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Her tiny legs take her faster than the rest of her body can manage. She face-plants in the sand. I hurry over and scoop her up, wiping her face and swooping her through the air and making airplane sounds before she starts to cry.
My trick works. I get giggles from her instead of tears. I catalogue the moment as a victory.
Sparkle goes around the park, bossing me around, demanding that I push her on the swing and help her to the top of the graffiti-covered kiddie slide.
We really need to find whoever is vandalizing this damn park.What kind of idiot goes around drawing penises on every surface of a playground? Come on.
When my niece is adequately tuckered out, she heads back to her stroller, climbs in and sits there, waiting for me with her hands folded primly in her lap.
I can’t help but laugh again. Her confidence is entertaining and impressive to watch. My niece is definitely a little lady who knows exactly what she wants.
I wipe her hands with some wet wipes. I buckle her back into her stroller and we make our way down Main Street.
After a while, I’m no longer trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. I even have a brief conversation or two with the locals who stop to say ‘hi’ and marvel at how adorable the girl is.
She basks in the attention, babbling happily the whole way and pointing at whatever catches her eye in the colorful storefronts. And I can’t deny that hanging out with this sassy character has really lifted my mood.
On the way to Jasper’s shop, we pass by Hot Dog Almighty. The little girl flings her ziplock snacks to the sidewalk and demands, “Fwench fwies, Davis?”
Jeez. What a diva. “You want French fries, Sparks?”
“Yas!Fwench fwies,” she shrieks adorably and I chuckle.
I hesitate. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’s almost supper time.
She sticks out her lip and bats her eyes at me. “Fwench fwies…?” she negotiates.
And I’m a goner. Because who can resist that charm? What Sparkle wants, Sparkle gets.
So we grab an order of French fries and I sit on a roadside bench, holding the food for her. She merrily stuffs her face and makes a mess with the ketchup.
True—my brother probably won’t appreciate that I let his daughter load up on fast food right before dinner time. But come on—as her uncle, it’s basically in my job title to give her everything she wants and spoil her rotten before handing her back to her parents.
She’s covered in sand, sweat and ketchup when we finally make it to Jasper’s shop. But she’s wearing the dopiest grin on her face. I won’t lie—I am, too. And that’s a major improvement over how I’ve been feeling the past few days.
Through the open service bay door, I see my brother hard at work. He glances over his shoulder when he hears us approaching.
He sets down his wrench and comes stomping across the oil-stained lot.” He crouches down in front of his daughter. “Hey, Sparks.” He kisses her head. “You look like you crawled through the trenches to get here.” Jasper shoots me a look. “Jesus—I told you to pick her up from school. Not enlist her in battle.
I laugh. “What a lovely greeting,” I spit out.
Jasper grins sheepishly. “Thanks, man. You saved my butt today.”
Sparkle tugs on her dad’s pants. “Davis,Fwench fwies,” she tells him, grinning her little teeth.
Seriously? My niece is a snitch, y’all.
Jasper glares at me. I glare at him.
“You’re welcome.” I smack the back of his big head.
“You mind bringing her around the other side to the reception desk? My secretary will keep an eye on her while I finish up here.”
“Sure thing.” Pushing the stroller, I go around the side of the building to enter through the main entrance.
I catch sight of a silver Volkswagen SUV parked on the far side of the lot. AnI heart anything with pawssticker on the bumper. It’s like getting punched in the chest. Hard. My mind wanders to the one person I vowed not to think about anymore. But that’s an impossible task, isn’t it?
Hic…! Hic…! Hic…!
