This happens sometimes. Weekend friends making weekday plans Isla can’t join. It’s just one of those things.
“It’s fine,” Isla says, forcing a smile. “I’ll be in Bannock. Besides, I’ve got dancing on Mondays anyway.”
A juice carton tips over into the middle of the table, prompting a chorus of groans as everyone scrambles for napkins. Isla giggles when Rosie insists it wasn’t her fault, and just like that, the awkward moment passes. By the time the spill is sorted, everyone’s laughing again, and before long our plates are cleared.
“Right then, Captain Isla,” I say, pushing back from the table. “Shall we continue our adventure? I believe there were Highland sharks on the loose.”
Isla shakes her head as she slides off her chair. “I want all the kids to play hide and seek instead.”
Result. I wouldn’t mind having a seat for a while longer. “Brilliant idea. Enjoy!”
“Oh, you have to play too, Daddy. You all hide. I’ll count.”
“Er, what about these three?” I gesture towards Douglas, Lachlan, and Blair. “Are they part of the game too?”
Douglas gives me a look that could freeze the North Sea.Don’t even think about dragging me into this, it says.
“They’re too old,” Isla declares with the authority of someone who’s decided thirty is basically deceased.
“Too old?” Blair exclaims. “Your dad is older than me!”
“Yes, but he’s my dad. He has to play.”
The logic is flawless, apparently.
“All right,” Blair says, fighting back a smile. “Well, go on. We’ll watch from here.”
Traitors, the lot of them.
Isla covers her eyes and starts counting loudly. “One! Two! Three!”
The twins scatter like startled pigeons. Logan dives behind a padded cylinder while Rosie crawls into a tunnel. Finn, bless him, freezes until Lachlan hisses at him to hide.
Right, where the hell does a six-foot-three man hide in a soft play designed for people under four feet tall?
Hmm... the ball pit. It’s my only option. Not that it’s a particularly good one.
I head over and wade in. Sinking down, I arrange the balls until I’m basically just a nose and a tuft of hair in a sea of garish colours.
“Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen!” Isla calls from the table.
From the top of the twisty slide, a woman’s voice drifts down, calm and coaxing. “It’s safe, Lily. I promise. Look, why don’t I go first, okay?”
I shift, parting a few plastic balls to peek out, and glimpse her—the polished woman from earlier. Without her heeled boots, obviously. No shoes on the equipment.
She pushes off, disappearing into the yellow tube with an “Oh!” of surprise.
Done up like she’s heading to a wine bar, but still happy to shoot down a slide just to show her wee girl it’s safe? That shouldn’t be attractive. And yet here we are.
The slide spits her out at the bottom, and she’s just standing up, laughing and calling up, “See? Easy!”—when a small missile in pigtails shoots down after her.
“Wheeeee!”
The wee girl crashes straight into her mum’s back, sending the woman stumbling forwards—and tumbling directly into my lap.
Balls fly everywhere. I sit up fast, hands instinctively catching her waist, steadying her. She lies across my legs, twisted just enough that I can see her face—wide-eyed and mortified.
“Well,” I say, grinning down at her, “if this is your way of saying hello, I’m intrigued.”
