Sutton
“Here you go.Take this coupon down to the diner’s booth and get yourselves a free ice cream cone. Your sister can have one too.”
The two kids excitedly hold out their hands for their prize.
“Thank you, Officer!” The young boy emphasizes his gratitude with a high five.
“Thanks for wearing your helmets. My friends and I will be driving around this summer with more of these coupons, so make sure you wear them when you’re biking.”
“We will!” The little one bobs her head. With a ring of her pink bell, she races off, her brother pedaling after in her dust.
A rare chuckle slips out. This is one of my favorite community events. At the start of summer, the town partners with the police and fire departments to host a safety event. We gather in the parking lot at city hall with the goal of making safety education practical and approachable.
This year, I’ve been assigned to helmet safety, which works well. As a single dad to an eight-year-old, it gives me theopportunity to put eyes on the kids and parents my daughter spends time around and who she might meet in the future. For a small town and someone who works for the community, there aren’t many people I don’t already know, but every so often, a newcomer moves in.
My new nanny, for example.
The thought of her sends a heated prickle up my spine. Not that I have the damnedest clue why. Call it a gut feeling. There’s just something suspicious about her. The fact that she treats my daughter like a princess doesn’t prevent my distrust. Hell, it heightens it.
Maybe my brothers were right. I am a skunk.
I scan the crowd of people milling around, not seeing a familiar black messy bun, and relax my shoulders. The woman is infiltrating my life. The only place I seem to find respite is at my job, and even then, I spend half the day wondering what she’s up to.
Another group rolls to a stop at my station, redirecting my thoughts. I hand out more coupons with my spiel, pausing at the last little hand extended.
“Nellie-Jo, you’ve already been here.”
“Uh-oh,” she says.
“Three times,” I add. Puffing out my chest, I tap my badge. “We like to call that theft.”
“Busted!” The leader at the front yells, pedaling away as if I’m about to turn on my siren. Not sure that bodes well for his future. Two girls chase him on their bikes, laughing as they leave Nellie behind.
“Daddy!” My daughter gives me an angry pout.
“Sorry, Buttercup. One per customer. Why don’t you check out one of the other booths instead?”
Besides bike safety, kids can tour emergency vehicles. They’ve stationed a cruiser, a fire truck, and an ambulance near the back of the lot. It’s a big hit with the younger ones.
The fire department is hosting demonstrations on fire extinguishers, and later, they have a burn demonstration planned to show the effect of keeping doors closed at night. I intend to watch that one with Nellie once I close down here.
Car seat technicians provide car seat safety checks and education to caregivers. There’s a small self-defense demonstration by Officer Calloway taking place in the grass, and beyond it, Officer Marlowe is running a K-9 demonstration, a crowd favorite.
“I’m going to get you back for that,Dad,” she grunts in frustration, opting for the more grown-up version of my title.
Not going to lie, when she makes the full change over, it’s going to fucking hurt.
“Save the revenge for the real criminals.” My lips twitch in a rare smile as she chases down her friends.
During the infrequent free moment, I quench my thirst. The station handed out cold water bottles, though mine is more lukewarm after sitting in the booth. Shielding my eyes, I search for where Nellie biked off to. Even with my mirrored shades, the sun overhead still forces me to squint.
“Hot out here, isn’t it?” A feminine voice draws my attention away from the search.
A sparkly purple bike pulls up beside me. Perched upon the seat is one of Nellie’s dance friends, Maddie, with her light hair tucked into a tight bun. Her older sister, Rylee, brakes beside her on a matching pink bicycle, an equally severe bun on her head.
Their mother, Stephanie, lifts her sunglasses off her face, settling them atop her brown hair, and rakes her sharpened gaze down my torso.
“You look like you could use a drink,” she says, meeting my eyes for a second, only to appraise my body again like I’m the last half-priced designer bag on the rack.