Chapter 22 Evan
“Are you ready?”
Flo lets out a shaky breath. “I think so.”
The road dips and curves beneath us. The sun is setting low, just peeking over the top of the landscape enough to emit a soft, orange glow.
In a matter of minutes, the darkness will begin rolling in.
She’s got both hands locked around her Honda’s wheel, knuckles pale, eyes fixed on the exit of my land—now we’re back in Montana—straight ahead as we creep over it slowly.
I want to tell her that she’s safe. That she’s driving along a familiar path she’s driven over many times before in the daylight, but I know talking too much about how okay she’ll be can sometimes make anxiety worse. Often, silence is a more comforting environment.
“Evan, I don’t know about this.” Flo freezes up.
“Just keep your hands steady. Once around the corner, and then we’ll be done.” I keep my voice quiet and calm.
Flo doesn’t answer, just swallows hard. The worry is etched into her usually smug features, and it hits me just how brave she’s being right now.
Driving in the dark is a normal thing for me, something I do most days, but she hasn’t done it in years, and this must feel like scaling a mountain to her.
“What if it starts raining?” she asks at the exact moment she turns the wheel off my property onto the country road.
“I’ve checked the weather forty times. There’s no chance of rain, trouble.”
“Okay, sorry.” She pushes her large glasses higher up onto her face before returning her hand to the wheel, shuffling in the seat.
“Don’t apologise. You’re doing great.”
The sun finally nestles itself behind the ridge of land behind us, and a wave of darkness settles upon us. Flo’s car headlights are blinding, and with twitchy fingers, she attempts to brighten them, but they’re already at their max.
Her mouth turns downwards, and I try to calm her by saying, “Usually, roads will be lit at night. It’s just because this is a back road that it isn’t. Barely anyone uses it at this time, though, so take it at your pace.”
We’re moving at well under the speed limit, but the chance that we’ll meet another car on this journey is slim, and even if we were to, I’d wave at them to overtake us so Flo isn’t pressured into driving faster than she’s comfortable with.
The fact that she’s behind the wheel at this time is a win in itself.
“I need a distraction.”
“That’s why I wore shorts,” I chuckle, and her eyes dart down to my thighs for a brief second before she lets the corners of her lips curve.
“Okay, too distracting.”
“Fine, can we talk about that jersey you made for Leo?”
Flo nods, slowing the car down once we reach a bend in the road, craning her neck to check for other drivers a few more times than necessary before pulling around it.
“Thank you. He absolutely loves it.”
“Just doing my job,” she responds.
“I’m pretty sure getting my son to fall head over heels for you wasn’t in the job description.”
“It just comes so naturally.” I can tell Flo isn’t fully paying attention to the conversation, though, since her eyes continue to glaze over and her throat keeps bobbing. She’s swallowing her anxiety, or attempting to, at least.
“You’re allowed to be nervous doing this, Flo. Don’t try to force it down as if it’s an emotion you should be ashamed of. If you need to stop, we can.”
Nodding her head, she smiles and pulls over on the side of the road, ensuring we’re far enough off it so we don’t block it. She turns to me, pulling her knees to her chest. “I just need a minute.” She laughs now. “I can’t believe I’m driving in the dark, though. What the fuck?”
My cheeks pinch with a grin. “It’s all you.”
God, do I want to smother her in kisses. My chest swells with pride, and it warms my entire body. Without thinking about it, I place my hand on her sweatpant-covered thigh, and a flush of want colours her cheeks in the dimly lit car.
Flo’s eyes dust over my hand. “I went to visit the car wreck with my mom after the crash. I probably shouldn’t have. I was too young to witness something like that, but I was such a headstrong kid that I refused to let anyone tell me what to do.”
“Sounds like you.”
Flo lays her hand over the top of mine. “The doctors were right. Megan shouldn’t have survived. It barely looked like a car; more like a hunk of beaten-up metal.”
“Would getting a more modern car make you feel safer?”
Flo gives me a crooked smile. “Why? If I say yes, are you going to offer to buy me one?”
That question doesn’t warrant a response, because I’m delusional, apparently, so if Flo McKenna needed the newest car to make her feel safe when driving, I’d purchase her one in a heartbeat.
“I like my little Honda. Bought her with my own money. My parents offered to help pay for something a little nicer, but I wanted to do it on my own, and I’m proud of the effort I put in to saving for her.”
“Has anyone ever told you that your independence is endearing?”
“Nope, most people just roll their eyes.”
My chest rumbles with a laugh. “Oh, trust me, I do that too.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way, West.” Flo releases a breath. “Thank you for helping me do this. You could be spending it at Mae and Nathan’s game night, but instead, you’re parked up on the side of the road next to a pile of cow manure with me.”
“Of course, trouble. Cow manure beats Nathan and Mae, easy.”
Our gaze catches, and everything else blurs into the background. I want to memorise everything about this girl. I want her face scarred into my memory, so I can access it when I’m having a bad day.
It was a one-time thing.
What we did was a one-time thing, Evan.
Flo’s hands now move to grip the wheel again, and her face shows determination. “Shall we continue this?”
I gesture to the road. “When you’re ready.”
And in the quiet moment where Flo smiles sheepishly at me and pulls back onto the road, causing my body to flourish with triumph at what she’s accomplished today, it strikes me with a surprising force—I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do for this woman.
“Nope.”
“Nah.”
“Hate it.”
My son’s sassy tone can be heard from downstairs as I return from practice, so I follow the voice to see him lying on his bed with Flo in front of him, holding a white knitted sweater. There’s a giant pile of clothing at her feet.
“What are you two doing?”
“We just got back from the petting zoo, and there was this really fashionable kid there, so Leo wanted to go through his wardrobe.” Flo shoots me a look that says It’s just a fashionista phase, don’t worry, before she wiggles the white sweater again, and Leo inclines his head.
“That one’s good.” He takes it from Flo and pulls it over his head, which is when I realise he’s already wearing three sweaters.
“Leo, little lion, you look like a giant marshmallow.”
My comment makes him giggle, but not a second later, he’s diving into the pile of clothes as if he’s competing for a gold medal, disappearing into the heap of fabric.
“Hmm, where’s my son gone?” Walking around the room, feet dangerously close to the pile of clothes, I place my hands on my hips and pretend I have no idea where Leo’s gone.
“I’m in here!” His voice is muffled under the pile.
“Who said that?” I murmur, spinning around.
“Well, I guess if Leo isn’t here, we’ll have to go to the movies without him tonight, which is a shame since Whisker Wheelers 2 just came out in 3D,” Flo sighs, shaking her head.
“I’m here! I’m here!” My son bursts out of the pile, clutching a few pairs of pants that no longer fit him, and throws them at both of us, which makes us laugh. And suddenly, we’re all in a full-blown clothing-throwing fight.
Pyjamas are thrown my way, and I retaliate with a few pairs of socks to the face. But then a hooded sweater hits me, the zipper tapping my cheek slightly, and I clutch it with scrunched brows. “Ow! Oh my God!”
Flo immediately gasps and rushes up to me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that one had a zipper.”
With half of my face covered away from Flo, I offer my son a wink, and he shoots me a devilish smile.
“Evan, let me see.”
“Got you,” I call as I pull a balled-up black shirt from behind my back and throw it in Flo’s face.
She immediately narrows her eyes at me, hair now all fussed, and mutters a low, humorous, “I hate you.”
“What was that, trouble? Say that again for me?” My expression is daring as my lips flick up, tapping on my ear.
She remains silent, rolling her eyes and pushing down a laugh.
“That’s what I thought.” Lifting my son into my arms, I blow a raspberry onto his stomach after pulling up his layer of many sweaters. He reaches for Flo, begging her to rescue him, and she giggles, taking a step back.
“You started this, Leo. There’s no saving you now.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” I pinch the white sweater. “Now, take all of these off before you melt and we miss the movie.”