Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(85)



“Do you think your sisters would be open to something like this?”

“I don’t know. We already have a lot going on with the franchises, so I’m not sure if adding more now is the best plan.”

He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “It might not hurt to at least mention it. I know in the past you’ve put your own happiness aside because you want the closeness with your sisters, but maybe you don’t have to anymore.”

“I’ve been reluctant to make any suggestions because we’re in the middle of the franchise start-up, and it’s been a bit overwhelming. But you’re right, if I don’t say anything, nothing will change.”

Gavin’s phone chimes from somewhere close by. He frowns. “I should shut my phone off tonight.” He reaches over and grabs his pants, pulling the device free. He glances at the screen and the furrow in his brow deepens. “Shit. Karen’s called twice.”

“I hope everything’s okay with Peyton.”

He hits a few buttons and brings the phone to his ear. I only hear one side of the conversation, but it sounds like Peyton couldn’t find her stuffed bunny and that they’ve managed to recover it. We both say good night and assure Peyton that she can still call us in the morning, but not too early.

An hour later Gavin gets another phone call from Karen because Peyton is having a hard time sleeping. I sing her a lullaby over the phone and say good night again. Twice more Karen calls, but finally around eleven it stops. We get to enjoy the hot tub, sort of, but we’re both on alert and basically waiting for another phone call.

Which comes at eight the next morning. Incidentally, that’s when Gavin’s phone is set to receive calls; he put it on do not disturb from midnight until eight.

Gavin rolls over, grumbling, and answers the call. He scrubs his hand over his face. “What do you mean she’s not feeling well? Does she have a fever?” There’s a pause on his end. “Did she throw up? Was it something she ate?… No.… No. Can I speak with her?… We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He ends the call and tosses the phone on the bed.

“Peyton’s not feeling well.” I try not to let the disappointment seep into my tone or show on my face.

“According to Karen, she’s not.” The set of his jaw tells me he’s not happy.

“Do you believe her?”

“I don’t know, but she seems worried, and I don’t want to leave Peyton with her grandparents if she’s not feeling well.”

“Should we stop in and see how she’s doing, or would you rather us pack up and go?”

Gavin rubs his temples. “I’d like to say we can just stop over and check on her, but this isn’t going to be much of a weekend if we keep getting phone calls from Karen the entire time with false fucking alarms. I really thought she was coming around.”

“Maybe it isn’t false alarms? Maybe Peyton really is unwell. Let’s pack everything up, and if things are fine, we can come back here, but if they aren’t, we can take her home. You’re right, leaving her with Karen and Kyle if she’s unwell isn’t a good idea, and we don’t want to set it up so that future weekends are stressful for us or her.”

He leans over and kisses me. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Peyton is always your top priority.” I hope for Karen’s sake, Peyton truly is unwell.

We pack our things and arrive at Karen’s an hour later. We find Peyton in the kitchen with Karen, tracing shapes on paper with cookie cutters, which is something I taught Peyton to do so she could make her own holiday garland to string up between her bedposts.

I don’t have to look at Gavin to know he’s not pleased. It bleeds through in his tone. “I thought you said Peyton wasn’t feeling well.”

Peyton looks up from her tracing, eyes wide. “Daddy?” She jumps up from her chair and rushes over. “I thought you weren’t coming to get me until tomorrow.”

“Granny called to let us know you weren’t feeling well. But you look like you’re okay now.” He strokes her hair and smiles down at her, his expression shifting and his smile stiffening when he glances at Karen, who pushes back her chair and clasps her hands in front of her.

The forced contrition is a lot to handle. I hang back, aware this isn’t my fight and I need to let Gavin deal with his mother-in-law.

“I was thirsty this morning and I drank my milk too fast. But I feel good now. Are you staying here tonight? Can we go to the park you built this afternoon?”

“I’m so sorry I interrupted your plans. Why don’t I whip up some scrambled eggs and you can stay for brunch? Then I can take you to the park, Peyton.”

“We packed up all of our stuff thinking that Peyton was ill and had come down with something,” Gavin says.

“I just had a sore tummy. It’s okay now,” Peyton says.

I glance between Gavin and Karen, aware that Gavin is not happy about this situation, or the fact that Karen called several times last night and we started our morning off with this. It all seems too intentional.

I turn to Peyton. “I didn’t really get to see your bedroom yesterday. Do you want to show it to me now?”

“Okay.” She nods and takes my hand, leading me down the hallway and up the stairs to the second floor. I want to stop along the way and check out all the pictures on the wall, but I can hear Gavin’s less-than-impressed voice filtering down the hall, getting heated.

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