This went off in a different direction than I intended, but I was having some Pete feels...
Don't worry, it's still B&W.
Summers in the Badlands of South Dakota were not pleasant, with the exception of the few rainstorms that scattered across the area. The sun hung high in the cloudless sky over Univille. The temperature reaching a blistering 100°F. To top it all off, the air conditioner in the bed and breakfast was on the fritz.
"It's hot hel-heck in here," Pete whined, catching himself just before cursing. He was wearing board shorts and a sleeveless tee, pressing an ice-cold glass of water to his forehead. "Since the A/C is out of order, and the resident repair women are not expected back until at least tomorrow, what do you say to me taking my favorite ladies out for some ice cream?"
Myka was sat in the living room with a book in her lap. Her oldest daughter, Charlotte, was sprawled out on the floor with her coloring books and crayons, while her baby, Elizabeth, slept in her bassinet by the couch. At the mention of ice cream, the curly-headed four-year-old shot up, bouncing over to her mother.
"Can we, Momma? Please?" she exclaimed grabbing Myka's hands. Myka couldn't contain the grin that bloomed on her face at her daughter's excitement. She shook her head slightly in amusement, narrowing her eyes at the little girl. "Please?"
"How can I say no to that face?" Myka smiled. "You have to put away your coloring books and crayons first."
"Okay!" she replied excitedly. She bounced back over to her spot on the floor. Scooping her crayons back into the small cardboard box, she picked up her belongings before bounding towards the stairs to put everything away in her room.
"And put actual clothes on," Myka called after her. "You can't wear your swimsuit to the ice cream shop."
"Fine," the little girl hollered back in the most put out voice she could manage.
"I think you just made her day," Myka said cheerily to Pete. "Between the heat and missing her mum, she has been a grump."
"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" Pete smiled back.
Myka leaned over Elizabeth's bassinet to press a soft kiss to her head. "Would you keep an eye on her for me while I go throw a shirt on?"
"Don't want to wear a clingy tank top to the ice cream parlor?" Pete challenged raise of his eyebrow.
"Not particularly, no," Myka replied.
"You shouldn't wear one around your wife either," he said.
"Right," Myka laughed.
"I'm not joking," Pete replied seriously. "If HG see's you in that, she may take her time in fixing the A/C."
"I doubt Helena would make our children suffer just so she can see me in skimpy clothes."
"Well, excuse me for not having the same faith." He dodged out of the way as she took a playful shot at his arm. "Okay, I kid. I kid."
Myka reached for a small pile of clothes on the end table, tossing them towards Pete. "Would you mind making sure Lizzie's diaper is dry and putting these on her for me?"
"Not a problem," he smiled in return.
Pete managed to have the infant changed and clothed, her diaper bag slung over his shoulder, when Myka and Charlotte made it back downstairs. Charlotte had on a Broncos t-shirt, jean shorts, and her light-up sneakers. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, just like her momma's. Myka had just thrown on Helena's light blue, loose-fitting button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
"I offer to take you out for ice cream, and this is the thanks I get?" Pete joked gesturing at the little girl's shirt. "You wound me."
Charlotte giggled in replied. "My team went to the Super Bowl. Yours didn't even go to the playoffs," she replied smartly, eyes narrowed at her uncle, arms crossed defiantly.
"Well, they didn't win it," Pete pouted. "You know your mom just bought you that shirt to irritate me, don't you? She doesn't even like football."
Myka chuckled under her breath, shaking her head at the duo. They had this argument every time Charlotte wore that particular shirt. She had bought the shirt as a joke after catching her daughter watching football with Pete the previous season, much to Pete's chagrin. His, almost completely feigned, annoyance grew when the little girl learned that the shirt was for the team where her momma was from. She loved it even more, wearing it every Sunday.
"Come on, you two," Myka cut in. She retrieved her keys from the dish on the table by the door, handing them to Pete as she took Elizabeth from his arms.
"Ugh, I hate driving your car," Pete bemoaned.
"Quit your whining," Myka shot back good-naturedly. "It'll be easier that moving the car seats over and you know it."
"I know," Pete relented, still slightly whining.
They arrived at the ice cream shop after a short drive, Charlotte jumping from the car the second her seatbelt was unbuckled.
"Hold your horses there missy," Pete laughed grabbing hold of the exuberant child's hand, keeping her by his side.
Myka smiled adoringly as she unfastened the straps on the infant seat holding her baby.
"Come on," Charlotte moaned pulling on Pete's arm.
"Hey, if you don't knock it off, little lady, you won't get any ice cream," Myka said sternly. She rested Elizabeth on one shoulder as she retrieved the diaper bag draping its strap on her other shoulder. "Come here," she smiled beckoning her daughter over.
"Yeah, Momma?" She reached for her hand.
"Okay, let's tell Uncle Pete what kind of ice cream you want now and we'll find a booth while he orders," Myka said as they walked towards the door to the establishment. "And only one scoop this time, okay? Last time, he let you have far too much sugar for your tiny body."
"No such thing," Pete chimed in.
"You weren't stuck with her all afternoon," Myka shot back, still smiling. "She was bouncing off the walls."
"Okay," Charlotte replied entirely put out by the restriction. "Can I at least get sprinkles?"
"I suppose," Myka sighed playfully.
"And whipped cream?"
"A little."
"Chocolate sauce?"
"Don't push your luck," Myka smirked.
"Okay," she complied turning to Pete. "Can I get super fudge brownie with a little bit of whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles?"
"Yes, you may munchkin," Pete answered jovially. "And you?" he asked Myka.
"Butter pecan, caramel sauce, chocolate sprinkles," Myka answered. "Just a small one, though."
"Alrighty then," Pete smiled opening the door for the ladies.
Myka ushered Charlotte inside, turning towards the tables with a smile at Pete. He watched as they sat at a booth by the front window before headed up to the counter.
"How can I help you today, sir?" the young woman working the register asked.
Pete rattled off their order, adding his own ridiculously large (according to Myka) ice cream to their order. He glanced back over towards their table, smiling at the sight. Myka was cradling Lizzie in her arms feeding her a bottle. She smiled bemusedly at Charlotte across the table as she talked animatedly, about what he couldn't hear.
"You have a beautiful family," the cashier smiled at him handing over his change. "It's nice seeing a husband and wife taking their kids out for ice cream."
He started to correct her, to tell her that he and Myka were not married, and those were not his kids. Instead, he glanced over at the table again, turning back with a small smile and a whispered thank you. He retrieved the tray containing their ice cream then headed towards their booth. He placed the tray on the table, leaning over to press a kiss to Charlotte's head. "May I join you ladies?"
"I did something shitty," Pete mumbled upon finding Myka in her room once she put the girls to bed. She was curled up in bed with a book. Pete collapsed on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She had already changed into her pajamas which consisted of a lightweight tank top and plaid boyshorts.
"And what would that be, Pete?" Myka asked, her eyes never leaving the book in her lap.
"At the ice cream place earlier…" he started.
"I told you that was way too much sugar," Myka smirked. "Even for you."
"Ha-ha," Pete laughed un-amused. "It's not that. My stomach is fine. That girl working the counter, she assumed that we were, you know…married. Said I had a beautiful family."
"And?"
"And I didn't correct her," Pete admitted.
Myka chuckled closing her book. She turned to him, smiling at his dejectedness. "That's okay, Pete. Sometimes it's just easier to do that. Especially in South Dakota. Hell…I've done it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, never when the kids are within earshot. I don't want them to think having two moms is something to be ashamed of, or that I'm embarrassed by having a wife instead of a husband."
"Right."
"But there have been times when I'm out with the kids, at the park or where ever, and someone makes an offhanded comment about how lucky my husband is to have us." Myka runs her fingers through her hair shrugging her shoulders. "Nine times out of ten, I correct them. I love my wife and am incredibly proud to be married to her. Sometimes, though, I am just so exhausted and am not in the mood to listen to someone turn my family into something political."
"I hate that," Pete replied. "Your family, or families like yours, is not a political statement."
"I know that," Myka agreed nodding her head.
"It wasn't just that," Pete confessed. "It was just…I liked the idea that you guys were my family. It was a nice thought." Myka raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. "Not you specifically, obviously…that would be weird and gross."
"Thank god," Myka breathed with a laugh. "Don't scare me like that, Lattimer."
"Sorry," he chortled raising his hand in defense. "But no…I just…I think I'm just jealous of what you've got."
"I know…sometimes when I sit back and think about it, it's like we switched lives," Myka said furrowing her eyebrows. "Well, not exactly, because of Helena. She's always been what I wanted." Pete nodded thoughtfully. "But…having a beautiful wife and two amazing children…those were things I never wanted. Fought against them for a while. Now, I wouldn't trade them for the world."
"That's what I want," Pete sighed.
"And you'll have it," Myka reassured.