You are the Answer {boyxboy} ✓ (Dogs, Bats & Monkeys series, Book I | Riley)

Chapter 5

A/N: Any ideas for a ship name for Rhys and Riley?

A reminder: four days left to enter my winter-themed contest. Maybe not enough to write a short story but let’s see if you could still manage a one-shot ;)

*****

“I’m kissing my black fiancé; got a problem with that?” Winona shouted and the couple who sat two tables away – a white male and a white female in their forties – turned their attention back to each other. A victorious smile spread on Winnie’s face and she pecked Tim one more time before arming herself with a fork and stabbing a fry. Tim chuckled – a throaty sound – and shook his head at his soon-to-be-wife.

Being an interracial couple meant they had to put up with occasional disapproving or downright disgusted stares. Well, it was Tim who mostly put up with it, ignoring the haters unless they actually insulted him or Winnie. My thirty-one year old female colleague was less tolerant with such narrow-minded people. She would mock and argue with them; amongst her favorite things to do if they happened to be a couple, would be to make gagging noises each time they’d kiss or hold hands. Tim found that going a bit too far, but I could understand Winnie’s perspective; even though I haven’t been judged for dating a person of another race, I’d been condemned for going out with people from the same gender. I knew how discrimination could bring you down and I respected Tim’s patience with such straitlaced characters, but I admired Winnie’s unwavering persistence in opposing those who disapproved of her choice of a fiancé.

The toddler in Shannon’s hands awoke and tried to climb on the table we sat around.

“No, sweetie, you can’t go there,” Shan forbid, pulling her daughter back but the little girl spread her small arms in an attempt to push herself away from mommy and get closer to the table.

“Maybe she just wants to snuggle with her auntie, sis,” Winnie – who sat opposite Shan – cooed.

“Or maybe we should’ve hired a babysitter for tonight,” John put in, his fingers drumming over the wooden surface of the table.

“So nice to know you love spending time with our daughter,” Shan sneered. By now little Minnie – yes, like the mouse – had knitted her eyebrows, a frown on her face. It wasn’t long before her tiny lips parted and she cried out her discontent at being kept away from the table or whichever item on it – dishes filled with fries, glasses with beer, a ketchup bottle – had taken her fancy.

“Oh, don’t be like that, honey, don’t be like that,” Shan hushed her softly, attempting to quiet Minnie by rocketing her back and forth.

“May I try?” I asked, extending my arms towards the sniveling toddler. Shan nodded and passed her daughter to John who in turn handed Minnie to me.

“Hello, beautiful,” I turned to the child in my arms with a baby voice. “What is it that upsets you, huh? What is it, Minnie?” I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue at her. By the time my face was back to normal, she was smiling. “That’s better,” I concluded, using my regular tone and the corners of my lips turned up. I held the girl firmly enough for her not to squirm – thankfully she had already forgotten about her desire to climb on the table – but gently enough not to make her uncomfortable.

It felt amazing having a toddler in your arms. Their big eyes were full of wonder; even the most common objects could provoke a reaction from them. Their lips would pucker or form an ‘o’, they would squeal, or – sadly – sometimes they would cry. But the tantrums and crying were worth enduring because once they were over, the child would go back to smiling and there was nothing purer than a child’s smile.