Spotlight: Chapter 14

The relief I feel at seeing Greer is palpable. She’s snuggled up in her bed, eyes closed. Her ever-present Bunny is next to her. So is the pink bouncy ball Flynn won for her.

Flynn. I think I thanked him for tonight and getting me here so quickly, but it’s a little bit of a blur. The second he pulled up, I was out of the truck and rushing to get to Greer. Flynn followed me up to the apartment and is talking with Sabrina and Archer in the kitchen as I look in on my daughter. The floor creaks as I step closer and her eyes open.

“Momma,” she says, voice scratchy, then she coughs.

“Oh, baby.” I move to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the back of my hand on her forehead. She’s warm and sticky.

“My throat hurts.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

She coughs again. Big, body-wracking sounds that make my heart hurt.

“I’m going to get you some medicine, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I’m in autopilot as I leave her room. I head to my bathroom in search of medicine. I find a nearly empty bottle of children’s Tylenol and some cough drops. I take them with me to the kitchen, then search in the cabinets.

“How can I help?” Sabrina asks. “What do you need?”

I stop my rummaging only long enough to give her an appreciative smile. “Nothing. I’ve got it. Thank you for looking after her.”

“Of course. I’m so sad she’s not feeling well. Do you think it’s strep?”

“I hope not, but I’ll probably make an appointment with the doctor tomorrow just in case.” I close another cabinet.

“What are you looking for?” Flynn asks.

I feel a flicker of disappointment about the way our date ended. We were having such a nice time and now he’s getting a good, hard look at what it’s really like to date a single mom. I doubt he’s going to ask me out again.

“I thought I had cough syrup, but I guess not,” I say.

“We can go get some,” Sabrina offers, and Archer nods his agreement.

“No. Really. You’ve done enough. I have Tylenol and I can Instacart anything else I need.”

No one looks like they’re going to budge.

“Go home before you’re all contaminated.” I step forward and hug Sabrina, then Archer.

“Hope she feels better,” Archer says.

“Text me if you need anything,” Sabrina adds.

I start to move toward Flynn to say goodbye to him too, but Greer calls out for me.

“Thank you, guys,” I say to them and lift a hand in a wave. I let my gaze linger on Flynn a little longer than the others before I turn to head back to Greer’s room.

Once I give her some Tylenol and crawl into bed beside her, Greer falls right asleep. I lie there, listening to her breathe and letting her sticky forehead rest against my arm.

I should get up and order some more medicine, maybe some food with it. My stomach growls. Slowly, I inch away from my daughter, careful not to wake her, then tiptoe out of her room. I leave the door open, only a crack, and let out a breath.

It feels like it’s been hours since I got home but a glance at the clock on the coffee pot says it’s only eight o’clock.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail and pad to the refrigerator to look for something to eat. I’m starving. The food at the skating rink seems like days ago.

I get lost in a flashback of Flynn grinning at me over a plate of nachos and then him holding out his hand to keep me upright on the skating rink. Not that I needed it, but it was still sweet.

A light knock at the front door pulls me from my thoughts, and I walk to it without giving much consideration to who might be on the other side. The last person I expect is Flynn.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him as he stands on the “hello” doormat with grocery bags in both hands.

“I thought you might need a few things,” he says as he walks into my apartment. He goes to the kitchen and sets the bags on the counter.

I stare after him dumbfounded.

“Who knew there were so many kinds of cough syrup?” Flynn must pull out a dozen different bottles of children’s cough syrup. Every brand, all the flavors and types.

“Did you buy out the store?” I ask.

“Too much?”

I laugh softly. “You didn’t need to do this. I could have ordered it.”

“I know. I wanted to, though. And I wasn’t ready for our date to end.” The sincerity in his words makes my heart flutter.

“There’s more,” he says, grinning. He reaches into another bag.

“More?” I ask, incredulously.

“Since the skating rink food was a bust, I stopped and got a few things.” The same way he filled the counter with medicine, he now adds a variety of take-out options. Tacos, noodles, salad, burgers, and pizza. “In case you’re hungry.”

“This is…”

“Yeah.” He rubs at the back of his neck and wears a sheepish grin. “Now that I’m seeing it all laid out, it looks borderline creepy.”

“It’s really nice,” I say as I step closer. “And thoughtful. Thank you.”

That cocky smirk returns.

“Dare I ask what’s in the last two bags?”

He pulls out two cartons of ice cream—Neapolitan and chocolate. And from the last bag, a stuffed horse wearing a Mustangs team jersey.

“A kid can never have too many toys, right?” He holds up the stuffed animal with a boyish smirk.

“You thought of everything.” I am in shock. And touched.

“How is she?”

“Sleeping for now.”

“How are you?” he asks as he comes around the kitchen counter.

My cheeks puff with a breath I let out slowly. “I hate it when she’s sick. I feel so helpless.”

He reaches out with both hands then rubs up and down my arms. “Anything I can do?”

“You mean aside from all that.” I tip my head toward the haul of medicine and food with a smile. “No, but thank you for asking.”

His hands drop away and instantly I wish he were still touching me. Not in a kind of way, just a reassuring, caress or hug. I’m too worried about Greer to think about sex.

“You should take half that food with you,” I say.

He gives me a strange look.

“There’s no scenario in which I’m going to be able to eat all that in the next day or two.”

“I’m staying,” he says and goes back into my kitchen, looking somehow at home and completely out of place in the small space.

“You are?” I ask, then add, “She might be contagious.”

“If she is, then you are, and I’m already screwed.”

“I’m not going to be much fun to hang out with.”

My basic plan for the night was to hover nearby, checking on Greer every few minutes to make sure she’s breathing, until I passed out on the couch.

“I know. Pretend I’m not here.”

“You want me to pretend you’re not here?” I repeat his words in the form of a question.

“Mhmm.”

“Unlikely.”

“Because I’m so handsome?” His playful side is back, and it relaxes some of the tension I’m holding.

Every scrape, bump, sickness leaves me emotionally wrung out. From the moment it happens until she’s back to feeling better, it consumes me. I don’t know if that’s healthy or not, but she’s depending on me, and that is a responsibility I don’t take lightly.

Instead of answering him, I smile and take a seat at one of the barstools in front of him.

He slides the take-out containers into a line in front of me. “What sounds good?”

I reach for the pizza box.

“Really?” he asks, grinning wide. “I had you pegged for a noodles or salad kind of woman.”

I flip open the box and the smell of cheese and bread wafts around me. My stomach growls.

“Plates?” he asks, looking around.

I direct him, and Flynn moves around my kitchen, getting plates and napkins. He even fills glasses with water. I can’t remember the last time someone not related to me did something simple for me, like serve me food.

He sits next to me, and we fall quiet while we eat pizza.

“When you said you were into gardening, I was imagining a yard filled with flowers and a little vegetable garden,” he notes as he reaches for a second slice. “This is cool though. You brought them indoors. It has a whole greenhouse vibe in here.”

I glance around, trying to see the apartment and greenery with fresh eyes. “I’d love to have a real garden someday, but for now this is more practical.”

“How’d you get into it?”

“My mom.”

“You’re close then?”

I nod.

“Does she live nearby?”

“Sort of.” I explain to him about the chef positions my parents took on a cruise ship and not being certain when or if they’ll come back.

“That’s awesome,” he says. “I’m sorry you don’t get to see them more though.”

“Yeah, I miss them, but they’re having a blast. How is it living near your brothers again?”

“Good, most of the time.” He gives me a half grin. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the shit out of them, but they can’t help but treat me like a kid no matter how old I get.”

I realize the more he talks that I hadn’t really opened myself up to getting to know him before and now I want to know it all.

“How so?” I ask.

“I’m not sure how much Archer or Sabrina has told you, but my mom passed away when I was eight. After that, my brothers raised me. Knox, mostly. Hendrick was off at college and Archer and Brogan were only a few years older than me.”

“I’m sorry. That had to have been hard.”

“Thanks.” He bobs his head.

“What about your dad?” I ask him.

“We’re pretty close, yeah.”

“Really?” I asked the question, but I thought I knew the answer.

“Yeah. Why? What’d you hear?”

“Sabrina mentioned in passing once that Archer’s relationship with him was strained.”

“It is,” Flynn admits. “I’m the only one that has much to do with him. Archer’s been making a little effort, but Knox and Hendrick have basically written him off.”

“Why?” I ask, then think better of it. “Sorry. None of my business.”

“It’s okay.” He takes a bite of pizza and then sets the slice down.

I wait in suspense while he chews and then takes a drink of water.

“He wasn’t around much when we were kids. He drove a truck all around the country, sort of popped in and out when he could. Then when our mom died, he stepped in to take care of us. Or he tried. Dad didn’t know how to handle us. He hadn’t really ever done any of the parenting, and we were all a wreck after losing mom. I’m sure we didn’t make it easy on him. Anyway, he stuck it out for a while, but eventually he took off again. After that, we managed on our own.”

“And you forgave him?” I don’t mean for it to come out full of accusation and skepticism, but as a parent it’s hard for me to imagine leaving my kids to fend for themselves.

“You sound just like my brothers.” Flynn smiles at me. I try to see past it for any hint that he’s covering up pain underneath it, but he seems genuine.

“I’m not saying I agree with it or that I don’t wish he’d been around, but I guess I’ve made peace with it. He screwed up and made a lot of bad choices over the years, but he’s still my dad. I’d rather have him in my life now and in the future than hold on to resentment for the past.”

“Wow.”

“You think I’m naïve or stupid for forgiving him and expecting him not to disappoint me again?” he asks, then adds, “Trust me, I’ve heard it all. And I get it, but the thing is I know what it was like not having a relationship with him. If it’s a risk, then it’s one I’m willing to make. People change.”

“I don’t think you’re naïve or stupid.”

“No?” he asks, brows lifting and a smirk pulling at his lips.

“It’s incredibly pragmatic and far more understanding than most people would be to someone who hurt them like that. I don’t know what that was like, but I’m not sure I could be as forgiving.” The more I think about it the less I think I could do the same. I stare down at my plate as I wonder about Greer. Will she resent her father one day for not being around more?

Flynn’s knee bumps against mine gently. “You okay?”

“I was thinking about Greer’s dad and what her relationship will be like as she gets older. Right now, she adores him, but she’s starting to realize that she sees him less than other kids see their dad. I don’t want her to feel like she’s missing out, you know?”

“She’s not missing out. She has the best mom possible.”

I laugh softly. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. She’s a dope kid and you’re amazing with her. It’s sexy.”

“It’s sexy?” A far heartier laugh bubbles up in my chest.

“Hell yes.”

I have no response to that. Zero. But I must be feeling better because my libido has entered the chat.

He leaves his leg resting against mine and we finish our food in silence. Is it weird that this is possibly the best date I’ve ever been on?

“I should go check on Greer,” I say as I push my plate away.

“Of course.” He stands and takes his plate and mine. “I’ve got cleanup.”

I stare at him a beat, watching him move around so comfortably in my space. When he realizes I’m sitting and staring at him, he tosses a wink over his shoulder. “Go check on your girl. I’ll have ice cream ready when you’re back.”

Who could say no to that?