“Call me if anything goes wrong, or you’re unsure about something. I’ve texted you with all the emergency numbers you might need: mine, my sister’s, and Coach Darrell’s. Leo doesn’t have any known allergies, but please don’t try him on any new foods without me here, just in case. He has a habit of talking while he eats sometimes, so correct him on that. I don’t want him choking.”
I nod.
“He’s a little overexcited this morning, so please remind him to use his manners. If he’s ever rude or doesn’t listen to you, put him on the naughty step and then ask him to apologise after three minutes, but I hope you won’t have any issues where you’ll have to do that. He’s usually a pretty polite kid.”
“No new foods. Don’t talk with his mouth full. Naughty step. I’ve got it.”
I’m unable to bring myself to laugh at Evan. I’m not in his position. I don’t have a kid, and although some maysay his fears are irrational and he’s overbearing, he has a child that he loves and cares about. Perhaps when, or if, I have children, the same fears and worries will creep into my mind too, especially if I were to leave them in the care of someone I barely know.
“It’s all written out for you if you struggle to remember.”
The skin on my legs tingles as Evan looks at me, and not due to his good looks. I didn’t sleep well, tossing and turning all night, because even though the mattress was the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on, the sheets felt like spines against my bare skin, and I’m not sure why. My legs feel like they’re sizzling, but I put it down to spending too much time in the sun over the past couple of days.
“My sister, Gracie, will be coming back from a viewing sometime this afternoon, and then she can take over from you. It’s going to be hot today, so I’ve set up the paddling pool outside in case Leo wants to use it, but please don’t leave the water in there. It attracts mosquitoes. I’m not sure if you cook, but I’ve prepared his lunch for him in case you don’t. It’s in the fridge.”
I nod with each instruction. “Sounds easy enough. And yes, I do cook, for future reference.”
Evan dips his chin. “Okay, I’d prefer if you didn’t take any photos inside my house, too, please. And definitely none of Leo.”
I shoot him a look that saysDo you really think I’m going to do that?but judging by Evan’s cocked head and hiked upeyebrows, he needs verbal reassurance that I’m not going to.
“I have no interest in taking photos of the house or your son, no matter how cute he is. I already signed the contract your coach sent agreeing not to, anyway, so you’re welcome to sue me if you catch me.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Leo is sitting at the table in the kitchen alongside Donkey when we enter, digging into a bowlful of cereal, and as soon as he spots me, he grins. “Flo!”
“Swallow your food first, buddy,” his dad reminds him, tone laced with concern, wiping the spilt milk off the table using a wet cloth.
Leo does as he’s told and laughs as his father presses a big kiss to the top of his head, grabbing his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“What are we going to do today?” he asks.
“Well…” My eyes slice over to Evan. “Ziplining is still an option if your dad—”
“No,” is his gruff response, making me chortle.
“I’ve got a few things in mind, bud, don’t worry.” I shoot Leo a wink, but his eyes aren’t on mine. They’re attached to my glucose monitor stuck to the back of my arm—a white circular patch.
“What’s that?”
“Leo, that’s rude,” Evan warns him, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not something you just ask someone.” He turns to me now, mouth downturned. “I apologise."
“It’s totally fine.” I pull up a seat beside Leo and twizzle my arm so he can see the patch. “I have a condition called type one diabetes, so this little sticker on my arm helps me check that my blood sugar isn’t too high or low. My body’s a little different from yours, Leo, so where you can eat whatever you want when you want, I have to be careful because I could get really sick.”
Leo flutters his eyelashes, taking in every word.
I pull out my phone, flashing him the screen, showing the app connected to my monitor. “This here tells me what my blood sugar is like, and whether I need to do something to fix it. Makes it a lot easier for me.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, I have to inject myself to keep my blood sugar where it’s supposed to be, and it’s a pain in the—” I stop myself before I curse—” butt sometimes, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Could I get it?”
I shrug. “I mean, maybe, but you can’t catch it from me, if that’s what you mean.”
“Can you still play with me?”
