Chapter Text
Frank is waiting in line for the soft pretzels, but he keeps getting distracted by the homing beacon at his periphery.
They stood a little back from the rink, where Mel was fussing with Millie’s hat. She was all bundled up in a puffy green coat, a pom-pom hat slipping over pale blond curls. Her mittened hands clutched Mel’s collar, cheeks pink from the cold and the crying. Tanner was satisfied to keep clinging to her right pant leg, the whole right-side of his face smushed against her stomach, one blue eye poking out, glued to his handheld Switch. Abby hated it since the day Frank brought it home, three days after missing the soccer championship game working a double.
“Excuse me, Mr..” Frank snapped back to the counter. The lady at the stand smiled kindly at him before handing over the food. “You have a beautiful family.” she continued, watching him pick out eight napkins from the holder, then two more just to be sure. “She looks just like her mommy”. Frank nodded in thanks, forking over a $20 and sticking the change in the tip jar.
It was an easy mistake to make. Neither of them knew for sure whose family it came from, but both kids were born with downy mops of blonde hair. Tanner’s had darkened by the time he was two, but Millie’s showed no sign of change.
Unsurprisingly, his kids loved Mel from the moment they met her at a picnic in Frick Park, two-months into Frank’s return to PTMC. Today they hit the skating rink in hopes to teach them the basics, taking advantage of the early morning lull on a weekday. Mel ice skated for three years during middle-school, a hobby for the afterschool hours while her mother took Becca to speech therapy. She hadn’t had the opportunity to teach anyone since college, so even though Frank was from the Midwest with three older brothers, he wobbled on purpose just to keep her hands at his elbows, the low murmur of her voice guiding him through the moves.
He kicked out a snow-covered rock from the path with the tip of his boot absentmindedly before starting towards them.
He wondered if their kid would come out blonde too. If they would have her cute button nose, Frank’s jawline, her smattering of freckles or a cute chin dimple. He was hoping for another girl, this time with her big brown eyes.
As soon as he reached them, Frank quietly slipped an arm around Mel’s waist, pulling her against his side to shield her from the cold bite of the wind. Her body was so small curled around him, a perfect fit to tuck under his chin. She startled for a second before relaxing back into his chest, trapping Tanner between them. He didn’t bother to speak up, but moved to prop his console on Frank’s stomach before resuming the game. He wasn’t a pretzel enthusiast. Millie, on the other hand, perked up immediately, reaching for her bribe.
Their lesson had been mostly successful, but after a rough tumble when Frank hadn’t grabbed her quickly enough during a failed spin, Millie burst out crying. And when one of them cried, the other one was never too far behind. The meltdown only abated when Mel picked her up and Frank promised to ply her with processed sugar to her little heart’s content.
Mel giggled when Millie stuffed her cheeks like a chipmunk and snuggled impossibly closer to him, careful not to crush little toddler arms. Frank shivered at the feel of her peeling laughter rumbling on his chest. He craned his neck and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, swaying the four of them in place.
“How do you feel about Prantl’s?” he asked, peppering kisses along her hairline. “We could have some hot chocolate, maybe lunch later if you’re up to it?”
Mel hummed in consideration. “Won’t Abby mind you three being gone for so long?”
“Not at all”, he lied seamlessly. “She’ll be grateful for the break. They get the zoomies cooped up for too long in that house during winter.”
“Like you” she smiled warmly.
“Like me” he agreed, halting the sway. “So…lunch?”
“Tanner loves their tiramisu” Mel mumbled, playing with the buttons on his coat collar.
He really did. “Heard that, buddy? Do you want tiramisu?” Tanner nodded, moving his forehead up and down against Mel.
Settled, then.
“Dad, can I come up?”
“Of course you can, but you have to put the game away first.” Tanner made a face, but didn’t protest when he plucked it from his hands and stuck it in his own coat pocket. Frank pulled back from Mel reluctantly, picking up Tanner and cradling his head on his right shoulder.
Mel reached for his left hand.
The PCV10/13 shot was given at about eight weeks. If he put a baby on her before New Years’, they could have a family outing just like this by this time next year.