“Thanks, Ila, I really appreciate it,” a harassed Sandra Wilson said as we headed outside later that afternoon.
“No problem.” I managed a smile, fighting to hold onto two small hands. The flax-headed twins were already trying to break free and probably find their own way to the park. With her husband stationed in Afghanistan, it was tough on her, raising the three-year-olds alone.
Ray always helped. Me, sometimes. We’d take the kids for a while but made a point not to keep them indoors. They created chaos, and nothing was safe. The playground? Nope, they couldn’t break anything there.
“Come-come.” Peter tugged at my hand, with Iris emulating him on the other side, and I held on for dear life so they wouldn’t topple me down the steps to the curb.
“You’d better go, or they’ll drag you there.” Sandra gave me a wry smile. She was a year older than me, but appeared frazzled and worn-out.
“Right. Enjoy the break. I’ll see you later.”
Hanging onto the children’s hands and moving in a fast trot was a feat in itself. But I managed not to let them escape as we power-walked toward the kiddie’s playground a few blocks from my apartment.
“Isn’t it a pretty day?” I panted, enjoying the warm sun on my skin. There was no sign of Max. Heck, I couldn’t visualize a badass like him being interested in taking the kids to the playground. He was probably more at home in bars—drinking, fighting, and flirting with women…
“Can we have ice cream later? Can we, can we, La?” Peter bounced up and down, pulling at my arm, yanking me back from a thought that had my stomach dropping.
“Ice cream, ice cream,” Iris chorused. Probably thought I didn’t get the memo.
“Okay,” I relented. “But only if you walk and not run. I’m not fit for this kind of exercise.” My wry comment floated over their heads. The only exercise I had was running to work so I wouldn’t be late.
“Kitty-kitty,” Iris screamed, pointing at a scrawny tabby sidling along the sidewalk. “Wanna pet. Come, La.”
Oh, man. “Look, there’s the park.” And there went the pulling again. Finally, we reached the place edged with trees with my limbs intact.
Peter broke free first and darted off like a holy terror for the swing. I prayed he wouldn’t fall flat on his face. Iris’s small fingers tightened like a miniature vise on mine. “Want that, that, andthat!” She pointed, her chubby finger moving fast from the slides to the swings to God knew what was in the trees. “La, come-come.”
Before Iris sprouted wings and flew off, I scooped her into my arms. “Let’s try the slide, okay? Peter, wait until I help you on the swing—”
“Hey.”
At the sound of his voice, I spun around with Iris clutching my neck. “Max?”
Green eyes twinkled in amusement. “You look surprised. Said I’d be here, didn’t I? Can’t let the ankle-biters annihilate you.” His gaze slid to Iris, squirming in my arms. “Ah, I see you have her restrained.”
I struggled to hold back my smile. “I was about to put her on the slide. “You’ve been at the gym the entire morning?”
His mouth tightened briefly, and he shook his head. “No. I had other things to take care of. And I checked in at school.”
Oh, right. Ray had mentioned he’d been in South America for a few months. I was curious as to why anyone would take off during school, but before I could ask, a sharp cry had me spinning around.
Oh, shit. Sandra was going to kill me. Peter lay sprawled on the ground, wailing loudly. He must have tried getting on the swing by himself. My stomach churning, I sprinted over. Iris started yelling her head off at her brother crying.
But Max was there before me. He dropped his tote to the ground. “Hey, buddy…” He gently helped Peter up. “What happened?”
Peter continued bawling, pointing to his grazed knee.
“I’m Max. I’ll fix that for you,” he said, drawing his bag close while I held onto Iris’s wiggling body. “I got one of those, too, when I was your age. See?” Max pulled up one leg of his sweats.
Peter slowed the wailing. Wide, watery, blue eyes stared at Max as he showed him the old scar on his left knee. On the back of his muscular calf, the wordThrashedwasinked lengthwise.
He glanced up, caught me looking, and winked. Heat flooded my face, I lowered Iris to her feet and pulled out a tissue from my pants pocket. She crouched near Peter, her tearful gaze on his injury as I carefully wiped away the slight, bloody scrape.
“You fell, too?” Peter asked Max.
Max nodded, retrieving a Band-Aid from his tote. “My mom pushed my swing, but I wanted to go faster. She said no, I could fall and get hurt. I jumped off, tripped, and got hurt anyway. My fault. I didn’t listen. Couldn’t cry over that. So I think of it as a war badge. It’s what makes us big and strong—”
“Like you?”
