Page 68

Story: When We Met

“Because,” she groans dramatically. “Where’s Sev? She can do it.”
“You won’t get the cookies.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m scared,okay?”
“Fine. Don’t do it. But no cookies.”
“I don’t even want them,” she grumbles, crawling down from my toolbox. Fuck. Now what?
I glance over my shoulder. “Sev? We need you, kid.” I don’t know why I’m enlisting the help of my kids. But I can tell you this much. Watch out when the little one gets involved. She’s three feet of nuthouse.
Am I going to hell for this?
Yes. The answer is yes.
Do I care?
Nope.
I find Sev near the open bay doors outside. “Kid, come here.”
“I got a name, dude,” she barks, running over to me with what looks to be snow in her hands. She stops in front of me, her nose and cheeks bright red from the cold. Poor kid is really struggling with this cold weather and the wind. “I got you dis,” Sev tells me, handing me a handful of yellow snow.
Yellow. Snow. I want to laugh that she picked up yellow snow outside, but I’m more disgusted she’s holding it in her bare hand. “Sev, gross.”
She looks at the snow, and then, before I can stop her, fucking takes a bite out of it. “What? It’s pretty.”
I knock it out of her hands. “It’s yellow because that’s pee.”
She looks at the snow, then me, her brow furrowed, and then tears surface. Full-blown alarm over pee snow. I can’t say I blame her, but, come on, what the fuck did she expect eating yellow snow? Right. She’s three.
After having her wash her mouth out and drink a bottle of water, I hold her in my arms. “I got a job for you.”
“I don’t wants a job,” she whines, her tears starting to dry. “I’m too small.”
“You’re not for this one. I’ll give you cookies.” I hold up the box Lara Lynn brought in this morning for the guys.
Her eyes light up, and she sucks in a hiccupped breath. I’m a sucker for this kid and her tears. My heart melts anytime I see those bright blues tear up. “I have them?”
I nod. “Yep. Ten of them if you want.”
“Whats I gotta do?”
“See Kacy’s car?”
She looks at the car, the cookies, and then me again. “Yes.”
“Let the air out of the tires,” I whisper.
You might be thinking, how’s a three-year-old knows how to do this? We’ve done this before. Went out to dinner one night and a douche hit the side of my truck with his car door. Didn’t give one fuck that he dented my door with his. While I talked to him about the cattle he was carrying in his trailer, I had the girls let the air out of his tires.
Again, I know I’m going to hell. You don’t have to remind me of this.
Sev agrees, lets the air out of the tires with no questions, and then holds out her hand. “Cookies.”
I hand the entire box over to her. “Share with your sister.”
“No way. Des are all mine.” And then she takes off into the office.