Page 27 of Sparks with the Single Dad

We make our plates and settle back into our seats.

“So how’s the café doing?” I ask after taking a sip of my drink. “Frank handling everything okay?”

“For sure. He’s just doing what he’s always done. I manage social media, and that’s what brings the business in. But I don’t have to do much in the store. We may hire another barista soon to keep up, though. I’m not the best at that.”

“You can hire me, Mom.” Chance emerges from the pool and grabs the towel Phoebe left on the railing for him before wrapping it around himself. “Now I’m starving.”

Phoebe sets her cup onto the table. “Let me help you so you don’t drip all over the food.” She winces as her back scrapes the chair.

“Oh no,” I admonish her. “I’ll get it. You need to take it easy with that back.” I follow Chance over to the table and heap it up with everything he points out, then he joins us back at the table.

The sliding door opens and Kyler appears. “Hey, I’m going to make Ashley a plate and take it to her. She’s tired.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she just needs some rest. And the baby’s asleep,” she adds, probably knowing that was my next question. “You all enjoy the evening.”

She makes their plates quickly and heads back inside, and as the sun sets, we fall into an easy conversation, Chance talking about a new Pokémon video game and how he’s going to try out for football at school this year.

“Hopefully I can live here all the time now,” he says as he forks potato salad into his mouth.

“Oh.”

I glance at Phoebe, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth as her eyes widen at Chance’s words. This is evidently news to her.

“I mean, if Mom is okay with it,” Chance adds. Perhaps he realized how quiet she was when he said that.

Chance’s face contorts into a sad expression when Phoebe still doesn’t answer, but then she drops her fork and wraps her arms around him. “Oh, Chance. Of course you can stay here full-time. Whatever you want, you know that.”

The moment between them is beautiful, but in the back of my mind, all I can think of is Greg’s behavior last night. He doesn’t seem to be the type to give up easily.

SEVENTEEN

ONE CUP WON’T HURT

I’ve been dreading it, but it’s time to talk to Greg. In hindsight, I probably should have had this conversation with him before promising Chance that he could stay with me all the time. But it is what it is, and maybe it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. I sit cross-legged on the couch after I make sure Chance is asleep. I don’t want him to overhear anything and misconstrue things or get upset. Enough has been going on.

Me: Hey, can you talk now?

My phone rings almost immediately after he opens the message, and when Greg’s name pops up on the screen, something in my chest shifts—a dread.

“Hey,” I finally answer.

“How is he?” He skips any greeting, and I’m sure he’s not happy I haven’t called.

“He’s fine. We’ve talked, and he has extra chores because he ran away.”

“Oh, good. He shouldn’t have fucking done that. Scared me to death.”

“I’m sure it did. I think he was upset.”

“Yeah, he was whining and shit. I just…” Greg huffs. “I guess I should have dealt better, though.”

“Well, I wanted to tell you—”

“When summer’s over and he comes back, I’ll do better with him.”

“That’s what I was calling about. He says he wants to stay here full-time.”

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