Page 41 of The Alien Reindeer's Bounty
“Promise it won’t hurt?”
“You want me to strap a pillow to you?”
Ruby pursed her lips, as if considering the ludicrous suggestion. “No. I’m not a baby.”
Odessa kissed the curly top of her baby’s head and tried to jam a knit hat over all that hair. A knock sounded at the door. “That’s our ride.”
“Does Mads know how to skate, too?”
“Yup. We used to skate on the lake all the time when we were kids.” Memories of chilly days and the sound of blades on ice brought a smile to her face. It was too early in the season for the lake to have frozen over for skating. The family fun center in the next town over had an outdoor pavilion and ice-skating rink. They did concerts in the summer, ice in the winter, and indoor mini golf all year-round.
“Is this a date?”
“We’re just skating, goblin.”
Odessa opened the door and Ruby rushed out. “Hey, Mads! Mommy’s excited about your date.”
The little tattletale.
“Is she?” Mads grinned.
“She changed her outfitthreetimes.”
“I told you—the right pants are important. I need to move. But the big question is where did you learn to be such a traitor?” Odessa pushed Ruby into the car and fastened her into the booster seat.
Mads circled around the car, inspecting the tires. If he asked for service records and receipts, she wouldn’t have been surprised, but he said nothing before climbing in the driver’s side.
“It was just a flat tire. They happen. It’s not a failure to do basic maintenance,” she said, feeling the need to defend herself. Yesterday, her father went on and on about getting snow chains—which wouldn’t have prevented a flat tire—or buying her a domestic SUV—which also had nothing to do with preventing a flat tire. “And I can drive my own car, Sommerfeldt.”
“But I’m the chauffeur.” His hands gripped the wheel, but his tone remained light and playful. “This is important to me, Muller. Don’t take this away.”
Ruby giggled from the back seat.
“Fine,” Odessa acquiesced. If Mads being silly put Ruby in a good mood, she’d suffer having someone else drive her around town.
“Good,” he said. “I’ve been practicing all these moves to impress you on our date.”
“I told you it was a date, Mommy,” the little goblin in the backseat chirped.
“This is not a date,” she said.
“Stop wasting date time.” He thumped the dashboard.
“You’re not amusing.” She tried to fight a grin as she said the words and failed.
Mads
He followedthe navigational instructions from Odessa’s phone. In short order, they were fitting the calf for skates.
“Do you still have your skates?” he asked.
“Me? Heck no,” Odessa answered.
“You loved those neon green skates.”
“Ew, Mommy. Neon? Gross,” Ruby said.
“The color was honeydew, not neon green, and they wouldn’t fit anymore,” Odessa said.
