to the sandbox. “Is this true, Nicky? Did you throw sand on your sister?” Sam asked in a stern voice.
“Ro-ro’s tryin’ to boss me,” Nicky said, his lower lip sticking out in a pronounced pout, which Sam knew was a sure sign of guilt in Nicky.
“He stealed my sand,” Rosie said with a glower of her own as she gestured to the whole sandbox. Obviously she thought every grain of sand was hers. Sam sighed. They’d need to work on sharing. A lot.
“My sand.” Nicky pointed at Rosie with a rigid finger.
Rosie bossing and Nicky reacting like this was a familiar skirmish, and Sam was growing tired of the conflict, especially when it involved silly things like sand. He did his best to keep his patience. “Hey, now, you two, let’s calm down. There’s enough sand for everyone.” Sounded logical.
Nicky bent and picked up a handful of sand. “My sand,” he said again, holding his hand up, obviously getting ready to hurl it at Rosie again.
“Nicky, do not throw that sand at your sister,” Sam commanded, shaking a finger.
Nicky wound up—
“Nicky?” Allison called. “How about I push you on the swing?”
Nicky’s gaze swung toward Allison just as Sam’s did.
“Swing?” Nicky asked, lowering his fistful of sand.
“Sure.” Allison crooked a finger. “I’d love to give you a fun ride, with my very special touch.”
Nicky dropped the sand at his feet, on to more attractive things, apparently. “Okay. I am special.” He ran to the swings and held up his arms to Allison. “Help me up.”
Figuratively, Sam’s jaw fell. Allison made refereeing the kids look so easy. So second nature for her. He looked at her, blinking, feeling like the parenting idiot Teresa always accused him of being.
As she lifted Nicky into the swing, she mouthed the word distraction.
“Ah,” he murmured. Smart woman. He needed to pay attention to her. Should be easy, considering how much he enjoyed being around her. And the twins. They enjoyed her, too.
Sam sat down on the edge of the sandbox and played with Rosie as she shaped sand into mountains. He kept one eye on Allison and Nicky—well, maybe both eyes, but who was keeping score?
In no time at all Allison had Nicky gently swinging, with a few easy spins thrown in for that special touch she spoke about. Nicky giggled and kicked his feet in obvious delight.
Just about the time Rosie had her third mountain completed, she started to whine and rub her eyes with the backs of her hands. Tiredness was setting in after their fun evening, and the kids’ bedtime was looming. Time to go. He only hoped he could get Nicky out of the park without a tantrum.
Sam stood. “I think it’s time to head home, kids.”
Nicky howled. “Nooo!” There it was, his usual reaction—argue and throw a fit. “I want to stay!” His face reddened and Sam knew tears would be next; Nicky was nothing if not predictable. Sam’s brain scrambled for a way to deal with his son’s behavior. Cajoling? Bribery? Discipline? Nothing much worked reliably, and he was out of ideas.
Before he could come up with a plan, Allison caught the swing and stopped Nicky. “Are you sure? ’Cause if you cooperate with your dad, I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the car.”
“Piggyback?” Nicky said.
“You bet,” Allison replied. “But you have to mind your dad, all right?”
“Okay.” Appeased, Nicky scooted out of the swing and held his arms up. “I love piggyback.”
Sam was dumbfounded.
Allison knelt. “Okay, then, Mr. Nicky.” She gestured to her back. “Climb on and maybe we can pretend I’m your horse.”
“Me, too.” Rosie clambered to her feet, smashing one of her carefully crafted sand mountains in the process. “I want a horsey piggyback, Daddy.”
“Okay, Rosie.” He knelt and crouched way down. “Get on my back and maybe we can race Miss Allison and Nicky.”
“Race!” Rosie crowed as she crawled onto his back. “I will win!”
“Yeah, we race!” Nicky squealed, clearly willing to go with the flow for something fun. Wasn’t it amazing how fast toddlers’ attention shifted when presented with entertaining options? Allison was a master at that tactic, whereas he usually just did what his own dad had done and imposed his will on them. Not that Dad was ever mean or abusive, but it had been clear who was boss in the Franklin household.
Allison’s approach was clearly better, and he marveled at her creativity in dealing with the twins. He’d better pay attention.
He rose, and Allison moved over next to him with Nicky on her back. “Okay, are you two ready for a race?” she asked with a brilliant smile that had Sam’s heart twitching.
“I’m ready!” Nicky kicked his feet at Allison’s hips. “Let’s go.”
“I’m ready, too,” Rosie announced, bouncing on Sam’s back like a real cowgirl. “Go!”
Sam looked at Allison. “You ready?”
Suddenly, she jerked sideways and started running. “See ya later!” she yelled over Nicky’s squeals.
Dead surprise froze Sam for a few seconds. Why, that little schemer, she’d jumped the gun.
“Run, Daddy, run!” Rosie said, kicking her legs at his sides.
Belatedly, he broke into a trot as he tightened his hands on Rosie’s lower legs to hold her in place. “Hold on, Rosie-girl! I’m gonna have to run fast to catch up.”
Rosie giggled and bounced. “Okay, Daddy! Geeyup!” she said, mangling giddyup in her cute little way.
He moved along as fast as he could, but Allison had a pretty good head start and seemed to have the whole piggyback-horsey thing down to a science. She ran smoothly yet with purpose, keeping Nicky firmly on her back, whereas Sam had to slow down to keep Rosie from tumbling off.
How did Allison do that?
By the time he reached the edge of the park, which bordered the parking lot of the Everything, Allison was already around the corner, presumably reaching his car in record time.
He picked up the pace as he hit the parking lot, squeezing Rosie’s legs harder, hoping to make up time with a final push. But, sure enough, as he rounded the corner, he saw Allison and Nicky reach the car. Nicky’s shrieks of glee echoed in the dusk-tinged air.
A few seconds later, Sam arrived at the race finish, breathing hard. Rosie was giggling so much she seemed incapable of speaking. Nicky was bouncing on Allison’s back, his face split into a delight-fueled smile.
Allison appeared barely winded.
“You
