Ink and Betsy
“Oh, there you guys are.” Betsy rushed over to where Zippy, Baron and Royal were helping clean up the mess left by the cupcake war. “I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”
Royal drew her against him in a side hug. “Ma, you never need to worry about us.”
Right. Sure.
She shot him a droll look. “I don’t think I will ever stop worrying about you three. That’s my job.”
“We can take care of ourselves, Mama,” Zippy told her, pushing her chest out. “And you.”
Dear Lord. This was Ink’s fault. He had their children thinking they needed to look after her rather than the other way around.
She was really glad she’d managed to get him in the chest with a cupcake, even though she’d been aiming for his face.
He must have moved because her aim was excellent.
“Right, the meat is nearly ready so we’re going to start bringing out the sides. Can you guys come help?” Betsy asked.
“Sure thing, Ma,” Baron said, pulling her from Royal so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. “You don’t even have to ask. We are on it.”
“Yes, you should really go relax, put your feet up,” Royal told her.
“All right, now I’m really worried that you’re up to some—”
“Mr. Fluffy, no!” Millie cried.
Betsy stared in shock as Mr. Fluffy actually ran past with a whole bag of hotdogs in his mouth.
“Mr. Fluffy is running!” Zippy cried, clapping her hands. “Go, Mr. Fluffy!”
“Noo! Mr. Fluffy is on a diet!” Millie cried as she attempted to chase after him. “And I don’t like running! My boobs were not made to run!”
A giggle escaped Betsy at her words. Then she watched in shock as Hatter and Bandit joined the chase. Now there were three dogs and Millie running through the backyard.
“I’ll help you, Mr. Fluffy!” Zippy cried, taking off after them. “Free the hotdogs!”
“Oh dear,” Betsy said as Baron sniggered. “Stop that and help.”
“Sure thing, Ma. Although can’t say as I’ve ever chased hotdog,” Baron said.
Betsy groaned and looked to the sky for patience as Baron joined the chase.
“Oh no, should we help?” Autumn asked as she and Brody came up on one side of Betsy.
“Not sure we’ll be any help,” Livvy said, walking up to her other side as two of her nephews joined in the chase.
“Kind of crazy how fast Mr. Fluffy can run,” Jewel said as she joined them. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him walk more than a few steps.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Spike muttered. “Millie, stop running! You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I have to catch him! He can’t eat all those hotdogs!” Millie cried. “You know he hates it when the vet calls him the F.A.T. word. He sulked for a week. I had to give him a steak just to get him out of his funk.”
This time it was Spike’s turn to look skyward.
“He’d have to get them out of the bag to eat them,” Razor called out before whistling for Luna, who had joined in at some stage.
She came running straight over to Razor and sat, panting at his feet.
“He knows how to do that,” Spike said. “Reason he took them is he’s probably starving from that vegetarian shit he’s on. Tastes like cardboard.”
“How do you know what it tastes like?” Betsy asked with a grin. “Did you try some?”
Spike shot her a look, but she wasn’t intimidated by him. She knew he had a big heart. He’d do anything for any of his friends and he’d kill for Millie.
“Uh. Well. He told Millie.”
“Who did?” Jewel asked, sounding amused.
“Mr. Fluffy,” Spike grumbled. “And yes, I can hear how ridiculous that sounds.” Spike started stomping toward Mr. Fluffy and Millie. “Millie, stop.”
“I can’t!” Suddenly, she let out a small cry as she tripped. Everyone sucked in a gasp, but she managed to right herself just as Spike started to run.
Suddenly, a loud whistle made everyone freeze.
“Sit!”
All of the dogs sat. The kids sat. Millie sat.
Betsy barely managed not to sit, but only because she grabbed hold of Royal’s arm.
“Holy shit, was that the Fox?” Jewel whispered. “That guy’s voice is powerful. I nearly obeyed him.”
All of the dogs looked up at the Fox obediently. Except Mr. Fluffy. He sat but started to chew his way through the bag of hotdogs.
Spike walked over and grabbed the bag, shaking his head at him with a sigh. “You’re trouble.”
“Aww, no, he’s not,” Millie said, wrapping her arms around Mr. Fluffy.
“And so are you.” Spike stared down at her.
Uh-oh.
Betsy wouldn’t like to be in Millie’s shoes right now.