Fill for the prompt "ice cream" from the promptslove livejournal
The familiar, heady sounds of the musical chimes were barely audible in the distance. Yet of all the kids on the playground, eight-year-old Luke Snyder always detected them first. His dad joked the boy had supersonic hearing when it came to important things (like ice cream), but could be stricken suddenly deaf at the first words of his chore assignments for the day.
Not that feeding the chickens or drying the dishes was beyond his young abilities. Luke simply preferred to pass his lazy summer days... well, lazily. If he dragged his feet long enough, his Grandma Emma would usually end up helping him, which amounted to her doing most of the work.
It frustrated Holden to no end that his mother, who'd been such a taskmaster in his own childhood, was such a pushover when it came to Luke. Gone were the sermons about learning responsibility that Holden had endured. Instead, Emma seemed to be competing with Luke's maternal grandmother, Lucinda, to see who could coddle him the most.
Lily wasn't much more help. Luke was her baby. Everything he did right was miraculous, and anything he did wrong was "cute."
So it fell to Holden to be the "strict" parent. It wasn't what he'd planned. Growing up with an often stifling schedule of farm duties, Holden had sworn he'd be the fun dad when he became a father.
Instead, he'd become the bad cop. If Luke wouldn't pick up his toys or brush his teeth, what would require an hour of pleading to accomplish by Emma or Lily would take exactly one look from Holden. Because Holden didn't make idle threats.
If Luke pushed his luck, his after-dinner desert would disappear. Or his favorite remote-control robot would suddenly have no batteries. Holden never announced a penalty. He would just give Luke the look, and Luke would know.
Holden chuckled to himself as Luke charged him at breakneck speed across the park, all skinny limbs and red cheeks and purpose. Somehow, despite Holden's status as the tough parent, Luke seemed to love him just as fiercely as he did Lily, Emma, and Lucinda. Somehow, all Holden's worries about Luke's resentment for being punished never came to pass.
Somehow, though young Luke knew Holden wasn't his biological father, he never asked about the man who was. That had been Holden's biggest fear - that one day, Luke would become angry with him, and demand to be reunited with his real father. Maybe he had that to look forward to in Luke's teenage years.
But for now, even when Luke sulked after a punishment, he would inevitably crawl into Holden's lap, whispering "sorry, Daddy" as he sought his father's comfort. That bond strengthened Holden's conviction he was on the right track with his son. It was important to him that while Luke always felt loved, he never felt entitled.
Holden knew that as both a Grimaldi and Walsh heir, Luke likely wouldn't want for anything in adulthood. The time to instill a work ethic and an appreciation for his blessings was now. He would be damned if Luke's potential - which he saw as limitless - was buried under the easy, disposable lifestyle of a trust fund prince.
Holden had already retrieved the dollar bill when Luke bounded into his arms. "Hey, kiddo - I'm an old man! You can't tackle me like that!"
"You're not as old as dirt yet!" Luke had heard the joke when Jack teased Holden after a particularly grueling work day on the farm. Since then, it was a favorite line of Luke's, and he would gleefully use it whether it fit the situation or not.
"No, not yet," Holden agreed. "I've got a few more days, at least."
"Can I get ice cream? I did all my chores and helped Grandma too!"
It was true. As Luke grew up, what he liked least about being punished wasn't the punishment itself, but knowing he'd done something to let down his dad. Lately, he not only did his own chores without complaint, but often volunteered to pitch in around the farm.
Holden took it as a sign maybe he was doing something right. He smiled at Luke's hopeful expression, watching it transform to elation as Holden revealed the bill in his hand. Luke grabbed it immediately, his parting "thank you Daddy!" squealed as he sped off towards the approaching white truck.
Holden watched as the crush of children swarmed the vehicle. As usual, Luke stood off to the side; not in the line, but in front of the colorful menu board. Every time without fail, Luke contemplated the offerings carefully, and also without fail, inevitably ordered a green Reptar ice cream bar.
Holden continued to observe Luke's faithful ritual. He was surprised when instead of joining the line, Luke walked away from the truck empty-handed. When Luke plopped himself on a nearby bench next to another boy, Holden assumed he must have found a friend from his second-grade class last year.
While the other children ordered their ice cream treats, Luke remained on the bench, animatedly speaking (as was his only manner of speech) to the dark-haired child beside him. Holden didn't recognize the boy, and walked partway to the truck to see if he could work out his identity. He stopped at a safe distance, though, because it was very important to Luke to be allowed to order on his own, like a grown-up.
From his new position, Holden could observe the mystery boy wasn't a student from Luke's class. The boy listened silenty as Luke prattled on, as if he didn't quite know what to make of Holden's chatterbox son. Holden weighed whether he should intervene, but decided the other boy would probably just leave the bench if Luke was bothering him. At one point, the boy seemed to say something in response to Luke, but it was so brief, Holden couldn't be sure.
As the last child in line received her ice cream, Luke finally stood from the bench, and returned to the truck. He examined the menu board one last time before placing his order, and surrendering the dollar bill. Expecting to see the bright hues of the Rugrats cartoon-embellished wrapping, Holden was surprised as Luke accepted a treat in plain white paper.
His interest piqued, Holden watched as Luke made his way to the bench once again, rejoining his quiet companion. Luke carefully opened the packaging to reveal a plain red treat: a twin popsicle, complete with dual sticks. Holden groaned inwardly as Luke broke the treat in two with his sandbox-grubby hands, then offered half to Noah.
But the other boy didn't seem to mind. In fact, his face lit up at the gift, though he seemed to fight against the emerging smile on his face. This time, when he spoke briefly, Holden guessed that the single word offered was "thanks."
In return, Luke beamed, and the two boys began enjoying their popsicles. Luke dramatically swung his feet back-and-forth as he ate, and soon the other boy followed suit. By the time both kids had devoured their treats, they were sticky, smiling, and even laughing together.
Holden marvelled at the transformation that had taken place in the shy child through the simple act of Luke's kindness. As Luke grabbed his new friend's hand and steered the boy towards the sandbox, Holden realized two things. Luke's potential really was limitless - and as a dad, Holden was definitely doing something right.