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I’m on the verge of a panic attack, when I recall highlighting a section in The Manual that outlines the steps of what to do if Lola’s sick. I rush into the kitchen where the binder is and frantically flip through the pages.
Thank god for Dylan’s need to meticulously plan everything. There are detailed instructions on medication and a complete list of emergency contacts, including Lola’s pediatrician. Now, fingers crossed the Tylenol does the trick.
14
DYLAN
TODAY HAS BEEN JAM-PACKED with back-to-back meetings with no end in sight. I’m leaning back in my chair at the head of the table as Jared, one of my analysts, drones on about a revised cost-benefit analysis.
I check my watch to see that it’s already 3:00 p.m. I had to disable notifications on my phone, and it’s been bothering me that I haven’t checked in with Marlow since before lunchtime.
I wasn’t thrilled when Harrison told me I had to come to New York City this week for in-person meetings. But my team and I are entangled in extensive red tape to finalize the finances for the Vanburen project before the city approves the development, so there was no way around this trip.
While I’m taking the lead here in New York, Cash is in London, overseeing the training of a team for our new office. Although, judging from the photos he’s posted on social media, it seems he’s dedicating as much time to extracurricular activities as he has for work. He thrives on attention and is always the first to volunteer when a project requires extended travel. But that doesn’t do me much good when we have multiple high-profile projects in different cities.
I’ve only been in New York for two days, but it feels like an eternity.
I asked my parents to watch Lola but they’re in Spring Haven visiting my aunt. My mom said they’ve had these plans for months, but this past weekend was the first time I heard about it.
With my parents away, I asked Marlow to watch Lola. I was apprehensive at first since I haven’t left Lola with her overnight before, but she’s exceeding my expectations.
While I’ve been gone, Lola and I have a nightly video chat, and Marlow sends me hourly updates. My daughter seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself, although that doesn’t take away the regret that I’m not home with her.
The truth is, Lola isn’t the only one that’s been on my mind while I’ve been away. Marlow has occupied my thoughts since last Friday. I’ve replayed our moment outside of Willow Creek Café countless times. The way her body was flush against me, the sweet scent of citrus and rose filling the air, and the look of lust in her eyes as she gazed up at me while I teased her mouth with mine.
I miss her infectious smile, the way she bites on her lower lip when she’s nervous, and the way she makes me feel when I’m around her.
As soon as Jared wraps up his presentation, I’m out of my seat. “Let’s take a break, and we’ll reconvene in ten minutes.” I’m out the door before anyone can respond.
I rush back to my office, anxious to check in with Marlow to see how she and Lola are doing this afternoon. Lola should be home from school by now.
My pulse quickens when I check my phone and see fifteen missed calls and texts from Marlow, asking me to call her back as soon as possible. A flood of concern sweeps over me as I listen to the last voicemail she left over two hours ago.
Hi, Dylan, it’s me again. Lola’s fever spiked, and her pediatrician wants me to bring her in as a precaution. I was hoping to talk to you first, but I don’t want to wait any longer. We’re going to his office now. Please call me back as soon as you get this. Thanks, bye.
Marlow’s voice trembles like she’s on the verge of tears. I kick myself for silencing my notifications earlier. Given her lack of experience with children, I doubt she’s had to take care of a sick kid before.
I attempt to call her back repeatedly, letting out a string of curse words when she doesn’t answer. The guilt hits me hard, knowing my little ladybug is sick, and I’m not there to take care of her. I’m grateful Marlow had the good sense to take Lola to the pediatrician, though. I have to trust that she’ll hold down the fort until I can get home.
Unfortunately, Cash took the Stafford Holdings jet to London, and the helicopter is primarily used for the short-range commute to and from our headquarters in Maine, so I have no choice but to charter another flight home. I text my assistant, Max, to have him call a taxi and find me the earliest flight to Aspen Grove.
After a dozen more failed attempts to reach Marlow, I resort to calling Lola’s pediatrician. Dr. Lassen’s nurse informs me that Marlow brought Lola into the clinic a couple of hours ago. Lola was diagnosed with the flu, and Dr. Lassen said to give her Tylenol according to the instructions on the bottle, and make sure she gets plenty of fluids and rest.
By the time I touch down in Aspen Grove, my worry has morphed into frustration. I can’t believe Marlow hasn’t called back or texted an update.
I speed home from the airport and find her Jeep parked in my driveway. I pull in behind her, leaving my briefcase and luggage in the car as I rush inside to find my daughter.
“Marlow? Lola?” My voice echoes down the hall, but I’m met with silence.
I check the living room and kitchen, ignoring the messy state of the house. With no sign of them on the first floor, I go upstairs to check Lola’s room, only to find it empty.
I’m seconds away from going over to check to see if they’re at Marlow’s house when I come to a standstill in my bedroom doorway.
Marlow and Lola are both asleep in my bed.
Lola is snuggled in against Marlow, one hand draped across her stomach and the other tucked against her chest. Waffles lies on Lola’s other side, making himself at home on my memory foam pillow. He raises his head when I step further into the room, but quickly dismisses me, settling back against my pillow.
I quietly tiptoe over to the bed, leaning across Marlow to place my hand on Lola’s forehead. I sigh in relief when it’s cool to the touch. Thank god, her fever must have finally broken.
