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Her hair tie had long since come undone, and a wispy, blond hurricane danced on top of her little head as she toddled along in front of me. I constantly scanned the environment. Where there were too many people, I scooped her up in my arms.
Some of those enclosures left much to be desired.
Honestly, should a person be able to throw a baby over the fence the way I pictured throwing Brayleigh over?
Okay, there was a second enclosure, but that would do nothing if she poked her tiny arm through the fence to pet the ‘pretty kitty’, a scenario that played out in my head in technicolor more than once as we circled the park.
By the time we made our way to the car, Brayleigh was beyond exhausted. No matter what she did, no matter what happened, Lucky’s mood never faltered. Steady as the sun and just as bright.
The same could not be said for Dolly.
She screamed and dug her heels into the seat, bucking her little hips up as I tried to secure the straps.
“Sit down, sweetheart. We’re going to go home and play in the tubby. Is that a good idea?”
Too far gone, she couldn’t hear me and wouldn’t be able to calm down even if she did.
I remembered how Alex freaked out about the car seat when he was overtired or overwrought. Strongarming Brayleigh into the seat did not feel right, but she had to be buckled in so we could leave.
I lifted her up into my arms again to try to soothe her, but she arched back, wanting down to run. Too many hours in the sun. Over-stimulated. Hot, hungry, tired, and wired.
Lucky had already packed all of our stuff back into the car and was on his way back from paying at the parking kiosk.
I had foolishly offered to buckle Brayleigh into the seat.
“Okay, Dolly,” I murmured. “We’ve got to get you in.”
I tickled her tummy until she buckled then flipped the straps over her shoulders and strapped her in.
For half a second, she laughed, then noting her confinement, she screamed out her fury, beating her little fists on the sides of the seat.
“Okay, darling,” I soothed. “How about a bottle of juice? I think we can make an exception for a day bottle. What do you think?”
I fumbled with the diaper bag, pulling the bottle of juice I’d frozen the night before for just this moment.
Her attention stumbled onto the bottle, and she reached for it, her breath hiccoughing.
Lucky draped his arm over my shoulders with a smile. “Ah, the cost of an exciting day.” Patting my ass, he moved to open the driver’s side door. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
My heart galloped in my chest. “Don’t you want to check the car seat?” I asked.
He shot me a questioning look before glancing at the straps briefly then tried to shut Brayleigh’s door. “You got it. You know what you’re doing. I don’t need to check it. The sooner we get her home, the better.”
I searched his face. Other than a bit tired, he looked relaxed and happy. I wished I could siphon some of it off of him for myself. Just a bit. Not enough that he’d even notice the difference, but I might.
I pushed open her door, checked the latch, and ran my fingers underneath the straps to check for snugness. My throat tightened. I tried to clear it. “Does this look good to you?”
“Yeah, baby. It looks good.”
I turned to him, but his eyes were on his cell, checking the traffic report for our route home.
Brayleigh’s tiny body, thrown through the windshield, bruised, broken, and bleeding on the ground, so small, so still.
The gory details bled through my brain, the picture so clear in my mind I almost expected to see her tiny form on the pavement in front of the car.
“Lucky,” I said tightly. “I need you to check the car seat.”
“Hm?” His eyes scanned his screen. “Okay. We’re going to take the 407. Come on, baby.”
