AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“A crawling race for babies.”
“A race?” His face split in a grin. “Now we’re talking.” He tossed Petie up in his arms, tucked him like a potato sack in the crook of his elbow, and turned toward the Diaper Derby arena. “Greatness moves on to the next generation of Travelers.”
“Kenny, maybe we’d better think about this.” But, for once, she was talking to his back.
The race was being held behind a waist-high barricade on a padded red mat that was about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide with six narrow lanes divided by white lines. One parent positioned the baby at the starting line, while the other parent sat at the finishing line urging the child forward. The first of the six babies to make it was the winner.
“Now, here’s the way we’re going to do this,” Kenny said after he’d studied the layout. “Petie’ll crawl to me faster than you, so you start him off, and I’ll wait for him at the finish line.”
She looked over at the spectators who’d gathered to watch. “I don’t know. Peter wasn’t overjoyed with the petting zoo, and it’s quite noisy here.”
“Petie’s not afraid of a little gallery noise, are you, bro?”
Peter gave a baby chortle and smacked his fist against the Top Flite logo on Kenny’s shirt. Kenny laughed, tossed him up again, and handed him over to Emma.
He went to her easily. Her heart ached as she looked into those bright violet eyes with their tiny fringe of spiky lashes. Despite her years of experience with children, she hadn’t spent much time with babies. Now she felt a pang of longing so intense it surprised her. She pushed the emotion away and watched Kenny head for the opposite end of the mat. She realized he was actually studying the competition, and she hugged Peter a bit tighter. “I’m afraid you’re in for it, luv.”
She could see Kenny dismissing a fairy-sprite of a little girl dressed in a yellow romper with layers of lace across her bottom. Then he passed over a blond-haired baby of indeterminate sex who was desperately clinging to his or her mother. For a moment, his attention lingered on a set of lively chocolate-colored twins, but they seemed more interested in each other than the event.
Suddenly he stiffened. His eyes narrowed, and she could almost hear the theme from Rocky playing in his brain. He’d found the one man who stood between a Traveler and athletic glory.
The challenger had a single spike of red hair shooting up from a nearly bald head. His body was strong and brawny, clad in plaid overalls and a Tigger T-shirt. His feet were encased in a pair of miniature Nikes that pumped as he struggled to get down. Twenty-five pounds of raw dynamite. This was the man to beat.
The you
ng woman in charge gave the instructions. As Emma sat behind the starting line with Peter on her lap, she cast a wary eye at Kenny. He seemed to be taking this a little too seriously.
After one last look at the spike-haired bruiser in the lane next to Peter, Kenny crouched at the finish line and called down to his baby brother. “You’ve got to stay focused. Make them play your game, Petie. A hundred and ten percent. You’ve got to give it a hundred and ten percent.”
The mother of the little girl in the lacy romper looked at Kenny as if he’d escaped from a lunatic asylum.
Emma sighed and stroked the baby’s soft arm, while she tried to catch Kenny’s eye. But his entire focus, all one hundred and ten percent of it, was on the game.
“Ready. Set. Go.” At the command from the starter, Emma set Peter on the starting line and released him.
With a superb display of finely honed Traveler crawling skills, he shot toward his brother.
Kenny slapped the mat. “That’s right! Faster.”
Peter slowed.
“Pick it up, Petie. Let’s go!”
The baby came to a dead stop. Wrinkled his forehead. Plopped back on his bottom.
Kenny held out his arms. “Come on, Petie! Don’t stop now. You’ve got the lead.”
Peter stuck his fingers in his mouth and looked up at the cheering spectators. Kenny’s knee inched forward across the finish line.
Two lanes over, the baby in the androgynous clothes dropped to the mat and began a lazy sideways scoot.
“Let’s go, Petie! Let’s go!” Kenny slapped the mat again as his other knee crept over the finish line.
Peter’s bottom lip sagged in a pathetic quiver.
The red-haired bruiser let out a howl and darted back to the starting line.
Kenny’s brows shot together. “You’ve got it now, Petie! The big man’s DQed!”
