Page 66 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House

‘Chef, your phone is ringing.’

‘Yes, I hear it, Cyrus.’

‘Maybe you should answer it.’

Archer sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. ‘And then who is going to plate all this food.’

Cyrus shrugged. ‘Might be something about your daughter.’

Shit. Jesus, why hadn’t that even occurred to him? The phone stopped and then started again and now Archer was convinced something was very wrong with his daughter. His daughter who he'd momentarily forgotten existed. He sucked.

He strode over to where his coat was hanging in the back office and grabbed the phone from his pocket.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as soon as he saw Iris’s number and hit answer call.

‘Olive’s sick.’

Sweat dripped down his back, dread dropping like a stone in his gut.

‘What do you mean sick? How sick? Is she okay?’ With each question he felt his anxiety increasing. He didn’t know how to have a sick child. He barely knew how to have awellchild.

‘I don’t know, the nurse called, and I had to pick her up from school and I thought we would just get in our jammies and rest and drink juice, but she’s really hot and listless and the internet says we need kids Tylenol but we don’t have any and I don’t know what to do and I’m sorry and I know this is my job and…’

‘Iris, breathe.’ Somehow her panic forced him out of his own. At least one grown-up should not be freaking out at a time, right? That seemed integral to the process of raising a kid.

‘I’m sure she’s going to be fine,’ he went on. ‘Kids, get sick all the time.’ That was true, wasn’t it? Kids were gross and filled with germs. He was pretty sure this was all completely normal, even though it felt like the fire alarm was going off in his head.

‘I guess.’ Iris’s voice was small and scared and another jolt of worry shot through him.

‘I’m coming home. I’ll stop at the store and get the fever reducer, okay?’

‘Okay, thank you. I’m really sorry.’

‘Stop apologizing. It’s my fault. I should have stocked the house with all this stuff. I’ll be there as quickly as I can, okay?’

‘Okay.’

As soon as he’d disconnected with Iris, he strode back out into the kitchen. The new guy, Holden, had already stepped up to Cyrus’s position at the grill and Cyrus was plating the dishes.

‘Don’t worry, chef,’ Jess said, patting his arm before loading her tray with the meals. ‘We got this. Go take care of Olive.’

Good to know that they could hear everything he said in the office, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. He was just happy he could leave and be certain the diner would be fine without him. It had been existing without him for years, after all. And what a liberating thought that was.

‘Thanks, everyone. See you tomorrow.’

By the time Archer made it home, with bags filled with canned soup, kids Tylenol, saline nasal spray, all-natural honey lollipops, a thermometer you apparently put under the kid’s armpit and one for her mouth because he didn’t trust armpit temperatures, a new Pumpkin Spice coloring book in case she was bored, a tub of Vicks VapoRub, and bubble-gum flavored cough syrup, he was a tangled knot of worry.

But he was a dad now and if his own amazing father had taught him one thing, it was that dads kept their shit together in times of crisis.

He opened the door quietly, in case Olive had fallen asleep, but Iris was there to meet him before he was even over the threshold.

‘You’re here,’ she said, and her whole body sagged in relief. And it did something to him, this relief, this idea that he was here and now things would be better, that he would help. Olive needed him and Iris needed him, and it was different than being needed at work. It was different than being the boss, than running a tight ship, than making sure everything went perfectly. Here, they just neededhim.

‘I’m here. How’s Olive?’

Iris glanced back toward the couch where Olive’s face was barely peeking out from a pile of blankets. ‘She says she feels cold, but her skin is burning hot and the internet is filled with a lot of strong opinions about what we should do.’ Iris’s usual playfulness was gone. There was no mischief in her eyes, no smile playing around her lips. She was worried. Worried about his kid. And that did something to him, too, but he didn’t have time to explore that right now.

Instead, he grabbed her chin and tilted her face up to his.