Where Promises Must Glide

20 - Theo/Juliette

"Theo can we get ice cream," Ophelia asked, tugging on my shirt. Her big silver eyes were fluttering as she tried to give me the innocent puppy dog eyes—which ultimately worked every time.

"Ok, but then I have to call your Grammy to pick you up," I explained, mentioning her grandma who told me to call her when she needed to get Ophelia.

She pouted slightly, but didn't say anything. We continued walking, heading to the small ice cream shop everyone has been mentioning to be best in town. When we arrived, we were presented with a small line of people and bright lights shining the colorful shack.

Even though it was fall, and the weather has been freezing lately, I couldn't say no to anything Ophelia asked me. "Philly do you want vanilla or chocolate?" I asked as we began getting closer to the stand.

She began stroking her chin, mimicking the people in the movies she watches, furrowing her brows as well to add an extra flair. "I think I want. . . Swirl!!!" She jumped up and down, her big and lively four year old heart creating all her actions out of pure bliss.

This one lady who just finished ordering looked at us. First she glanced at Ophelia who's hand was gripping to my finger. Then at me. Well she actually checked me out instead of just looked. She was wearing a skimpy blue skirt and a silver chain top.

Then she began to walk over to us while the line was at holt—thanks to the guy who was ordering the whole fucking menu.

"Hey," she winked at me, smiling seductively.

"Can I help you?" I respond, pulling Ophelia closer to me just to be safe. When she began to get closer to me, I actually lifted Ophelia up into my arms. Maybe it's my trust issues, but I don't trust anyone around someone as precious as Ophelia.

She ignored my nasty gaze, turning to Ophelia instead. "And who is this," she said in a babyish voice. Ophelia tiredly rested her head in the crook of my neck—similar to Juliette.

"This is Philly," I tell her, in a pathetic attempt at being kind. She probably caught on to the sourness of my tone, turning to my gaze. "And I'll repeat my earlier statement; can I help you?"

She scoffed. "No need to be an ass. Wanted to invite you to go club hopping with me and my friends, but seems you got some stick up your ass," she spat.

I didn't care what she had to say about me. "I'm good," I say, holding back a string of curse words. "Have a good nights." I've never gritted my teeth so hard, it felt like it was going to break off from the pressure I was putting on it.

She turned away, giving me a breathy scoff as she went to her friends who were getting their ice cream, and taking shots of fireball. What a weird mixture.

"Want me to order, or do you want to do it?" I ask Ophelia. Juliette mentioned she was concerned that Ophelia would not be good at socializing, especially since she is starting school Pre-K next year. I have been looking into multiple programs that would be helpful, along with some art stuff she can do on her own—or in groups that are around her age.

"Can you order?" She says, sleepily as she yawns in my arms. I walk up the to register, ordering two swirl ice creams, one in a cup and the other on a cone. I knew she liked the ice cream in a cone, but it always ended melting before she could finish it. So I get her an extra that she ends up sharing with me.

Juliette is the same way.

There are so many things about the two girls that always have me reminded of the beautiful mom I am obsessed with, but conflicted with.

"Grammy is going to be here in a little," I explain, as I hand Ophelia her ice cream cone. She began to lick at the sprinkle covered sweetness. I smiled at how cute she was, enjoying the treat.