Page 66 of One and Only

Josie’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You didn’t help?”

I tilted my head toward Greer. “She wouldn’t let me.”

Greer smiled. “I’m a little bit stubborn.”

Josie wound her arm through Greer’s as they preceded me up the stairs. “I think you’d have to be if you’re married to him,” she said.

Greer burst out laughing.

At the top of the steps, Olive practically bounced in place, her hand on the doorknob as she waited for us.

“Go ahead,” Greer told her.

Olive sucked in a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Josie gasped, hand covering her mouth immediately. “Greer,” she exhaled quietly.

Olive walked slowly into the room, her eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them, her mouth hanging open.

Three of the walls were a soft pink color, and covering the wall behind the bed was a bold pattern of pink and white and coral flowers.

Fluffy white bedding and some fuzzy pastel pink pillows in a lighter shade than the wall covered the bed. There was a big scoop-shaped reading chair with a small circular table and a tall gold lamp next to it.

On the opposite wall from the bed was a long sleek white desk, neatly organized clear bins filled with colored pencils and crayons and markers. And like it was growing out of the wall was a graceful arch of big white, lace-winged butterflies flying toward the windows overlooking the backyard. Right in the middle of the flight path of all the white wings was a canvas print of the picture I showed Greer, so it looked like all the delicate flying creatures surrounded Olive.

My eyes darted to Greer, who was wringing her hands in the wake of our collective stunned silence.

“It’s incredible,” I told her, voice hoarse with emotion.

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief but then moved her gaze back to my daughter, who still spun in a slow circle like she could hardly take everything in.

“How did youdoall this?” Josie asked.

Greer looked around the room with a pleased smile. “Some great vendors who owed me favors and a lot of priority shipping.”

“This is mine?” Olive said. Her voice trembled, and her eyes were glossy with tears.

“Yeah, sweet pea,” I told her. My chest was tight, heavy from the unexpected wall of emotion. “Greer did this for you. She’s been working on it all week.”

Josie wrapped her arm around mine, and I heard her emit a quiet sniffle.

Greer crouched next to Olive, and I could tell in the twitch of her hands that she wanted to set her hand on my daughter’s back, but she didn’t.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

Olive didn’t answer. She let out a shaky exhale, then turned to Greer, throwing her arms around her neck in a tight hug. Then she nodded into Greer’s neck.

“You gave me butterflies,” she said.

My eyes burned when a tear slid down Greer’s face unchecked. She carefully returned the embrace and let out a huge, shoulder-dropping exhale. “I did.”

A new sort of awareness slid underneath the space in my chest, unfurling warm and slow.

It was so much more dangerous than lust.

Far more explosive than thoughts about legs and arching backs and short shorts.

I’d chosen right, I reminded myself.

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