by Ali Parker
It surprised me how much better I felt after talking to Leslie. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like an insecure mess anymore. I was no longer dreading my date with Ryan. I was actually looking forward to it.
Which is why my stomach filled with dread when I saw his name blinking across my phone a few hours later.
“Hello?” I asked nervously, placing the phone against my ear.
“Hey, Candice.” Ryan’s voice was tight. “You’re totally gonna hate me, but I have to cancel our date tonight.”
Closing my eyes, my head fell into my free hand. All the confidence I’d just gained back was zapped. I felt like a teenager again, seconds away from being stood up at my senior prom.
“Oh.” I cleared my voice and tried to sound normal. “Is everything okay?”
“Paisley’s sick,” Ryan said. “I just picked her up from school, and she has a pretty high fever. I just don’t think I can leave her tonight.”
“Oh, no.” My angst turned immediately into concern. “Can I help? I’d love to bring over some soup or something, whatever she needs.”
Ryan paused. I prepared myself for him to say no. It was probably just an excuse anyway, just a way to get out of seeing me.
“That would be amazing,” he said, making my mouth fall open. “When can you get here?”
Chapter 19
Ryan
Paisley’s glassy eyes blinked heavily, falling closed and then barely flicking open again. Each time her green irises fell on my face, my stomach twisted. No matter how many times it happened, I always hated to see Paisley sick.
I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know you don’t feel good, Pea, but the Tylenol should start working soon.”
“Okay.” Paisley coughed and rolled onto her side. Her eyes fell closed, and this time, they didn’t open again.
Breathing softly, I tiptoed across the room and stepped into the hall. With a long exhale, I shook my head and made my way downstairs. I would hear Paisley the second she woke up, but I still kept the baby monitor in my hand until I reached the living room. Just as I placed it on the coffee table, a loud knock echoed through the house.
I hurried across the room and pulled the door open. Candice smiled and held up a bag of groceries. Pressing my finger to my lips, I stepped back and waved her inside.
“The kitchen is this way.” I led the way, taking the bag from Candice as we walked.
“How’s she feeling?” Candice asked, her brown eyes dark with worry.
Shrugging, I unpacked the groceries. Candice brought over cans of chicken noodle soup, a loaf of bread, cheese, Sprite, and saltine crackers.
“You thought of everything,” I said, holding up a bag of cough drops buried at the bottom of the bag.
“I didn’t know what was wrong,” Candice said. “So I planned for all contingencies. I thought about grabbing a box of popsicles, but some parents are crazy strict about sugar.”
I laughed. “Not me. My brother always tells me I should watch her diet, but I mean, she’s a kid. Why not let her be a kid?”
“Exactly.” Candice grinned.
“But,” I said, “I do make sure she gets a good breakfast every morning. I figure it’s a fair trade-off, right?”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
Candice’s smile was enough to distract me from my concern. Our eyes met across the kitchen and time seemed to freeze. I didn’t look away until a pair of soft footsteps snapped me back to reality.
“Daddy?”
I whipped my head around to see Paisley standing in the walkway between the kitchen and the living room. Wondering why I didn’t hear her sooner, my eyes fell on the baby monitor still sitting on the coffee table.
“Hey, Pea.” I scooped her up in my arms. “What are you doing out of bed? Why didn’t you call me?”
Paisley laid her hand on my shoulder. “I’m hungry.”
“Well.” Candice clapped her hands together softly. “You’re in luck, kiddo, because we have a smorgasbord of food just for you.”
“What’s a smorgasbord?” Paisley asked, her head popping up. “And who are you?”
Candice froze. Her eyes flicked nervously to my face. Waiting for me to answer, Paisley twisted in my arms to stare.
“Daddy?” she asked.
“This is my friend,” I said quickly. “Her name is Candice. She came over to help me take care of you.”
“Oh.” Paisley looked back at Candice. “Hi. I’m Paisley, and I’m four.”
Candice chuckled and stepped forward. “It’s nice to meet you, Paisley. I’m Candice, and I’m thirty-one.”
“Wow.” Paisley’s eyes widened. “That’s really old.”
“Paisley,” I warned, but Candice just laughed and moved to the counter.
“Chicken noodle soup?” she asked, holding up a can. “Or grilled cheese?”
Paisley pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Both,” she finally said.
“Coming right up.” Candice smiled.
“I got it.” I put Paisley on her feet. Protesting, she held her arms up and whined to be held.
Candice looked at Paisley pointedly. “She needs you,” Candice said kindly. “You two go snuggle on the couch. Bundle up. Put on a movie. I’ll make her some food and meet you in there.”
“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly. “You don’t have to …”
“I’m here to help, remember?”
Paisley tugged on my arm, and I knew I didn’t have a choice. Sighing, I mouthed a silent “thank you” to Candice and lifted Paisley back into my arms. She nuzzled her head under my chin, not moving until I put her down on the couch.
“What movie do you want to watch?” I asked.
“Frozen, please.” Paisley leaned to the side to rest her head on a pillow.
“Coming right up.”
I put on the movie and wrapped Paisley in a blanket. When I touched her forehead, her skin was on fire.
“Your fever isn’t going down,” I mumbled nervously. Hurrying to get the thermometer, I stuck it under Paisley’s tongue and waited. “101.4. Dammit.”
“That’s a bad word, Daddy.”
“I know, Pea. I’m sorry.”
Before I could say anything else, Candice stepped into the living room carrying a bowl in one hand and a small plate in the other.
“Here you go.” She set them on the coffee table and brushed her hand gently over Paisley’s hair. “What do you want to drink, little one? Water? Sprite?”
“Juice, please.”
Candice looked at me questioningly.
“It’s in the fridge,” I said.
When she returned with a glass of juice, my head was spinning. My hand kept fluttering to Paisley’s forehead, even though I knew the result would still be the same. The Tylenol wasn’t doing a thing for her fever.
“What’s wrong?” Candice asked, noticing my face.
“Her fever is still really high.” I waved my hand over the thermometer. “It won’t go down.”
Candice’s forehead creased. “When was the last time she had Tylenol?”
“About an hour ago.”
“Hm.” Candice disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with an ice pack in one hand and a thick towel in the other.
“Will that work?” I asked nervously.
Candice nodded, shooting me a reassuring smile as she wrapped the towel around the ice pack.
“Hey, Paisley.” Candice bent down beside the couch. Paisley’s tired eyes turned to her. “This is going to help make your fever go away, okay?”
“What is it?” Paisley asked.
“Just something cold,” Candice said, her voice calm. “Can you lift your head? I’ll just tuck it under your neck, okay?”
Paisley nodded and sat up an inch. Candice tucked the ice pack under her and helped her settle back down. Brushing Paisley’s hair off her face, Candice smiled and stood up. She pulled the blanket tightly around Paisley’s tin
y body and then moved to sit down beside the TV.
“Wait.” Paisley popped up quickly. “Sit with me. Here.”
Candice glanced at me. “Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Paisley smiled weakly. “You’re nice. I think we should be friends.”
Laughing softly, Candice moved to sit beside Paisley. She rested her hand gently on Paisley’s hip as they settled in to watch the movie together.
I had a hard time tearing my eyes away. Every time Paisley needed something, Candice jumped. She helped Paisley eat her soup and grilled cheese, she held a straw to Paisley’s lips when she wanted juice, and she constantly ran her fingers over Paisley’s cheek to check her temperature.
When her fever finally broke, Paisley’s eyes became so heavy, she could barely hold them open.
“Come on, Pea,” I said, pulling the blanket off her. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Can Candice do it?” Paisley asked.
“Uh.” I glanced at Candice and raised my eyebrows. She nodded and stepped forward. “Sure, Pea.”
“Come on, little one.” Candice lifted Paisley into her arms and carried her upstairs. I could hear her footsteps as she reached Paisley’s room.
Soft murmuring echoed down the stairs, but I couldn’t make out the words. I sat down on the couch, too surprised to do anything else.
A few minutes later, Candice reappeared. My eyes popped up and followed her as she moved down the last few steps and walked over to join me. She plopped down on the couch with a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, her head snapping around to face me. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”
“Are you kidding? You were amazing with her.”
Candice blinked. “Really?”
“Yes. Really. Are you sure you don’t have kids?”
“I think I would remember if I did.” Candice’s lips twitched upward.
“Paisley loves you already.” I grinned and slid closer. “I don’t think anyone has ever taken care of her like that. Besides me and Max, I mean.”
“She’s adorable.” Candice yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “God, I’m tired.”
“Work again?” I asked.
Candice nodded. Shaking her head, she sat up straighter and cleared her throat. Her eyes widened as she tried to wake herself up.
“I should probably get going,” she said, glancing at the door. “I just wanted to lend a hand, but now that Paisley’s asleep …”
“Are you hungry?” I blurted out. Candice frowned but didn’t answer. “After all your help, it’s the least I can do.”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”
“Come on.”
I got to my feet and turned to Candice. Holding my hand out, I grinned and waited. She put her fingers in my palm. I pulled her up and held her hand until we reached the kitchen.
She sat down on the closest chair and watched as I threw together a half-ass dinner. It wasn’t anything special, but I wanted to do something nice for her.
“You don’t have to do this,” Candice said.
“There aren’t many women who are willing to spend their Friday night taking care of a sick four-year-old,” I said without turning around. “You’re amazing, Candice. Let me say thank you, okay?”
I couldn’t see it, but I could feel Candice smile from across the room.
We ate slowly, talking and laughing the whole time. By the time we finished, it was late, and Candice’s eyes kept darting to the door.
It shocked me just how much I wanted her to stay. It wasn’t about sex. Sex was the furthest thing from my mind as I thought about my sick daughter asleep upstairs. But every time Candice’s eyes met mine, my stomach pulled tight, and I knew I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“Come sit with me,” I said, standing up quickly. “Leave the plates. I’ll do the dishes later.”
“Sure.” Candice smiled and followed me into the living room.
We sat on the couch, my arm moving instinctively over her shoulder. She nestled in beside me, and I flicked on the TV.
I had no idea what we were watching, but I didn’t care. Candice’s scent wafted through the air around us. I leaned my head down and placed a gentle kiss on her temple, breathing her in.
“What was that for?” she asked sleepily.
“Taking care of Paisley,” I whispered.
Candice mumbled something incoherent. When I looked down, I saw that her eyes were already closed. Laughing to myself, I held her tighter and leaned my head back against the couch cushions.
A few hours later, I woke with a start. My heart pumped against my ribcage as my eyes darted frantically around the living room.
For a second, I wondered if it was Paisley who had woken me, but the baby monitor was silent on the coffee table. Exhaling sharply, relief washed over me. I closed my eyes again and moved closer to Candice.
Rubbing my hand over my face, I woke myself just enough to know we couldn’t stay on the couch all night. I didn’t want to answer Paisley’s questions if she happened to wake up and see us. With a sigh, I gently pulled my arm away from Candice and stood up. I lifted her gently into my arms and carried her upstairs to my bedroom.
Her brown hair fanned out over my pillow, filling me with emotions I hadn’t felt in years. I thought about lying down beside her, spending the whole night with her wrapped in my arms.
But I soon thought better of it. I pulled the door closed behind me and stepped back into the hall, tiptoeing my way downstairs to curl up on the couch.
Chapter 20
Candice
My eyes blinked open, squinting against the bright morning sun. Light streamed through the window, no curtains to block it. I rubbed my hands over my face and sat up. When I finally adjusted to the light, I looked around the room nervously, unsure of where I was.
The last thing I remembered was sitting with Ryan on his couch. His arm was around me. His lips pressed gently against my temple. After that, my memories faded into nothing.
I was exhausted last night, too exhausted to keep my eyes open. I realized too late that I must have fallen asleep on the couch, which meant Ryan brought me upstairs to his bed. Fear flooded my stomach as I jumped up and scanned my eyes over my body.
My clothes were still on. I breathed a sigh of relief and slapped my hand to my forehead. Chuckling shakily, I caught my breath and slowly made my way to the door.
I felt guilty for thinking Ryan would take advantage of me, but I couldn’t be too careful. After all, we’d only gone out a few times, and already, I’d unwittingly found my way to his bed.
Leslie would be proud. I laughed to myself and stepped into the hall.
The bathroom was directly across from me, Paisley’s room to the right. Glancing inside, I saw that Paisley was still fast asleep and tucked beneath her covers. I smiled and moved to the stairs.
Each step seemed to echo loudly through the small house. I worried that I might wake Paisley, but I was more curious as to where Ryan had slept.
When I reached the living room, my eyes fell on his sleeping form pressed cozily against the couch. Smiling to myself, I inched across the room and slipped silently into the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee and leaned against the counter.
It was strange. This was the first time I’d ever visited Ryan’s house, and already, I was comfortable here.
Ryan and Paisley lived just outside the city. The bustling noises of Manhattan didn’t reach their little home like they did my apartment. I found the silence oddly comforting if only in its distinct unfamiliarity.
The coffee finished brewing. Turning to the cabinets, I searched for a mug. Before I could find one, tiny footsteps drew my attention back to the living room.
“Good morning,” I said to Paisley as she stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. Her eyes were hazy, her hair falling wildly over her face. “How do you feel?”
Paisley yawned and climbed onto a chair. “I feel better,” she said. “Mostly just
sleepy now. And hungry.”
“I think we can fix that.” I grinned and abandoned my search for a mug. Sliding over to the fridge, I pulled it open and hummed thoughtfully. “What does your dad usually make you for breakfast?”
“Pop-Tarts!”
Frowning, I turned to face her. She blinked at me innocently. I remembered Ryan’s words from the night before.
I do make sure she gets a good breakfast every morning.
Crossing my arms, I inched closer to the kitchen table. Paisley watched me, her eyes wide and full of childlike naivete.
“Really?” I said, dragging out the word for effect. “Are you sure?”
“Um.” Paisley blinked. Blushing, she shook her head. “No. He makes me eat eggs and bacon and stuff.”
“I knew it!” I threw my head back dramatically. “Nice try, kiddo.”
Paisley snickered and jumped off her chair. Hurrying over, she looked up at me with questioning eyes. It was the first time I’d noticed just how much she looked like Ryan. Paisley’s hair was much darker, but their eyes were the exact same shape and color.
“Can I help?” Paisley asked.
“Sure.” I shrugged and led the way back to the fridge. Together, we pulled out a carton of eggs, a packet of bacon, butter, and fruit.
Paisley stood on a stool and helped me crack the eggs. I got lost in the routine as we whisked the eggs and poured them into a pan. Paisley laughed when I waved the spatula around with a flourish, just like my father always did when I was a kid.
“What does your dad like to eat?” I asked.
“Bacon.” Paisley rolled her eyes. “He says his morning can only start after he’s had some bacon.”
“It’s true,” a voice said from the living room. “Bacon is life.”
I jumped and spun around. Ryan was sitting up, peering over the back of the couch with red eyes. He rubbed his hand through his dirty blond hair and stood up. My stomach tied itself in knots as he came into the kitchen.
For the first time, I wondered whether I should have just left when I woke up. Maybe Ryan only let me stay out of pity. Or, maybe he just felt awkward that I’d fallen asleep, so he put me to bed hoping I would leave first thing in the morning.