Walking over to Millie, she sat in the seat next to her. “How’s the foot going?”
“It’s going nowhere,” Millie said. “And neither am I.” Her sore foot was elevated on another chair with an ice pack on it. “Hack checked it over, and he said it’s fine.”
“Actually, I said that you look like you’ve twisted it and it’s slightly swollen, and to keep off it and elevate it,” Hack told her sternly. “And you’re going to listen to your Daddy and let him take care of you.”
Millie sighed. “Rats.”
Mr. Fluffy let out a small sigh, almost as though echoing Millie. He was lying at her feet with a pair of earmuffs on. He looked ridiculous and cute at the same time.
The other dogs were in Ink and Betsy’s bedroom which was well soundproofed.
“It’s all right, Mr. Fluffy. I don’t blame you,” Millie told him, reaching down to scratch his head. “You can’t help it if you want a hotdog. I get it. That food you’re eating tastes like shit.”
Sunny let out a surprised giggle. “Poor Mr. Fluffy.”
“Ooh, I think they’re getting ready to set off the fireworks,” Millie said, sounding more cheerful.
“Has anyone seen the boys?” Betsy asked, walking over with Zippy. She sat on a chair on Millie’s other side. “I can’t find them anywhere.” Zippy sat down on a rug that had been laid out on the ground. “I swear, those two are going to give me gray hair.”
“They’re just naughty, Mama,” Zippy told her. “Unlike me. I’m an angel.”
All three women looked down at the little girl in surprise. An angel, huh? Sunny had to hold back another giggle. She wasn’t sure that she would describe Zippy as an angel exactly.
“Ooh, look at that. Here they come,” Zippy said. She squealed and clapped her hands as fireworks started exploding in the sky.
So pretty.
12
FOX, BRODY, AND AUTUMN
The Fox wrapped an arm around each of his babies as the fireworks lit up the sky.
“Oh, they’re so pretty,” Autumn said, gasping with each one that was set off. They were standing far away.
The Fox wasn’t going to risk anything hitting his Bunny or Pup.
“They sure are,” Brody said, adjusting his glasses as he stared up into the sky.
They stayed silent for a long moment, and he just held them tight, spending more time staring down into their faces than he was up into the sky.
“Don’t you think they’re pretty?” Autumn asked.
“Not as pretty as what I’m looking at.”
“Ooh, that was smooth, Sir,” Brody told him.
“I can be a smooth talker.”
They were both silent.
“Sure you can,” Brody said, patting his back.
“Absolutely,” Autumn added, leaning her face into his chest.
Why didn’t he believe they were being sincere?
He was totally smooth, like butter.
