Page 29 of Property of Riptide
“That’s the issue,” I banter, “everyone always gives him his way so he doesn’t blow the fuck up.”
“I don’t know about you, Riptide, but I’m not one that wants to see that play out.”
“It’s not pretty when it does happen,” I confirm. “You’re right, we’ll never get shit done sitting here.” I swing the door open as wide as I can with him blocking me and slip through the small slit.
“Bout time,” Icer huffs.
“Brother,” I warn, grinding my teeth. “You’re too damn much sometimes.”
“If you can’t handle me, jump out of the frying pan,” he counters. “Stop stalling, lower the seat and give me little G.” As I go to unclip the car seat from the base, he shoves me aside. “He needs skin to skin contact, not to be stuck in that contraption.”
“You going to carry him around all day, brother?” I ask.
“That’s the plan,” he tells me as he stands Elodie on the floorboard while undoing the straps around the little man. He lifts G into his arms then slings the diaper bag over his shoulder. “We’ll see you around.” Icer plucks Elodie up and holds her in his other arm before shuffling away without even a wave goodbye.
“Why do I get the feeling I won’t be seeing my son other than a few peeks here and there throughout the day?” Van asks, clucking her tongue.
Indiana and Zoey come walking our way. We share a disgruntled look as he asks me, “Did he steal your kid too?”
“He stormed in, whisked him away, and didn’t even say ‘see ya later’,” Van gripes.
“At least he didn’t come into your room while you were sleeping and attempt to sneak out with your kid,” Zoey complains.
“He forgets I sleep with one eye open,” Indiana remarks.
“I don’t think he gives a shit,” I reply. “Does anyone know what his plans were for the kids today?”
“Issy had some kid activities set up. I think he was going to take them there,” Zoey reckons.
“I bet Elodie comes back sugared up,” Indiana murmurs. “Not it!”
“Not it? You can’t simply call ‘not it’ when you’re a dad, Indiana!” Zoey admonishes.
I clamp my eyes shut because I know this is fixing to become a bickering match. Van wraps her arms around me and winks. “If that’s the case, why don’t y’all just pawn her off on Icer for the night?” Van asks, mischievously smiling.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Indiana contemplates. “What do you think, Zo?”
“I think it would be good for him,” Zoey says, nodding her head. “I like it.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about that with little man,” I muse. “He doesn’t have enough teeth to eat sweets.”
“He has just enough for cotton candy,” Indiana states.
“He wouldn’t dare!” Van shouts, clutching her chest. “It’s too much sugar for a baby.”
The four of us stop dead in our tracks and our eyes swivel from one to the other. “Let’s go,” I order, grabbing Van’s hand and sprinting toward the kids’ arena.
The place is packed with kids running amuck as parents try to keep up with them. We have to weave our way through, dodging the younger ones while trying not to get between them and their folks. When we come across Icer and the kids, he’s sitting at one of the picnic benches, little man on his lap and Elodie sittingbeside him. Little G is sucking down one of his pouches and Elodie is munching on a roasted corn on the cob.
Elodie looks up at Icer, batting her eyes. “After this, I get to go to the candy cart, right?”
“If you eat your veggie, I’ll buy you one thing, princess,” Icer answers. “More than that isn’t good for your teeth and will stunt your growth.”
“What does stunt your growth mean?” Elodie asks him, looking at him as if he has all the right answers. “Momma’s said that to me before, but I never understand what she means. When I ask her about it, her words are too grown up and boring.”
Zoey gasps beside us as Indiana chuckles. He leans over and whispers, “You do always talk to her like she’s an adult.”
“That’s because she’s too damn smart for her own good. Don’t look at me like that, mister, she brings it on herself by asking questions when it comes to things she shouldn’t be curious about,” Zoey sighs.
