Page 7 of Holding You
My initial instinct is to say yes, but then a six-foot shadow falls over her as her father steps up behind her.
My eyes fall to his tattooed arms and travel upward, taking in his sculpted muscles, the way he stands with such confidence. His ocean-blue eyes shining under his backward hat are focused on me.
My gaze sweeps over his shirt and dark blue jeans and falls to his shoes before I finally return my attention to Max.
“I’m sure her dad has something fun planned for her, it being the last day of school and all. Another night, okay?”
Max lets out an exaggerated sigh but nods.
Guilt hits me immediately.
“Okay, parents!” Principal John says into a megaphone. “It’s time for the traditional challenge against your kids. The tug-of-war!”
Kids start to cheer, and parents slowly rise from their seats.
What’s happening?
This wasn’t a thing when I was a kid.
“Come on, Mom,” Max says with a big smile.
I love his smile, and I love even more that I have seen it every day since he made a friend.
I follow behind him, taking the other parents’ lead.
“Alright, parents, line up opposite your kids. Max, you’re at the front on the kids’ side, so Ruby, that means you’re at the front for the parents and so on,” Principal John clarifies and then starts shouting orders toward another area of the parking lot.
Max gets in line, and more kids do the same. I stand waiting while my son makes silly faces at me. I return them, of course.
“Are we ready?” Principal John asks. I spot Susie behind Max and then freeze. If Susie is behind Max, then that means …
Slowly, I look over my shoulder.
Yep, there’s Declan. Right behind me. His eyes are crossed, and his cheeks are puffed out. He is clearly making faces at my son now.
I poke him.
“Stop.”
“Jesus, Ruby.” Declan holds his hand to his side where I poked him. “Was that your nail?”
“Focus.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s just a fun kids’ game. Lighten up.”
I narrow my gaze at him and then spin around.
Max gives me a thumbs-up, and the principal starts a countdown from five.
I grip the rope and plant my feet.
“Go!”
I pull with all my might, as I assume the parents behind me do as well.
“Young! Pull for all of us!” someone from the back shouts.
“I’m trying!” he shouts back.
