by Nancy Naigle
She confirmed the dates for each of the guests and then transferred the information to the paper planner she still used as a backup to the online system. There was something about those clouds of data that always left her wary that something might go wrong.
Angie’s voice rang out down the hall. “We’re here!” And then a flurry of running footsteps followed. Billy appeared in the doorway of her office—out of breath and grinning.
“Hey, buddy!” Flynn rose from her chair.
Billy raced across the room and flung himself around her waist before she stood up. “Hi, Aunt Flynn. Are you fixing me macaroni and cheese for dinner tonight?”
“Of course I am. How else does a girl get to be the favorite aunt?”
“Yay!” Billy dropped to the floor and turned to face his mom. “I told you she’d make it for me.”
Angie shrugged. “You’ve got to quit spoiling him.”
“No I don’t. That’s what good aunts and grandparents were made for. To spoil wonderful children.”
“Great,” Angie said.
The front door slammed shut and Billy jerked to a halt. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, no!” Flynn pretended to be afraid, but only for a half beat. “It’s probably Ford.”
Billy’s eyes popped open wide, and then he skedaddled from the room.
Angie leaned back and peeked out into the hall. “Did I just hear Ford tell Billy that he’s hanging out with y’all tonight?”
“Probably. He asked me out to dinner, but I told him I had plans. So he sort of invited himself. He’s bringing dessert. It’ll be fine.”
“Really now?” Her lips pursed. “So tell me. Would you have gone out with him?”
“I guess.” Flynn felt like it was a trick question. “It’s not like it would have been a date date. He said he wanted to take me to Bella’s.”
“Really?” That smirk of hers spread across her face. “Only nice place in town. I think he likes you.”
“Stop it. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to stay at the dorm at the gallery.”
Angie didn’t look convinced. “He’s super sweet.”
“I know, but remember it was you who gave me the advice to just cool it for a while.”
“Hey, what are you two girls whispering about in here?” Ford asked.
“We’re talking about you,” Angie said.
Flynn swatted her arm.
“I know better than to ask more.” Ford chuckled. “I’m going to run upstairs and jump in the shower and change. Can I help you with dinner?”
“Nope. I’ve got that under control. We’ll be in the kitchen or out back on the patio when you’re done.”
“Sounds good. You and Jackson have a fun night, Angie.” He vanished up the stairs.
“Thanks, Ford.”
Flynn waited until she heard the door close upstairs. “See. Just friends.” Flynn hoped that would appease Angie. “What are you and Jackson going to do tonight?”
“I wanted to just stay home and order pizza, but he wants to go bowling.”
“You’ll have a good time.” It didn’t sound exactly like the kind of date you needed a sitter to have. Not like you can’t take your kid bowling with you. “Maybe he’s just trying to surprise you.”
“Maybe. He seemed pretty excited about it.” Angie let out a sigh. “I’ll have fun once we get there. It’ll be nice to have an adult night no matter what.”
“Yeah. That’s the way to look at it.”
They went into the kitchen.
Billy sat with the flash cards spread out in front of him. “I see you found one of the surprises I got for you,” Flynn said.
“I can do some of these,” he said with pride.
“Show me.”
He held up the card that showed 5 + 1. “This is six.”
“Great, Billy,” Angie said. “He’s been working really hard on his numbers.”
“That’s impressive,” Flynn said. “Now, you’d better get out of here so you can look pretty for your big date tonight.”
“I’m out of here.” Angie turned to Billy and held her arms open wide. “Give Momma some hugs, and you be good for your Aunt Flynn.”
“I will,” he said.
Shortly thereafter, Ford walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a T-shirt, hair still damp. “Hey, Billy! What’s up, bud? Mind if I hang with y’all tonight?”
Billy ran over and high-fived Ford. “Cool!”
“Y’all have fun,” Angie said. “I’ll pick Billy up at seven thirty in the morning to drive him to school.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Flynn said.
Billy sat down at the table. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, kiddo.”
Flynn sprinkled shredded cheese over the macaroni and cheese she’d just made, and then slid the whole casserole dish into the oven to brown the top. She turned up the burner under the cast-iron skillet and started cooking the chicken tenders.
“I could get used to this southern cooking, but I’m afraid I’m not going to fit into any of my pants by the time I get back home.” Ford pushed out his stomach and rubbed it, making Billy burst into a fit of giggles. “Didn’t stop me from bringing dessert home, though.”
“What’s for dessert?” Billy asked.
“It’s a surprise. And no one gets any unless all of our dinner plates are cleared.”
“No problem there. I love Aunt Flynn’s dinners,” Billy said. “I’ll have room for dessert.”
Flynn flipped the chicken in the hot grease. “While I’m cooking, go check out the living room. There are a few other toys I picked out for you, Billy.”
Billy got out of his chair. “Come on, Ford.” He swung his arm in a big circle and ran out of the room.
She got a kick out of the loud hoot and holler she heard when Billy saw the trucks. If there was one sure way to make that kid happy it was with trucks.
Billy came back in the kitchen schlepping all three of the trucks in his arms, one hanging at an odd angle as if it might fall.
“He wouldn’t let me carry one.” Ford had his lip hanging in an exaggerated pout.
“Are you pouting?”
“Maybe,” he said, poking his lip out even further.
“You have to share with Ford, Billy,” Flynn said, flashing Ford a teasing grin.
“Can we play out on the patio until dinnertime?”
“You can play out there and I’ll bring dinner out as soon as it’s done. We can have a picnic. Does that sound like a good plan?”
“Yes!” Billy wobbled off, trying to hold the third truck up off the ground, then stopped. “You can carry one, Ford.” His lips pulled into a straight line as he looked down at all three of the trucks. “You can play with the Ford truck, since it’s named after you.”
“Thanks, man.” Ford reached for the blue truck and followed Billy outside.
The sound of Billy and Ford sputtering like diesel engines outside made her laugh. One of them made a crashing sound. And darn if that hadn’t sounded like a cow mooing. Boys.
She turned off the stove and filled a basket with chicken tenders, then stacked three paper plates on top of the basket to carry out. The mac ’n’ cheese emerged browned to perfection when she slid it on the counter. While it cooled a bit, she went upstairs and got a king-sized sheet out of the linen closet to use as a picnic cloth.
She went out on the patio and opened the sheet, giving it a parachute lift and then straightened it out on the ground. The guys never even noticed her. “Looks like y’all are having fun.”
“Monster truck races,” Billy said. “I’m winning.”
“I went off the track,” Ford confessed. “But I didn’t know the patio was out of bounds.”
Billy pushed his lips together and made a skidding noise as he pushed his truck past Ford’s. “I just lapped you!”
“I thought we were on a time-out,” Ford argued.
“No way,” Billy said.
“You’re
going down,” Flynn teased. “Dinner’s ready. Give me a minute and I’ll get everything out here.”
“Need any help?”
“No, you two play. I’ve got this.” It took her three trips to get everything out to the porch, but as soon as the picnic was ready, Billy ordered Ford to “park the trucks.”
“This is my favorite dinner.” Billy picked up a chicken tender and bit into it.
Ford made a plate, heaping a spoonful of macaroni and cheese on his plate and snagging two chicken tenders. “I think this just became my favorite dinner too, Billy.”
That kid had an appetite. She never had any trouble getting him to eat when he stayed with her. There were only a couple of chicken strips left when they were done. Ford had enjoyed seconds and thirds.
“You’re the best cook in the world, not counting Mom.”
“Thank you. That’s the best compliment in the world.” Flynn gathered the leftovers and Billy carried in the tray with the plates and plasticware on it. “Thank you for helping clean up.”
“You’re welcome, Aunt Flynn.”
She ruffled his hair. That ticking clock always went crazy when she got to spend time with Billy. She ached for one of her own.
When she went back outside, it was just starting to get dark, and the first thing she noticed was that the guys hadn’t folded up the sheet like she’d expected they would. Instead, they’d draped it over the clothesline to make an A-frame tent, anchoring it to the ground with some rocks.
Ford had taken the portable fire pit from the patio out to the yard and built a small fire about six feet away from the tent.
“What are y’all up to?”
“Camping,” Billy announced. He flung himself on the ground with his head sticking out one end of the makeshift tent. “I’m going to watch for stars.”
“I’m not much of a camper,” Flynn said. “The ground is hard. Why don’t we get the big cushion off of the double chaise lounge from the screened-in porch. We can lie on that.”
“Can we?” Billy jumped to his feet.
“Sure.”
Ford followed Billy to the porch and carried the cushion while Billy trailed him carrying a couple of the smaller chair pillows.
“We’re going to be comfy cozy,” Billy said, a million-dollar smile on his face tonight.
Ford pushed the cushion into place under the big sheet, scooting the rocks. The breadth of the cushion helped push the tent sides wider and hold its shape. “You gonna sleep over with us, Flynn?” He gave her an exaggerated wink. “Pretty please with cherries on top?”
Billy crawled inside. “This is so cool. It’s like a tree house on the ground.” He lay on his back, crossing his feet and putting his hands behind his head. “This is the life.”
Ford sprawled out next to the tent and laid his head on the soft mattress. “It is pretty comfortable. Only thing that would make it better is if you’d start belly dancing and waving palm leaves over me,” he teased Flynn.
“Don’t get any bright ideas. I’m not feeding you grapes, no matter what you say.”
“I knew I should have gotten fruit for dessert.”
Billy scrambled to the edge of the tent, peeking out the end toward Flynn. “Flynn usually makes cookies for our treat.”
“I was in charge of dessert tonight,” Ford said. “Tonight we’re doing manly stuff.”
“Excuse me,” Flynn said. “Cookies are manly.”
“Okay, they are, but this will be just as good. Maybe even better.” He got to his feet. “You’ll see,” he said. “My dessert is going to be great.”
Billy folded his arms. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll see.”
“Can I get just a little bro-code faith from my amigo here? I’m trying to impress this girl,” he said to Billy.
Billy slapped his hands over his mouth, holding back a swirl of laughter, but Flynn wasn’t laughing. Her insides tumbled. She let the comment hang, not wanting to read too much into it.
Ford went inside and came out with a brown paper sack and three wire hangers.
“Store-bought.” Billy rolled his eyes.
“How old are you?” Ford dropped the bag on the ground and started untwisting the hangers, straightening them into three long wires.
“Seven.”
“I don’t think I knew the difference between store-bought and homemade when I was seven.” He pulled a bag of marshmallows out of the sack and threaded three on each wire hanger. “I might not be able to tell the difference now.”
He handed the bag to Flynn. “Will you divvy up the graham crackers?”
“Sure.”
“And that guy,” he said pointing to Billy, “can unwrap the chocolate bars.”
“Yes!” Billy fist pumped and did a little two-step. “I’ll do quality control.”
“You’ve been around Jackson too long.” Ford pointed his two fingers toward Billy and then to his own eyes and back again. “I’m watching you.”
Billy unwrapped the candy bars and set them on the plate next to the graham crackers Flynn was breaking in half. “I’m watching you back,” Billy said.
Ford armed them each with a wire hanger. “Have you done this before?”
The boy shook his head. “No. Mom makes s’mores in the microwave.”
“That’s just so wrong. Okay, come stand right here next to me.” He clicked his fingers toward Flynn. “You too, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl? She felt as gooey inside as one of those marshmallows. She shuffled up next to him and held her hanger out like a fishing pole in front of her.
“Nice technique,” he teased.
“I’ve melted a marshmallow or two over the years.”
Billy mimicked them, hovering his marshmallows over the fire a safe distance.
Flynn’s marshmallows caught on fire.
“Yours are ruined,” Billy yelled out.
“No way. This is how they get the gooiest.” She pulled her wire in—the marshmallows black and crispy.
Ford wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her blow out the flame. “Good job,” he said squeezing her.
“Thanks.” When he stood that close, it was all she could do to keep her own gooey center in control.
“I’m not eating those ones.” Billy pulled his lips into a Billy Idol sneer.
“More for me.” She took a graham cracker and stacked a piece of chocolate on it, then slid a marshmallow on top of it. The chocolate immediately softened under the heat of the toasted marshmallow. “This is going to be so good.”
Billy bounced on his toes. “Mine next.”
Ford helped Billy finish his marshmallow and stack his s’more, then made one for himself.
“Ready?”
Billy lifted his and bit into it. “Tastes even better than Mom’s.”
“We will never tell her that,” Flynn said.
There were enough leftovers to make s’mores for the neighborhood, but it had been fun. The night sky glittered with a smattering of sparkling stars. Billy wiped his hands on a paper towel and then lay in the tent with his head hanging out on a pillow.
“Are you tired?” Flynn repacked the leftovers back in Ford’s paper sack.
“No, ma’am. I’m looking for shooting stars again.”
“The last time he was here there was a meteor shower. We came out at one o’clock in the morning to watch for them,” Flynn explained to Ford.
“We saw a ton. I made wishes all night.” Billy stared into the sky.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that there weren’t any meteor showers tonight. It would be a miracle if he caught a glimpse of even one shooting star.
“Let’s all watch.” Ford knelt down and climbed into the tent. “Come on, Flynn.”
Who was she to argue? Billy lay right smack-dab in the middle, with Ford on the right, so she slid into the empty spot on the left.
“There’s one!” Billy pointed to the sky.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Look. Another one.
”
Wishful thinking was a powerful image in the mind of a seven-year-old. “Make a wish,” she said quietly.
“I did.”
A few minutes later Billy was asleep.
“Do you think he really saw a falling star?” Ford asked. “I didn’t see anything.”
“No. Probably not, but it made him happy, and there’s never anything wrong with making a wish.”
“I made a couple, just in case,” Ford said.
“It’s a beautiful night. Thanks for hanging out with us.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He reached his arm across Billy and touched her cheek. “If this little munchkin wasn’t sleeping so soundly between us, I’d lean over and kiss you right now.”
She didn’t even know what to say. She’d had the very same feeling.
“Don’t say anything.” He winked and closed his eyes with a slight grin playing on his lips.
A few moments later, Flynn heard Ford suck in a deep breath. She rolled over onto her belly, watching both Billy and Ford sleep under the starry night. Billy looked so tiny lying beneath the sheet next to Ford.
This was a perfect night. Nothing fancy, just simple fun. Sharing time with people who made her feel special.
She slipped her phone out of her pocket and set the alarm. There was no need to disturb them. They had everything they needed for a good night’s rest. She’d make sure that Ford got up in time to get ready for his first class tomorrow and Billy had time to get up and brush his teeth and hair before Angie came by to take him to school.
The only thing missing from this picture was three more children and a dog. She turned back over and watched the sky.
A star soared across the southeastern arch. She squeezed her eyes shut and made a wish.
Chapter Fourteen
Ford jerked awake. It hadn’t been much more than a whisper, but the sound had pulled him out of the middle of a dream involving a weird paintball war at a demolition derby—no place for a lady, and it had definitely been a woman’s voice.
His inability to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes woke him in a panic. Last night quickly came back into focus when he saw the top of Billy’s head nestled beside him.
