Page 66 of Tackle

“Oz Olson, I think you might know more about kids than you think. Ice cream should always be a part of any solution.”

After loading the car and making a stop at the store, it took almost half an hour to reach Linc’s high-rise apartment that overlooked the Willamette River.

“I appreciate you coming,” Linc said as he opened the door, ushering Oz and Emerson in. “She’s in her room. I can’t get her to come out.”

“Would you like me to go check on her?” Emerson asked.

“Yes. Please. Her room’s right through there.” Linc pointed at a door, left ajar, at the end of the hallway off the entry.

Emerson placed her hand on Oz’s arm. “Why don’t you and Linc go scoop a bowl of that ice cream.”

Oz followed Linc into the kitchen and pulled the tub from the convenience store bag, setting it on the counter.

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Linc said, pulling a spoon from a drawer and handing it to Oz.

“Probably because ice cream has never once stepped foot in this apartment.”

Linc chuckled, taking a bowl down from the cupboard. “True.”

Oz saw something on his face. “Hey. How you holding up?”

Linc set the bowl down and leaned his hands on the counter, push-up style, hanging his head. “Not good, man. The only positive thing right now is that the paps have finally decided to move the fuck on.” He let out a deep breath. “You know my sister meant the world to me. I can feel her absence here,” he pounded on his chest. “Sophie is hurting too, but I don’t know what to do about it. And I’m sure it doesn’t help that everything in her life keeps changing. I’ve already lost one nanny because she was more interested in me than Sophie and I’m not having better luck with the new one the service sent over.” He shook his head, looking disgusted. “My whole world changed with a phone call. Sometimes I wonder if Nat would still be alive today if I never would’ve answered it.”

Oz placed a hand on Linc’s shoulder.

“I feel like I’m drowning in quicksand.” He got Linc’s eyes. The agony Oz saw in them was palpable and his heart was breaking for his friend.

“I can’t begin to know what you’re feeling, but I’m here to help in any way you need.”

Linc dipped his head. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I mean it, man, anything.”

He nodded and silence descended between them, each lost in thought, until Linc said, “Hey, you hear that?”

Oz listened but didn’t hear anything. He shook his head.

“Sophie’s stopped crying.”

Sure enough, silence filled Linc’s apartment. “Better get this dished up.”

Oz dug a big scoop out of the confetti ice cream. Emerson had picked it, claiming that even though she might not know kids, being one once, she knew all little girls loved sprinkles. And with the riot of colors now decorating the bowl, he couldn’t see how anyone wouldn’t be cheered.

Oz poked his head through the partially opened bedroom door, scoping out the situation before going in. Emerson sat on the edge of the bed, next to Sophie who lay on her side, arm wrapped around a baby doll, and with her thumb in her mouth. But she wasn’t sleeping. Her eyes were focused on Emerson who spoke calmly and softly, chatting away about something he couldn’t quite hear.

The door squeaked a little as he pushed it open, grabbing both girls’ attention.

A smile lit Emerson’s face as she looked back down at Sophie. “Look, Oz brought you ice cream.”

Sophie didn’t make any move to sit up or show any interest in the treat as Oz had hoped. All she did was blink, training her gaze on the bowl.

“Do you like ice cream, Sophie?” Emerson waited a beat and when the little girl didn’t respond, she asked, “What’s your favorite flavor?” She took it in stride when Sophie still didn’t respond, saying, “My favorite is chocolate chip.” She tipped her head, tapping her chin. “Or maybe cookies and cream. I wonder what kind Oz brought.”

Emerson looked over at him and he realized that was his cue. “Oh,” he stood from his slouch, “vanilla with sprinkles.”

“What do you think? Would you like some?” Emerson’s eyes widened and she gestured to Oz with a come-over-here tip of her head.

He walked toward the bed with the bowl held out in front of him, careful to lighten his step. He was a big guy and knew that could be intimidating. And even though he’d spent some time with Sophie over the past few weeks so he wasn’t a stranger, he was invading her space and didn’t want to frighten her. He squatted by the side of the bed.

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