But there was something.
They worked through the rest of the stations, then loaded their meals into their totes. Gabby packed up the car before going back to get her girls.
“You ready?” she asked.
Kenzie and Kennedy looked at each other before nodding at her.
“They were great,” Cecelia told her.
“We were very good,” Kenzie added.
“I’m sure you were.”
The twins were at that age where they were angelic with everyone but her. She’d read dozens of books on child rearing and from what the experts said, the need to be more independent battled with the need for Mom. So while everyone else got smiles and good behavior, she got push-back and tears.
She waited while her girls hugged Cecelia goodbye. They were growing fast, she thought with contentment. They were bright, inquisitive and loving. Given how right everything was in her life, she could deal with a little push-back now and then.
They left the child-care area and headed toward the front door. Today they’d chosen matching clothes. Blue shorts and blue-and-white T-shirts with little kittens on them. They’d lost that toddler chubbiness and were now looking like little girls.
They were fraternal twins, but so close in appearance that most people thought they were identical. They both had big hazel eyes and strawberry blond hair. They sounded alike and were both energetic.
But there were also differences. The shape of their chins. Kennedy had thicker, slightly curlier hair. Kenzie was a bit taller. School was going to be interesting, Gabby mused. Kennedy was more outgoing, but Kenzie had a level of patience her sister didn’t. She wasn’t sure which characteristics would mean success.
They reached her SUV and she opened the rear door on the driver’s side.
“In you go.”
The girls didn’t budge.
“We want booster seats,” Kennedy said firmly. “Car seats are for babies. Mommy, we’re starting kindergarten.”
“That means we’re not babies anymore,” Kenzie added.
Gabby didn’t know which kid at their summer camp had said something about booster seats versus car seats, but she really wished he or she hadn’t.
She thought about the bottles of wine waiting back inside Supper’s in the Bag. She could give the girls back to Cecelia, have a couple of glasses and then phone Andrew to drive them all home. She could bang her head against the side of the SUV until that pain was bigger than the argument. Or she could suck it up, remind herself that she was blessed and lucky and every other good thing, and simply deal.
Despite the fact that the wine scenario was really appealing, she went with the latter.
“You are growing,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “And I love you very much. That’s why I want to keep you safe. Please get in your seats so we can go home and get dinner ready for your dad.”
The twins stayed stubbornly in place.
Gabby held in a sigh. Where was the win in this fight? She wasn’t going to be blackmailed by five-year-olds. “Boomer and Jasmine are waiting for their dinners, too. I want to go home. Please get in your car seats now.”
“We won’t.” Kennedy crossed her arms over her chest. Kenzie followed, because Kenzie always followed.
“For every minute we wait here, you will lose fifteen minutes of your television time,” she told the girls. Kind of a big deal because TV was limited in the Schaefer household.
The twins glanced at each other, then back at her. Kenzie leaned over to her sister.
“Fifteen minutes is a long time.”
Kennedy sighed heavily, then got in the SUV. Kenzie did the same. Gabby vowed that later she would talk to her husband and they would brainstorm a solution. Or at the very least have a glass of wine and remind themselves that in ten years, when the twins wanted to start dating, they would look back on the car-seat fights and tell themselves these were the good old days.
“I heard the news,” Cecelia said as she tidied the crayons scattered across the kid-sized table.
Nicole Lord held in a heavy sigh and faked a big smile. “Of course you did. Isn’t it fantastic? We’re all superexcited.”
Cecelia stepped closer and lowered her voice. “It’s okay. Tyler’s over there.”
Nicole glanced at her son who was across the room, playing with Hayley, then back at the nineteen-year-old babysitter. “Can you believe it? I can’t. Of all the luck. Or lack of luck. Tyler’s thrilled. He’s counting the days. If his math was good enough, he’d be counting the minutes.”
“And you?” Cecelia asked.
Nicole rolled her eyes. “I’m counting the minutes, too, but for different reasons.”
“You’re not going to attack him or anything, are you? I’d hate to read about you being arrested.”
The question, meant to be funny, offered a visual that Nicole found tempting. Not being arrested. Despite the guilty pleasure of the show Orange Is the New Black, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t do well in jail. Or prison. Either, really. But attacking Jairus Sterenberg was a different matter. She wouldn’t mind smacking him really hard. Or maybe just giving him a piece of her mind. The angry, annoyed part.
“I will not attack him, I promise. Tyler loves his Brad the Dragon books and I would never hurt my son.”
“What if he didn’t find out?” Cecelia teased. She held up one hand. “I’ll stop now. It’s just, you really hate the guy.”
“I don’t hate him,” Nicole said, hoping it was true. “How can I hate someone I’ve never met? It’s just...” She shook her head. “That whole empire of his. The article I read on him a while back said he was a pretty awful person, making money off of kids. Which means he’s little more than a weasel rat bastard who would merchandise air if he could figure out a way.”
Brad the Dragon had started life in picture books and was now also in chapter books. And the merchandising! There were stuffed animals and clothes and sheets and games. The man was wallowing in money, she thought bitterly. All at the expense of kids and parents everywhere.
Worse, so much worse, she’d just discovered he lived in the area. And in what some people would mistakenly claim was a generous offer, he’d held a contest through the parks’ summer programs. The same summer programs where Tyler spent his days.
Kids were invited to write a paper explaining why they loved B the D. The winning camper and his or her class got a personal visit from Jairus himself, along with an autographed book.
Tyler had been thrilled to find out about the contest and had spent two weeks perfecting his entry. Nicole would know—she’d helped him every step of the way. They’d
