from her brought out the worst in him.
"Missed you too, honey," Callie replied glancing at the corner of the screen that showed what her camera was picking up. She looked like a royal mess. There were little gray stains on her forehead, and her hair which she had sloppily pulled into a bun with a random pencil was falling out. She tried not to laugh at herself. "How are you doing?"
"Good. Busy, but I don't need to tell you that." He laughed. "But I dare say my afternoon hasn't been as exciting as yours. It's been lots of accounting homework...Have you ever considered taking up a career in sculpture? The clay suits you. It adds a nice...I think you call it highlight...to your face."
She laughed before getting serious. "I'm a little late for a career in sculpting. There are people who have been making sculptures since they were little kids."
"But you're really good," Frank insisted. He was always so positive, but what did he know about art? He might have taken an art history course, but that didn't make him a connoisseur. "Can I see what you're working on?"
"It's not exactly done," Callie explained. "I'm not sure you want to see it." She felt a little bashful. Not only was her work in progress bad, but it was also a bad likeness of Frank!
"I'm sure it's great. I'd love to see it."
She reached for the sculpture. "Okay. This is where I'm at." She turned it and showed it to the camera.
Frank's face immediately brightened. "You did one of me?"
"Your face was the natural choice."
"It looks great," he said. "I'll look forward to everyone asking about your muse. Just kidding!"
"Frank Hardy!" she scolded. "I thought I picked the brother who wasn't an egotistical snob."
"Hey," Frank replied. "Joe may have his egotistical moments, but he's not a snob." It always surprised Callie how much Frank came to Joe's aid. Maybe they were competitive, but they supported and loved each other no matter what. It was partly the relationship the two of them had and partly Frank being who he was—a kind, supportive person.
"Okay."
"The point is that the sculpture is great. I love it!"
Callie smiled momentarily. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don't like it, and I don't think my professor will either when she sees it tomorrow."
"Callie, you can't be so hard on yourself. If you think it's going to turn out badly, you won't be able to finish it. I think it looks great, and with a little more work, it's going to be amazing."
"I'm not a sculptor," she insisted. "I've only been doing this a couple months."
"But you're an artist, and you can't let imposter syndrome keep you from enjoying what you do."
She shook her head. "You don't understand. You're not an artist."
"And you're not a detective, but you're still an important part of my team." She laughed. Frank was right. Leave it to him to turn her argument around and make a point she could not argue with. "You have to start believing what I'm saying. You're good at what you do, Callie, and no feeling you have can make that not true."
She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and didn't know what to say.
Frank broke the silence. "I love you so much, and I'd totally give you a hug if I could." He stretched his arms out making Callie wish she could step into the screen and find her way to his arms. His love was such a comfort in every situation, and if she could feel it as well as hearing it, maybe it would soak in deeper.
"Love you too." After a moment's pause, she added, "Was there something you wanted to talk about? I'm needing to get back to homework soon."
Frank shook his head. "Not really. I just needed to see your face."
Callie laughed. "Well, you can check that off your list!"
"Maybe momentarily, but it's going right back on." He blew her a kiss. "Miss you, Callie."
"Miss you too!" she said before ending the call. They said absence made the heart grow fonder, and being away had made Frank if anything more affectionate. She had always known he loved her, but it had never been like this where he seemed visibly lost without her. She was so quick to be dismissive of whatever she did for him, what she brought to his life. But the truth was that they both needed each other, and their love was an anchor that kept them together and kept them from getting lost in the sea of life.