“He’s an escape artist,” the girl with Ellis says, her smile big and effervescent.
I look at her with a questioning smile and Ellis says, “Um, Cass, this is Avery. She’s actually training Pickle.” Avery’s got that dog-person vibe—wearing cutoffs, a vintage sweatshirt, her dark hair in a low braid that manages to be messy and cute. She’s beautiful in that freshly scrubbed way that you can be in your twenties. And she’s got an ass that even I can’t stop looking at. She’s scratching Pickle under the chin and looking at him with big heart-eyes. “Avery, this is Cass. Cassia.”
“Hi.” I look at the dog. “And hi to you, Pickle.” He wiggles his butt some more.
Ozzie and Mica are next to us in an instant, squealing over the dog. Ellis looks down at them, then at me. “Marcella’s kids—Ozzie and Mica,” I clarify. They ignore me as they are consumed by puppy love. Avery takes the dog from Ellis and crouches down so they can pet him.
“He’s very friendly,” Avery says to the kids, and they are enamored.
“Babysitting?” Ellis asks me.
I nod. “We’re starting our weekend of utter chaos with the swan boats.” I am very nervous suddenly. Has Daniel mentioned any interest in me to Ellis? Are there hard feelings? Of all the parks in the city…L.A. can be such a small town, sometimes.
“Good call,” he says. “Tire them out with manual labor.”
“Exactly,” I say with a smile. And then I notice Avery noticing us and I wonder if they’re dating. I’m sure that, at first glance, I just look like some woman he knows. But Ellis…the way he looks at me would make anyone look twice.
“Who are you?” Ozzie is suddenly between us, staring up at Ellis.
“Hey, I’m Ellis,” he says, as if he’s talking to a random adult at a party. “Do you like dogs?”
“I LOVE dogs!” she cries out. “But my dad is ’lergic.”
He frowns. “ ’Lergies suck.”
“They suck!” she relishes that word. He laughs, so incredibly charmed. Watching this interaction makes me feel turned inside-out. “Well, we have to get on the boat,” I say loudly. “Come on, guys. Say bye to Pickle.”
There are protests but I bulldoze over them, and we say goodbye. After tossing our popsicle sticks, we board our boat, and I try my damnedest not to look at Ellis, to keep my eyes on the kids and not have my gaze magnetically drawn to where he might be.
The boats are spacious, like little golf carts on water, and I sit next to Ozzie and pedal with her. I handle the steering so that we don’t accidentally bump into other boats, or the fountain. The kids are loving it, and I bask in their pleasure. I’ve been a part of these kids’ lives since they were in utero, and I relish being their source of fun.
While we float along the perimeter of the lake, I spot Ellis. He and Avery are standing far apart, clapping and urging Pickle to run between them. I guess it could be dog training, but they also look like a couple playing with their dog in the park. I shouldn’t be bothered by it—I havezero rightto be bothered by it. But I am.
“Can I pedal now?” Mica asks, already standing and shoving his head between us.
“Sure, bud,” I say. “Let’s pull over to the side to switch it up. You ready, Oz?”
She nods. “Okaayyy,” she drags out.
I squeeze her shoulder. “Thank you, big generous girl.”
We get the boat over to an uncrowded spot near the docking area and I risk one more glance at Ellis. He and Avery are standingclose, the dog between them. Their heads are almost touching. It’s intimate. Good. Good, she seems incredibly lovely and that’s exactly what he deserves.
Then I hear a splash and my head whips back to the kids just in time to see Mica’s head dip under the water.
“Mica!” I yell. Ozzie starts screaming and I say,“Oz, do not move!”and jump into the water. The water isn’t deep—maybe five feet, but Mica cannot swim. I know this because I’ve heard Marcella complaining about this over the years, and how stressful going to the beach is because of it.
The water is ice cold and probably full of unspeakable things, but I do not think about it as I reach him quickly, and he hasn’t drifted far. But he’s panicking, flailing his limbs, and he pulls on me like a deadweight.
“Mica, please calm down. I’m here, you’re fine,” I say as I try and get ahold of him.
“I can’t swim, I can’t swim!” he screams in my face, his hands grabbing at my hair.
“Babe, I know. It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I say calmly, trying desperately to keep us both above water. Because I’m trying so hard to get a grasp on him, I don’t realize how close we’ve gotten to the boat and one of his flailing arms hits the side. Hard. He screams out in agony, and this is when I start to panic.
Ozzie is now screaming her brother’s name and sobbing and I am trying to get him on the boat when I see blood streaming from his arm.Oh, fuck.
And then a pair of arms is hoisting Mica up onto the boat. When I turn to see who it is, it’s Ellis, of course, beside me in the water. Then, without saying a single thing, he puts his hands on my hips and pushes me up, too. I grab hold of the railing and get up onto theboat. I scramble over to Mica immediately, both of us soaked from head to toe.
