He heard a now-familiar quaver in her voice, one that portended another crying jag. When Charlie cried, Ashley usually started up, then Cameron got mad and things unraveled.
Not today, Sean thought, gripping the steering wheel. They had planned to run errands on the way home, but he decided to make a detour. “I know something we can do that’s fun.”
“What?” she demanded.
“We’ll do it right now.”
“I thought we were going grocery shopping,” Lily pointed out, always one to get rattled by a change of plans.
“Groceries can wait. I have a better idea,” Sean said.
“What?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s too much fun. You’ll get so excited you’ll wet your pants.”
“Uncle Sean! Lily, make him tell me,” Charlie said, squirming against her seat belt.
“How would I do that?”
“You’re a teacher. Just make him.”
“Whoa, a teacher,” Sean said. “I’m shaking.” He trembled until Charlie started to giggle.
“Let’s just be surprised,” Lily said, pruning her lips with disapproval.
Too bad, thought Sean. With three kids, you had to learn to be spontaneous. He teased them along for the next ten minutes as they headed west. Then he pulled into a gravel parking lot and Cameron gave a groan. “I don’t believe this.”
“What, are you scared I’m going to beat you?” Sean asked.
“I’m scared someone is going to see me here,” Cameron said.
“Twenty bucks says I whip you like a redheaded stepchild.”
Lily’s eyes flared behind her glasses. “Sean, I don’t think—”
“You’re on,” said Cameron, and got out of the car. Predictably, he couldn’t resist a challenge, especially when money was involved.
Charlie was beside herself. “Uncle Sean, this is so cool.”
He grinned at Lily. “See? I’m cool.”
She tipped back her head and read the sign arching over the entrance, painted in garish Day-Glo green: Welcome to Jurassic Golf Park. A Millennium of Fun.
“What are we waiting for?” Sean took the baby out of the car seat and they went to the ticket kiosk.
“Two adults, two kids, the baby’s free,” said the attendant. “That’ll be $18.50.”
“Oh, I won’t be playing,” said Lily.
“Yes, she will,” Sean contradicted her, and slid a twenty-dollar bill across the counter.
They were given putters and balls that had seen better days, and Ashley received a hollow plastic mallet. “Right through there, folks,” the attendant said.
They stepped through an archway so low Sean and Cameron had to duck under it.
“Bugga bugga,” yelled a caveman, jumping out at them.
“Bugga bugga,” yelled Ashley, clapping her hands. Even Cameron laughed at that.
“Smile!” The caveman snapped a photo of them. “What a great-looking family,” he said, showing them the photo on the screen of his digital camera.
Lily looked flustered. “Oh, we’re not—”
“This photo will be available for purchase before you leave,” the caveman said.
Family or not, it was a great shot. Against a backdrop designed to resemble a primeval rain forest, they all looked as though something funny had startled them, which it had.
“How much?” asked Sean.
“Ten dollars for an eight-by-ten print. I’ll have one waiting for you at the exit when you leave.”
Sean handed a ten-dollar bill to the caveman.
“You’re going to keep score, Charlie Brown,” he said, handing her the scorecard and pencil.
“I don’t know how.”
“Sure you do, honey. Keep track of everyone’s strokes and compare them to par for each hole.” Weird, he thought. Derek Holloway’s kid didn’t know how to keep score. What was up with that? These kids were so easy to get close to, especially when golf was involved.
“But—”
“No buts. I need to whup some big brother ass, so I need for you to be in charge. Make sure nobody cheats.”
“Okay, I guess. I don’t think you’re supposed to say ass.”
“He’s definitely not,” Lily said.
Sean ignored her. The woman had a strange way of simultaneously getting on his nerves and under his skin. He sent Charlie and Cameron to the first hole, and Ashley toddled after them. “I don’t know what it is about you, Miss Lily. You make me want to misbehave.”
“How can I make you stop?” she asked.
“You could try spanking me.”
She made a sound that was sort of half gasp, half hiccup, and walked on ahead of him, fists pumping and cheeks red. Good old Lily Robinson, he thought. What a girl.
He liked to needle her. He didn’t know why. Maybe because she was so incredibly…needle-able.
The eighteen holes of Jurassic Park were designed around no known principles of putting. There were uphill shots, downhill shots, holes that roared when the ball went in, a volcano spewing fake lava and smoke,