“Gemma, hold my hand,” Eden demands, slurping the last bit of her ice cream.
Her fingers are a sticky mess. She gives the soggy cone to Alex. As that part isn’t nice.
“Let’s wash your hands first. I’m not touching those mucky fingers,” I tell her.
She puts her hands out to grab hold of me.
“Eden, no, no…” I run away from her, her wild little laugh following me.
I look behind to see Ace has joined her. I throw the picnic basket down so I can run faster. The children are coming for me, screaming with laughter. Turning my head to see where they are, I don't notice a dog that’s running towards me. I skid at the last minute to avoid landing on top of the terrier, and I twist my ankle. I end up on my side, my dress half way up my body.
A throbbing pain sears through my ankle. The owners come over to apologise and check on me; it is an accident, of course. Alex runs over with the picnic basket that I discarded.
“Are you okay?” He sits down next to me, looking at my ankle. He’s gentle as he lifts it up.
“It’s sore. I’m not sure I can walk on it,” I moan.
Alex’s thumb massages it in small circular motions. “Good news, I don’t think it’s broken, just sprained.” He looks at me. "That's what you get for running from little monsters," he jokes.
“Just what I need. Can you help me up, please?” I ask.
“Ace, take the basket. Eden, the ball.” He bends down, lifting me in his arms.
“What on earth are you doing?” I almost yell.
“Carrying you.”
“Put me down.” I struggle to get out of his arms.
He places me back on the grass. Struggling to get up on my feet, Alex crosses his arms over his chest as he watchesme. But I do it. I get myself off the ground only to fall into him, supporting myself on his arms.
“I’ll hold onto your arm,” I suggest.
“Get on, I’ll give you a piggyback.” He bends down. The car is a good mile away.
Hitching my dress up, I climb on. “Forward.” I point to the car, kicking him with my good foot on the one side like I was riding my old horse, Broomstick.
“Do you want to walk?” The gruff tone means he isn't amused by my antics.
“Sorry…” I try not to laugh.
Alex’s walking pace is slow.
“Good boy.” I pat his head. “I’ll give you a special treat when we get back.”
I feel Alex tense underneath me. “Maybe this should be a quiet walk,” he suggests.
“Daddy, I want you to be my horse when we get back,” Eden says.
I hear him groan so only I can hear, as he carries on back to the car.
Once the children are in their seats, Alex helps me in. “You should be okay in forty-eight hours. Until then, rest it,” he tells me.
Once I am sitting and comfortable, he puts my seatbelt on me. “I can do that,” I protest.
Putting his hands in the air, he backs off.
Alex