Page 50 of Sassy & Sixty
In the middle of it all was Rosie, alternating between laughter and near-tears, wondering how on earth Mary managed this every day.
Just as it seemed things couldn't get any more chaotic, a gust of wind caught Julie's abandoned sketch, sending it sailing across the park. Without thinking, Rosie took off after it, leavingthe twins in the care of her friends (a decision she would immediately question).
She chased the paper across the grass, dodging startled picnickers and overenthusiastic dogs, all while yelling apologies over her shoulder. "Sorry! Runaway art! Mind your heads!"
Finally, with a leap that would have made an Olympic long-jumper proud, she caught the sketch, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and grass stains.
As she lay there, catching her breath and wondering if sixty-something-year-old knees were supposed to bend that way, she heard a familiar voice.
"Rosie? Are you alright?"
She looked up to see Mike standing over her, concern etched on his handsome face. Of course, she thought. Of course, the universe would make sure the man she was interested in would see her like this - covered in grass stains and what she strongly suspected was squashed banana, with a crayon-drawn flower adorning her cheek (courtesy of Daisy's earlier artistic endeavours).
"Oh, hello Mike," she said, trying to sound casual, as if sprawling on the ground in a public park was a perfectly normal way to spend a Tuesday afternoon. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
Mike's concerned expression melted into an amused smile. "It certainly seems eventful," he said, offering her a hand up. "Dare I ask what's going on?"
Rosie accepted his help, wincing slightly as her knees protested the movement. "Oh, you know," she said airily, "just a typical day out with the grandchildren and the girls. Nothing out of the ordinary."
As if on cue, a chorus of shrieks erupted from their picnic spot. Rosie turned to see Emma running across the grass, still wearing her kite-cape, pursued by an angry-looking goose. George was gleefully waving what appeared to be half of asandwich, shouting "Look, Grandma! I'm feeding the space ducks!", while Daisy had somehow managed to cover herself head to toe in Julie's paints and was declaring herself the "Queen of the Colour Planet."
"I see," Mike said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Just a quiet day in the park, then?"
Rosie couldn't help but laugh. "Welcome to my world," she said. "Care to join the madness?"
To her surprise and delight, Mike nodded. "I'd be honoured," he said. "Though I should warn you, my child-wrangling skills are a bit rusty."
"Don't worry," Rosie assured him as they made their way back to the group. "Compared to this lot, you'll look like a professional."
The addition of Mike to their merry band seemed to bring a semblance of order to the chaos. He had a knack for engaging the twins, and even managed to negotiate a truce between Emma and the aggrieved goose.
"You see, George," Mike was saying, crouched down to the little boy's level, "geese are a bit like the grumpy old aliens in your space stories. They're not really mean, they're just a bit misunderstood. And sometimes, they get scared when people run at them with big flappy things."
He shot a pointed look at Emma, who had the grace to look slightly abashed as she folded up her kite-cape.
As the afternoon wore on, the park became their playground. Mike organised a game of "Cosmic Hide and Seek," with the adults taking turns being the "Space Commander" searching for the hidden "alien life forms" (George and Daisy, giggling behind trees and bushes).
Julie set up an outdoor art class, teaching the twins how to make leaf rubbings and turn them into "alien landscapes." Lisa, much to everyone's surprise, turned out to be an excellentstoryteller, keeping the children spellbound with tales of friendly aliens and their adventures across the galaxy.
Even Catherine got into the spirit of things, leading an impromptu nature walk where every stick became a "laser blaster" and every interesting rock a "precious alien artifact."
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, Rosie looked around at her unlikely family. Lisa was engrossed in a serious discussion with George about the aerodynamics of paper aeroplanes, her earlier rigidity softened by the child's earnest questions. Julie had abandoned her painting in favour of creating daisy chains with Daisy, who was wearing them as royal regalia, declaring herself "Princess of the Flower Galaxy."
Catherine had dozed off on the picnic blanket, one protective arm draped over the twins' backpacks, a half-eaten biscuit still clutched in her hand. Mike was sitting cross-legged on the grass, George and Daisy on either side of him, all three gazing up at the sky as he pointed out the stars, weaving a tale about each one.
And Emma... well, Emma was attempting to teach a group of fascinated children the finer points of cloud-watching, spinning tales of cloud dragons and cotton candy castles.
"Alright, you little dreamers," Rosie heard her say, "the secret is in the imagination. What do you see up there?"
As if sensing her gaze, Mike looked up and caught Rosie's eye. The warmth in his smile made her heart skip a beat.
"Quite a family you've got here," he said softly.
Rosie nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. "They're a bit mad," she said. "But I wouldn't have them any other way."
Minutes later, Mary's car pulled up to the curb. She got out, looking significantly more put-together than she had that morning, and surveyed the scene before her with a mix of amusement and confusion. Ted climbed out of the car, too, and rushed over to greet his daughters.
The park was alive with the sounds of children playing and dogs barking. Rosie and Mike stood up and walked hand in hand towards her daughter.
