Page 59 of Wildflower and Whiskey
“I’m coming with you,” he sounded insistent.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done, but you have an order coming at nine,” I reminded him gently. “Besides, I thought we agreed that we are going to live our lives as usual. I’m not going to let Colette or Riley think they’ve scared me.”
“You’re right.” He sighed, and I knew he didn’t like it. I saw the protest in the set of his jaw, the slight flare of his nostrils. But he bent, pressed a kiss to Braden’s soft hair, then to my forehead. “Call me the second you’re out.”
“I will.”
“Code word,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.
“Wildflower,” I said, and he nodded, satisfied as I buckled Braden into his car seat. This morning he insisted we come up with a code word if I was in trouble. I was staring at the kitchen table and remembered the wildflowers he left me on the table. I’d called him out on it and asked why he’d done it, and his answer was,I deserved pretty things. The man wasgoing to make my heart combust. That is how I decided on wildflower because for the first time in my life I was in a healthy relationship. It wasn’t me giving and my partner taking, we were equals. Although, I felt like Phoenix was helping me a lot more than I could help him.
A small devious smile tugged his lips. “Wildflower,” he repeated then he played with a strand of my hair, gave me a look that got my panties in a twist, and told me to be aware of my surroundings before he left on foot to the brewery.
I got into the car and drove with the radio off, the road to Birch Street strangely empty. The daycare lot was half-full, familiar sedans and SUVs in neat rows. I did a slow lap first, eyes skimming faces, cars, shadows. Nothing. No red paint. No lingering threat. Just windows and the faint sound of children, and all the while my heart beat like it wanted out.
At the door, I tilted my chin up to the camera and pressed the bell. The buzz. The click. The lemon cleaner, the soft scuff of tiny shoes, the bulletin board with hand-lettered notes about pajama day next Friday. Ms. Patty greeted me with her usual warmth, taking Braden from my arms. “Morning, sweetheart! Oh, look at those cheeks!”
I smiled, signing him in on the clipboard. “Only me for pickup again, please,” I added, my tone calm but deliberate.
Ms. Patty nodded, her smile dimming slightly. “Of course, Elyna. Only you.”
I crouched down to kiss Braden’s forehead. His hand reached for my hair, a soft fist closing on a lock, before he was carried toward circle time. I was about to leave when I noticed the woman behind the front desk. I hadn’t seen her before. Her blond hair was in a slicked back ponytail, her cardigan buttoned to the throat and she wore a visitor badge that caught the light.
“Elyna Chabot?” she asked.
“Yes?”
She smiled too brightly. “I’m Bernadette. I help with admin.” Her voice had that sugary tone people use when they’re about to say something you won’t like. “Do you have a second?”
“I’m running a little late for work,” I said. “Is there something wrong?” I knew all my payments were up to date.
“Oh, nothing wrong.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I just wanted to mention, I had coffee yesterday with Colette Jansen, Braden’s grandmother.”
Ice threaded through me. “You did?”
“Yes. Lovely woman. She seemed... upset. Said she hasn’t seen her grandson and doesn’t understand why. I just thought perhaps it might be worth a conversation about options. Grandparents can be such a source of stability.”
I stared at her. “Colette is not a source of stability,” I said evenly.
Bernadette’s eyes flickered. “I’m not taking sides, dear, but?—”
“You had coffee with her?” My voice sharpened. “Where?”
“Oh, the café on Maple,” she said, fidgeting now. “She mentioned she used to babysit Braden sometimes. She seemed quite fond of him.”
“She’s not on the pickup list for a reason,” I said. “If she or anyone else asks, you don’t confirm he’s enrolled here. You call me directly. Understood?”
Her mouth tightened, that artificial sweetness crumbling at the edges. “Of course. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“Good,” I said, keeping my tone polite, even though my pulse was pounding. “I’ll email you photos of her and of Riley Jansen. Neither are to come near the door. I want a password on file for pickup, usesunflower.”
Bernadette nodded quickly. “Yes, we can do that.”
“Thank you,” I said, because I’d been raised to say thank you, even when my heart was cracking.
I turned back toward the play area. Braden was on the carpet, tapping blocks together, utterly content. “I’ll be back at four,” I said softly. “Love you, baby.”
Then I stepped outside and finally breathed. The air felt colder now. I dug my phone from my coat pocket to text Phoenix.
