Page 134 of Pucked Up Plans
Despite clearing my head and purchasing flowers for myself, once we get home from school, my bitter mood returns. I didn’t see Walsh at pickup, which is a blessing and a curse. If possible, I miss him more. Probably because now I associate blossoms with Walsh. The torture is real.
Aubrey begs for mac and cheese for lunch—the kind from the box. I busy myself with tidying up my already neat kitchen while the water boils. As the timer goes off for the pasta, the doorbell rings.
“It’s Walsh,” Aubrey singsongs from her perch at the table.
I wish.
“I don’t think so, Bree. We talked about this, remember?”
I don’t blame her for being optimistic. Images of him run rampant through my mind all hours of the day, even though I “remember” he’s not around.
Aubrey shrugs and resumes coloring.
How long do these results freaking take?
Before going to answer the door, I dump the pasta and let it cool in the sink. Trudging slowly to the door, I throw it open casually, not at all prepared for what’s on the other side.
Lennon stands there, a huge grin on her face reaching her eyes so similar to her father’s. In her hands, she holds a bunch of flowers. And not just any kind, but my absolute favorite.
“Dahlias,” I breathe out. My eyes drift to the stairs, Walsh leaning against the railing, a little unsure, a lot sexy. Forcing my gaze away, I open the storm door and step outside onto the landing, addressing his daughter. “Hey, Lennon. How are you?”
She heaves the blooms at me. “These are for you. Please don’t be sad.” Her head tilts to the side, waiting for my reaction.
Unfortunately, I have no words. The fact she’s here, the flowers, her comment about not being sad anymore—it’s all-encompassing. Too much. Emotion overload.
I can’t let her know that.
Tears prick my eyes, but I hold them in. I speak around the knot in my throat. “Lennon, this is super sweet of you. These are my absolute favorites, and I love the yellow and orange. Did you pick these out yourself?” My nose sniffs the floral scent.
If possible, her excitement doubles with my compliment. “Yup. Keeley didn’t even have to pay. Are you less sad now?”
I nod, my eyes finding Walsh’s. A softness inhibits his gaze as he watches our interaction. My heart beats wildly, growing in size at how much love I have for this man. He’s not completely mine—I may have to share more of him soon—but I can’t possibly give him up. If the last ten or so days have proven anything, it’s that. I’ve missed him so much. Almost enough for me to say fuck waiting for the results.
No,my brain prods. You need to know. For peace of mind and how to move forward.
“Any results?” I voice in a whisper.
Walsh shakes his head sadly. A nod is all I can give him. He clears his throat. “Come on, Squirt. I’ve got to get you home because I have practice tonight.”
She snarks, “If I must.”
I can’t contain the heart-melting smile encroaching on my lips. “Thank you for the flowers, Lennon. I’m going to put them in water as soon as I go inside. They’ll be so pretty in my bedroom.”
She gives me no warning before throwing herself at my legs. “I love you, Tate,” she muffles out.
My heart about bursts at her declaration, at how she delivers it with so much affection, even subdued against my leg. As if she’s been holding it in for so long and couldn’t wait to unleash the sentiment into the universe.
“I love you, Lennon. So much,” I mutter in a whisper, bending down to give her a proper hug, cognizant of the flowers still in my hands. Tears threaten stronger this time, emotion swirling through, transferring from me to this little girl who makes my pretty great days even brighter.
Lennon pulls away first, a quick peck of her lips to my cheek. “See you soon. Keeley’s going to fix it. I just know it.” Without waiting for a response, she bounds down the stairs to her father. My eyes are misty when she fits her hand into his, the bond they share unbreakable. “I’m ready now. Thanks for driving me to bring Tate flowers. I love you, Keeley.”
“Back at ya, Squirt.” Walsh’s voice shakes. Maybe he’s not as worked up as I am, but he’s affected. His eyes find mine and at that moment, I’m certain everything will be fine. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to. “I’m crazy about you,” he mouths.
“Back at ya, Keeley,” I parrot his words, my audible voice scratchy. I can’t tear my eyes away as they walk hand in hand to his truck, Lennon jabbering away.
With one last wave and a kiss blown, Walsh climbs into his truck. Only then do I go back inside, clutching the flowers to my chest. A thoughtful gift from a compassionate child, one who holds a piece of my heart behind Aubrey and her father. Nodoubt in my mind, it was her idea to get these and drop them off. I can’t fault her for any of it. She’s just an innocent bystander caught in the crosshairs of a tricky adult situation.
On the way to the kitchen, I do my best to compose myself for Aubrey. I don’t want her to think something’s wrong. She’s seen enough of my emotions lately and taken her share of my anger and sadness. She doesn’t need any more.
