When Sparks Fly

Harley runs the course, and I make suggestions on tweaks for distance between the obstacles and dropping the number of beach ball baskets they have to score from five to three for the sake of timeliness.

“I’m glad you could come in today; it’s great having your brain for these kinds of things.” London’s obviously trying to smooth things over.

“Me too. I’m looking forward to being able to take on more. And it won’t be long until I have my arm back, which will make everything so much easier.”

After Harley finishes the obstacle course—for the fourth time—she begs to be done because she’s exhausted and starving. London wheels me back to the office and orders lunch while Harley gets showered and changed.

While we’re waiting, London gets a call from one of the companies she’s reached out to recently regarding a marketing partnership. Normally she and I would confer about these kinds of things, but I wasn’t here to have the discussion, so it’s clear she took matters into her own hands, which are nervously twisting behind her back. “They’re dedicated to sourcing environmentally responsible products and reducing their carbon footprint. If I can convince them to work with us, it could open Spark House to a whole new client base like you talked about before the accident. It could be a really amazing way to gain a new revenue stream, especially since I didn’t get the alumni contract.”

“Harley told me. I’m sorry, London.”

She shakes her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. If you had been there, it wouldn’t have been a question, but they wanted to wait until you were back before they committed to anything.”

I give her hand a squeeze. “I can reach out in a few weeks and see if they’ll reconsider.”

“Sure, that’d be great. But in the meantime I have a meeting next week with Go Green, and it all looks really promising.”

This is so hard for all three of us, not wanting to step on one another’s toes, having to shift roles. Usually I’m the one in charge, and now London has had to jump in with both feet. It means she likely doesn’t have the time she’d like to focus on the details. I make a mental note to get her Etsy site set up for her since she isn’t the best at making time for herself. She needs a place to channel her creativity and an outlet for her stress.

“Can I say something?” London’s fingernails drum on the desk.

“Sure, of course.”

“I’m sorry I got on you about Declan. I know you’re capable of making your own choices. I just don’t want you to get hurt. This whole thing, you being in the accident, it brought up a lot of the same fears and worries I had when Mom and Dad died. I don’t ever want to lose you, and it felt like we came close this time.” Her smile is sad.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I reach out and give her hand a squeeze.

“Maybe when you’re feeling up to it, you could come stay the night at our place? We could have a girls’ night. Just the three of us?”

“That sounds great. I’d love that.”

“Okay.” Her smile widens.

Sometimes I wonder how hard it is for her to always be in the middle. Always trying to keep the peace. Forever the mediator.

17

NEVER TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING

AVERY

Harley gets me up to the condo, but we stop at the dry cleaners on the way home to pick up Declan’s suits and make another stop at the grocery story to grab a few ready-to-go meals. I’m able to manage simple things in the kitchen, and although being down a hand means I lack the dexterity to prepare anything elaborate, if I can make meal prep easier on Declan, I absolutely will.

Declan isn’t back from the office yet, and Harley asks half a dozen times if I want her to stay, but it’s been a long day and I know she has stuff she needs to do in preparation for the event this weekend.

I forgot to message Declan before I left Spark House, so I fire one off to let him know I’m already at the condo. Message sent, I crutch down the hall to my bedroom to change. I’ve gotten used to not wearing bras with straps and going commando most of the time, so a bra, underwear, and a dress is a lot to handle.

I also take a moment to freshen up below the waist, on the off chance what happened this morning happens again this evening. I don’t know what to expect, if anything. I’m as nervous as I am excited. I push London’s worries aside. Declan and I have a great foundation of friendship, and this shift, while unexpected, is something I think I’d like to explore more of.