‘I’d better go get ready so I’m not late to pick them up.’ He didn’t wait for her answer, hanging up and throwing an arm over his face. He had all sorts of aches and pains after the fire yesterday, and the last thing he wanted to do was go to church with Hell’s personal minions.
He showered quickly, washing his hair again in case he hadn’t managed to get all of the smoke stench out, and dressed quickly in some plain pale denim jeans and a white shirt that looked as if it might have shrunk a little in the wash, but he didn’t care. It was Sunday school, for crying out loud. Like he needed to be in his Sunday best to colour in with the kids.
He made sure the ute was clean and the car seats were still safely installed on the back seat before hurrying to Brayden’s cute three bedroom home in the northern suburbs. It was sickly stereotypical, complete with sprawling lawns and little white picket fence that would be hard pressed to keep a small dog in, let alone an intruder out, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to have a small white picket fence like all the other houses and be a doctor like all the other little house husbands. It was not the life Ashley pictured for himself, nor what he had expected when Brayden had left home at seventeen to join the army. But he was happy, so who was Ashley to point out he’d turned into a Stepford.
The door slammed open and Jay came sprinting out in board shorts and an outrageously orange shirt. The kid was cute with his head of blonde curls and big blue eyes. He was also a demon in disguise who’d attempted to blow up his grandmother’s house by putting a can of deodorant in the oven to cook. But somehow the brat turned that into everyone thinking Ashley was somehow bad at his job instead of Brayden being a forgetful parent who let his son run wild.
‘Emma smashed my Milleni Alcon!’ He screamed at Ashley, as if he could do anything about it, or even knew what he was talking about.
‘You had a Millenium Falcon? From where? Since when?’
‘Uncle Joel bought it for me! But Emma smashed it!’ He was borderline wailing and Ashley was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
‘Well, I’m sure she didn’t mean it …’
‘Of course she meant it! I melted her My Little Pony in the microwave so she smashed it!’
‘I think they call that revenge, buddy.’ Ashley patted Jay on the shoulder and led him back toward the house, where similar childish wailing was occurring. Something along the lines of ‘No, daddy, ponies don’t look better without faces!’ and ‘No, daddy, I don’t want to bandage its head because its head is gone.’
Kelly was standing over the sink, shoulders shaking but Ashley knew better. She was hiding her laughter, letting Brayden deal with the mini disaster.
‘Seriously, it’s eight in the morning.’
‘And they’ve been up since six,’ Kelly agreed, turning to smile brightly at him and coming over to give him a hug and look him up and down. ‘Mum said you were in a fire yesterday! Are you okay?’
‘It’s my job …’
‘It’s a fire.’ Fair enough. He waved her off and turned in time to see Emma march into the room dressed as the magic pudding. His eyes went wide and he slapped a hand over his mouth as quickly as he could, biting his thumb when she stormed over to him, looked up and burst into tears, holding up a headless pony with a melted mass attached to its chest that was likely once it’s head.
‘Uncle Ash, he killed Petoona!’
‘It’s Petunia, pudding,’ Kelly corrected but Emma only wailed more, slamming the pony remains into Ashley’s knee over and over. He reached down and caught her hands, kneeling in front of her to examine the damage, wondering how Jay had managed to only melt the head. He must have dipped it in something before he put it in the microwave, but Ashley wasn’t sure what.
‘She doesn’t look so bad,’ he tried to reason with his niece, who froze momentarily, a look of stunned disbelief on her face before she slammed the pony into his head and screeched in his face.
‘She doesn’t have a face, Uncle Ash! Petoona has no face!’
‘Petunia, pudding,’ Kelly corrected. Emma screamed at her mother, threw her pony at her father, kicked her brother and ran out of the house. Hopefully the white picket fence would keep her contained.
‘I guess I’ll see you after your appointment?’ Ashley stared longingly at the door, wondering if it was too late to make a run for it.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll get distracted at Sunday school. Watch Jay, he likes to eat the crayons they have. Says they taste like chocolate, then he gets the runs and shits rainbow crap everywhere.’
‘What the hell sort of chocolate are you giving him?’
‘Ha!’ Kelly shoved him out the door, pushed Jay out with him and then slammed it in his face.
‘Why is she dressed as a pudding?’ He called through the wood, watching Emma run around the front yard chasing a plover, literally in a pair of stockings and Mary Janes, with a giant pudding costume on. Emma … not the plover.
‘She read The Magic Pudding again before bed and decided she wanted to be a pudding because Uncle Taylor always says he likes pudding at Christmas,’ Kelly said through the door and Ashley sighed, shook his head and went to the ute. He barely had his own door open before Jay was in the back, strapping into his car seat and Emma was trying to climb up, pudding costume too fat to fit through the door.
‘Fuck my life …’ He reached past Jay to haul Emma inside, the costume squeezing through and then rebounding into Jay, who squawked about hating pudding. Ashley had to agree with the sentiment.
‘You said a bad word.’ Emma was gasping for air between words.
‘Yeah, well don’t tell Dad.’
‘Mum says it’s bad to lie,’ Jay argued.
‘It’s not lying if you don’t tell them to begin with.’ It probably wasn’t a good sign that Jay shut up and thought about that.
The other parents glared at him where he sat perched at the back of the small hall where they held Sunday school. Ashley didn’t care; it wasn’t like they were his kids. Besides, Emma sat happily colouring in a large Celtic cross, brow furrowed in concentration. She only looked weird because she was dressed as a fat pudding. And sure, Jay had tried to light his first cross picture on fire using the candle by the door, but he seemed to have settled down and at least appeared to be colouring his new copy in, though he was hiding it from everyone so it was hard to be sure.
Besides, the other parents were supposed to go in to church not sit at the back keeping an eye on their angels. They were using supervision as an excuse not to have to listen to the sermon. At least Ashley had a valid excuse; his kids really did require supervision. The nun had told him so when he turned up and went to abandon them and go listen to the sermon, demanding he stay and ensure Jay didn’t try and cut off Bree Hanson’s hair. Again. Brayden hadn’t told any of them about that little gem, and Ashley stored it away for the next family barbeque.
‘Uncle Ash? I don’t feel good …’ He looked up, startled to find Jay in front of him. There was red crayon all around his mouth that made Ashley frown, searching Jay’s hands in vain for the offending writing utensil. It wasn’t there, and Jay’s tongue was awfully red. So were his teeth when Ashley stuck his hands in his nephew’s mouth to check.
‘You ate it.’
‘I didn’t!’ Wow, loud.
‘Yes you did.’
‘I didn’t!’ Getting louder.
‘Then you’re not going to the bathroom.’
‘But I didn’t eat it!’ He exploded, stomping his feet and raging. Ashley stood there and looked around with a sigh. Everyone was staring at him as if he’d shoved the crayon down the kid’s throat and forced him to chew. He looked over at the drawing Jay had been working on and saw Jay had put flames all around the bottom of the cross and drawn over the cross with a girl’s face.
‘Jeez, kid, what did Bree Hanson do to you?’
‘I didn’t eat it!’
‘Whatever,’ Ashley tossed Jay over one shoulder and fireman carried him through to the bath
room, plonking him down in front of the toilet. He promptly shoved a finger down the kid’s throat.
‘Uncle Ash, what are you doing?’ Emma slipped under his arm at the same moment red vomit exploded out of Jay, raining down the side of Emma’s pudding costume, making it look like she’d been stabbed. The red vomit kept coming, splattering the bathroom stall, hardly any of it landing in the bowl like it was supposed to.
‘That is disgusting!’ Emma shrieked, trying to get away, but between Ashley’s bulk, the toilet, Jay squirming and her pudding costume she remained stuck in the firing line.
Ashley stood in the toilet stall, red puke sliding down the wall, Emma gaping at them both and Jay groaning, sweaty and pale in his arms and sighed. His day could not get any worse, and it had barely started.
‘Here,’ a kind voice held out a handful of wet paper towel and Ashley took it gratefully, barely glancing at the bemused mother standing in the open doorway, clutching her own son’s hand. Her very neat, tidy and not puked on son, Ashley had time to notice. He cleaned Jay up as best he could, made an attempt at the stall and then gave up. That was what cleaners were for.
‘Thanks.’ He did his best to smile at the very kind woman without terrifying her with the vomit all over his hands.
‘You’re in the boy’s toilet!’ Emma gasped at the woman, running out of the room, leaving a trail of small red drips behind her.
‘Gross,’ Jay grumbled and Ashley poked him in the side.
‘Remember that next time you want to eat the stupid crayon. It’s poisonous, dopey.’
‘But it smelled like strawberries.’
‘Did it taste like strawberries?’
‘No?’
‘Then don’t eat it!’ Seriously, this was a doctor’s kid? Wasn’t IQ supposed to be hereditary or something? The kind mother was trying to smother her laughter and failing, so Ashley left her to it, hurrying out to the lawns at the back of the church where they usually had a BBQ. It wasn’t hard to find Emma; he followed the blood trail. That was seriously what it looked like, and when he found her she was standing near the priest, a sausage in one hand, mouth covered in tomato sauce, regaling him with the tale of Jay’s upset crayon tummy.
Ashley was about to say something when Emma bellowed unintelligably, abandoned the priest and ran toward the road. Several parents made to intervene, because kids and roads should never mix, but as soon as he looked up Ashley felt nought but relief. Parked by the road was the Riot Squad van, and Emma ran straight for the two foreboding shadows in dark overalls. How she could tell them apart from here, Ashley had no clue. He couldn’t. But she ran for the right, throwing herself into the man’s arms, hoisted high and hugging him tight. Obviously, that one was Taylor.
They weren’t alone. Harris and Hale climbed out of the van behind them, all in their dark overalls and utility belts and big steel capped boots. At a church. The Riot Squad had come to Sunday brunch at Church. Seriously?
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Ashley gaped at them.
‘Language, it’s a church,’ Harris lectured, but he was staring at Emma as if he wasn’t sure she was human.
‘Mum said you had the kids,’ Clay pointed out, as if that were a good explanation for their presence.
‘Plus there’s food,’ Hale added and Ashley groaned. They’d come for a free sausage. His brothers had literally gate crashed the church’s Sunday brunch for free food.
‘Why does Emma look like she got shot? Is this vomit?’ Taylor was looking down at his clothes where Emma was pressed against him and sniffing the pudding costume.
‘Jay ate the red crayons,’ Ashley tried to explain, but they were all looking at him like he was a bad parent and he threw up his hands. ‘They’re not my kids!’
‘Thank God,’ Harris shook his head and made the sign of the cross. Jay went to Clay’s side and hugged his leg, pouting as if everything that had happened was Ashley’s fault and that was the last straw. Ash shook his head and went to get a sausage sandwich. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t already know the twins were the favourite.
He found wholemeal bread, lots of onions and tomato sauce and was about to step out of the way when someone stepped up beside him.
‘Seriously, though? Why is she dressed as a pudding?’ Hale was looking at him in concern, as if he had answers to anything that had happened to him that morning.
‘It was the bedtime story last night. Every Christmas Taylor goes on and on about how much he likes pudding, mostly because he doesn’t, he just thinks it’s funny to watch Hayley make it because she’s hopeless at it. So every time she reads the book, Emma remembers her favourite Uncle Taylor loves pudding and she wants to be a pudding.’
Hale was staring at him as if there had to be more to the story. There wasn’t.
‘That’s crazy.’
‘That’s Emma,’ Ashley corrected. ‘Taylor is Emma’s favourite person.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I mean. That’s crazy.’
‘The dressing as a pudding isn’t crazy?’
‘Nah, my nephew dresses as a crocodile to have a bath every night because he’s scared of getting eaten by a crocodile in the water, so my sister told him the crocodile suit was good camouflage?’ Hale shook his head as if even he couldn’t believe he’d admitted that.
‘So, what … every time he gets in the water he’s dressed as a croc?’
‘Uh … yeah.’
‘I don’t feel so bad about bringing a pudding to church now,’ he admitted with a grin. Hale, once again, seemed surprised by it, stepping back a little and taking a huge bite of his sandwich. But then he was eating the sandwich like he couldn’t simply walk over and get another, and watching it disappear in the man’s mouth was doing awkward things to Ashley’s stomach.
‘So you guys really just came to check on me?’ That hurt, more than he was willing to admit.
‘Shit, no. Maybe Taylor did, but I think he really wanted to see your niece? But they’ve been talking about crashing this Sunday brunch thing at a Church for months. You were merely an excuse to go through with it.’ He looked over at Clay and Taylor piling onions on a small army’s worth of bread and sighed. Emma was talking at them, and Jay was still holding Clay’s hand but Ashley doubted his brothers were even listening, too focussed on food.
‘Kelly’s gonna kill me.’ He imagined the priest calling her tonight and banning every member of the family she’d foolishly married into from ever stepping foot on the Church grounds again.
‘Nah, she’ll just …’ And with no more warning than that, Hale was off. Sprinting across the lawns and vaulting the short brick fence, launching into the road and scooping up the small toddler waddling into the path of the cars careening in all directions in their attempts not to hit the child. Ashley was so stunned he dropped his sandwich. Unbeknownst to him, Jay had returned to his side and he dumped the soggy bread and onions on his nephew’s head. Screeching, running his hands over his head in attempt to brush off the food and only succeeding in rubbing sauce into his hair, Jay ran back to Clay, who was glaring at Ashley, but Ashley wasn’t paying them any attention. Hale wove through traffic like he was water rushing over moving boulders, sliding across a bonnet in a move that looked straight out of Die Hard and landing swiftly back on the sidewalk where a woman was blubbering and screeching at him, demanding to know how he could endanger her child like that.
People sucked, plain and simple. Hale had saved the kid’s life, and Harris turned to tell the mother so in quiet, firm words that somehow managed to calm her down enough that she stormed off and left them alone.
Hale watched her go, hands on hips, shaking his head at whatever Harris said. He didn’t even seem to have broken a sweat. Shaking his head, Ashley walked over and peered down the road where the angry mother was disappearing around a corner.
‘Wow. Ungrateful much?’
‘No one’s ever happy to see a cop,’ Hale noted softly. ‘You shoulda done the rescue. She’d be shouting us all to beers. E
veryone loves Firies.’
Ashley snorted, because that was not his experience. More often than not owners ended up screaming in their faces for letting their homes burn down. Because they were in the business of letting fires get away with whatever they wanted! But he had to admit cops got a worse deal.
‘That was amazing, I didn’t even see that kid.’
‘Neither did I,’ Hale admitted. ‘I heard the car braking and figured something was there.’
Ashley blinked at him, stared over at the road, and then blinked at him again. He was relieved to see Harris doing the same thing.
‘You ran into a road with flowing traffic, without even knowing what was there?’ Harris wanted clarification.
‘Yeah.’
‘What if it was just a piece of paper or something that spooked the driver?’ Harris clearly didn’t understand. Ashley didn’t really blame him.
‘It wasn’t,’ Hale shrugged. Then he frowned. ‘Do you swerve when you see papers floating around? No wonder I’m always getting queasy in the van!’
‘I do not!’ Harris scowled and stormed off to stand with Taylor. Ashley thought that was the dumbest move ever, but didn’t point that out. Harris would meet Emma soon enough, and regret his choice.
‘Still. Nice job,’ Ashley clapped Hale on the shoulder, not surprised to find that while Hale’s shoulders were narrow and lean, they were like tapping a brick wall. He was, after all, in the riot squad.
‘Thanks.’ Hale’s smile was cheeky, a little roguish as if the boy next door got into a fight at whatever club he went to the night before. He had straight white teeth and full lips, with a five o’clock shadow of dark hair starting to show on his square jaw. Ashley felt the desire to run his tongue over the fine hairs and forced himself to turn away, swallowing around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. Since when did he feel the need to lick a man’s jaw to feel the prickle on his tongue? He was going insane.
Rhino Ash (Saturday Barbies Book 2) Page 3
