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“But why? You could just eat regular chips.”
She grinned, setting down her Kindle to eat another one. “Yes, I could, but after pigging out on pizza with you, I wanted something a little healthier.”
“Healthier, huh? My dad would probably really like it if I ate a chip made out of leaves.”
“You’re welcome to try some if you want,” Lyndi said, holding out the bag.
“Do they have nuts?” he asked, clearly used to asking that question before he sampled anything. “I can’t eat anything with nuts.”
“Nope, no nuts. Only kale and sea salt, I think.”
“Wait,” I said, coming toward them and grabbing the bag from Lyndi’s outstretched hand. “Let’s check the ingredients first, just to be safe.” I scanned the list on the side of the bag, eyes widening. “Ha, see?Cashewbutter.”
Grayson winced. “Uh-oh.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, Gray. I was only thinking about pieces of nuts. Who would have thought kale chips would have nutbutterin them?”
“Zac said it’s not always obvious. We gotta check before we offer himanything,” I told her, handing back her snack before turning to Gray with a wink. “Looks like healthy snacks aren’t always the best choice, huh?”
He laughed, relaxing a little. I was sure it was hard on him to always have to be so careful before he ate anything. Most kids could trust that whatever a grown-up offered them would be safe for them to eat, but not Gray. I was proud of him for asking first, but to keep him safe, Lyndi and I would definitely need to stay on top of actual ingredient reading.
“What else can I have?” Grayson asked.
I led him to the kitchen, looking through the pantry. Then I got an idea and spun on my heel, heading for the Bundt cake on the counter. “Do you like cake?”
“Yeah.”
“Lyndi got this cake from the new bakery that just opened after she took photos for their website. Lemme just read the ingredients here, too, and hopefully it’ll be nut-free.”
Gray waited while I did so, and I didn’t see anything on there that pointed toward nuts or butters with nuts. It was gluten-free, too, so maybe that was a good sign.
I put it back on the counter and opened the plastic lid. “You’re in luck, big guy. Nothing about nuts.”
“Yes!” He fist pumped the air, then gratefully accepted the slice of cake I dished up for him.
“I only have almond milk though, so you’ll have to stick with water to drink. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He took the plate to the table, and I brought him some water, then went to the canvas to gather our used painting supplies. I wanted to wash the paint off the palette and brushes before it dried. Bringing them to the sink, I called out to Gray. “How’s the cake?”
“Delicious,” he replied through a mouthful of confetti cake. “Can I have more when I’m finished with this?”
“You really are a bottomless pit,” I called back, running the brushes under the water. “Let’s see how you feel after that piece.”
He didn’t reply, but I smiled to myself. I sounded like a mom. This whole night had felt like a huge step in that direction for me. Of course, I was worried about whatever was happening with Trevor and hated that I’d had to spend time alone with Grayson for that reason, but at the same time, it was also really nice.
More than that, I loved how Zac had trusted me with his son. And I had to admit, I felt a huge confidence boost after saving Gray from the kale chips. As soon as I knew everything was okay with Trevor, I planned to tease Zac about how cake had wound up being a better snack for his kid than kale.
“Grayson, are you okay?” I heard Lyndi ask, concern dripping from her tone. He didn’t answer, and I dropped the brushes and rushed in there, not even bothering to shut off the water. Lyndi had just reached him when I rounded the corner. “Lay, look at him.”
I practically fell to the ground in front of Grayson’s chair in an effort to get a closer look at the red splotches all over his face. His chest heaved, snot dripping from one nostril. His eyes were wide with fear, and his mouth was bright red and swollen.
“What the heck? But I checked—” Snapping out of it, I didn’t bother to finish my sentence before leaping into action. I grabbed the EpiPen off the kitchen counter and then dashed back over to him, recalling the steps Zac had walked me through last month when I’d asked him how it worked.
Every prescription box came with a training pen, because even though the process seemed straightforward in theory, administering the shot was harder than it looked. You needed to push the device down firmly to make the spring-loaded needle pop out and maintain the pressure for several seconds while the epinephrine dispensed. If I hadn’t practiced with the training pen, there was no way I would have known to push that hard in a real emergency.
“Grayson, hang in there, buddy,” I said, tearing off the cap. “I’m gonna give you your shot, okay?”
He nodded weakly but didn’t speak.
