Shelter from the Storm
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a/n: Zoe is about 2 in this story. A version of this may have appeared elsewhere, long ago.
Chapter 25 ~ Guardian Angels and Snow Angels —
[Tank]
We watched the tiny pink-clad imp run ahead in the snow. Dressed in black of course, we followed her like two huge shadows, our eyes constantly watching our surroundings as if we were in a war zone and not at a snowy park in Jersey.
The child stopped at a snowbank and giggled, turning to look at us. Her cheeks were as rosy as her snowsuit and her dark eyes glowed with joy.
"Daddy! Daddydaddydaddy! Snow."
"Yes, snow, chica."
She patted the snow with a mittened hand, then leaned slowly forward as if to taste the novel substance with her tongue. Beside me Ranger reached out quickly and said, "No, baby. Don't eat snow."
"No?"
"Uh-uh. Not ever. Especially not yellow snow."
She stared up at the man who was her mirror image, her face suddenly sorrowful. Her lips quivered and the beautiful eyes filled with tears.
"Is icky, Daddy?"
"Just a dog, baby."
"Pee pee? Like Bob?"
"…Yeah."
Poor Ranger. I figured it was hard being a badass and a daddy both. I did my best not to laugh but a snort came out anyway.
"Tanky? Is pee pee?"
"Uh….yeah. Let's find you some nice white clean snow, okay? You and me and your daddy will make a snowman."
"Snowman? Is like Rangeman?"
"Yeah. Only all white."
She smiled again, storm clouds all gone. This child had Ranger's face but she had her mother's mercurial temperament, happy one minute, sad the next.
She turned and scampered away again and we again scoured the snowy empty park for bad guys. It was a habit, what can I say.
Ranger of course said nothing. I said, "Don't look so glum, you imparted an important piece of paternal wisdom today."
Ranger said nothing. Tiny frown between his eyebrows above the mirrored black sunglasses.
"You know, next summer you can teach her about not drinking the seawater, too, that's next on your agenda."
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"Man, you know—don't drink the water, fish have sex in it."
"I don't think so, Tank."
"No? What about, Don't fly faster than your guardian angels can fly?"
"No. I want her to fly. Her guardian angels just better make sure they keep up."
"We will, boss."
Ranger said, "I don't want the chains of the world, the you shoulds or you musts or no-no's to tie her down. My baby is not gonna suffer like Steph did. I want her to be free."
"Uh huh."
Ranger meant well, I thought, and god knows he loves his daughters more than anything in this world except Stephanie. But Zoë is the child of a very wealthy man who has a lot of enemies. And her mother is a disaster magnet. Ranger would walk a fine line all her life, torn between protecting his child at all costs or allowing her to grow as a person and be free. Lula and I wanted kids too, but watching Ranger now, well—it's a challenge.
We walked on in silence, catching up to Zoë who was making snow angels, with the joyful abandon only a two year old princess can display.
"Tank?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think she's too little for a Kevlar vest?"
The end of the story, series tbc