Chapter 11
GAVIN
“You did what?” Okay, so that was entirely too loud, and Molly’s neighbor and her date were apparently trying to actually watch the movie. So Gavin stood, abandoned his Milk Duds, and herded the boys into the hallway toward the concessions stand.
Molly followed with him. Probably because she had way more experience with kids and he did likely require supervision here. Also, it would be more interesting than the movie.
“The other one came out.” Kellan’s voice pitched higher, because of the candy in his nostril or because he was getting nervous that he’d be smelling that Skittle forever.
“What if it seeps into his brain?” Ollie asked, not helping the situation.
“Is that going to happen?” Kellan’s voice trembled, which was good. Fear would possibly make it so he didn’t do this again.
“That’d be epic.” Brady lifted his knuckles for a fist bump.
Kellan did not bump it. Instead he looked at Gavin like he should know the solution to this problem he’d created.
To be clear, Gavin didn’t know the answer. Skittles in the nose was more of a Rachel area of expertise.
“Dad?” Kellan asked, again with the tremble. “What if it goes into my brain?”
“It’s not going to go into your brain,” Molly assured him. “We’ll just get it out.”
“How?” Kellan asked.
Molly glanced to Gavin, then back to Kellan. “Did you try blowing your nose?”
Kellan nodded. “It didn’t budge. I can feel it eating my brain.”
“That’s not how candy works,” Molly said like a promise, looking to Gavin like maybe he knew what to do.
He didn’t. Though, he did understand his son’s brain would probably be fine. Gavin was nearly sure. They didn’t exactly cover this in business school.
“Let me look.” Gavin got out his cell and turned on the flashlight.
“Always swipe, never pincer,” Molly said out of the side of her mouth. “First rule of removing a foreign object from a child.”
How the hell was he going to swipe up in his kid’s nose?
With no idea, Gavin then did something he never thought he’d do—he searched his kid’s nostril for candy.
“What color was it, bud?” Molly asked. Gavin wasn’t sure who she asked, since he was searching the nasal cavity of his oldest.
“Green.” Ollie said the word like duh. “So it looks like boogers.”
“That makes sense,” she said. He could practically see her curls bounce with her nod, though he was currently focused on the nostril.
It did not make sense.
Gavin tilted Kellan’s head the other direction, but there was not a green anything to be found. Just a lot of darkness. “You’re sure there’s a Skittle up there?” He turned off
the flashlight and studied his son. He seemed okay.
Kellan pointed to the bridge of his nose. “It’s by my eyeball.”
Suddenly, Gavin was exhausted. “What did your mom tell you about shoving things in your body that don’t belong there?”
Molly choke-coughed.
“She said don’t put things in myself,” Kellan said, somberly.
“Do you know why she said that?” Gavin asked.
“So he wouldn’t stick a Skittle up by his eyeball?” Brady oh-so helpfully supplied.
“Exactly.” Gavin stared at his phone, considering briefly Googling How to Remove Skittles From a Nostril, but deciding that Dr. Google probably wasn’t the best line of defense. Usually, it just made things worse.
“Maybe you should do the Heimlich thingy?” Brady
suggested.
“He’s not choking,” Gavin said, turning the idea over in his head. No, pressing on the kid’s sternum wouldn’t dislodge something in his nose. “That won’t work.”
“Can I give you some advice?” Molly asked, and at least she didn’t sound like she was going to rub salt in his wounded fatherly pride.
He heaved a breath and gritted his teeth. “What would you advise?”
“Urgent care.” She lifted her eyebrows and gave him a gentle look, like he’d given it his best shot and shouldn’t be too hard on himself. “You’re gonna need someone with a license to pry that candy out.”
“Does that mean I have to get a shot?” Kellan asked, clearly not okay with this scenario.
“What if the Skittle seeps into his brain and it starts the zombie apocalypse?” Brady asked, eyes huge.
Ollie gave Brady a high five. “That’d be awesome.” Kellan looked like he was about to have a stroke. “Am I going to be a zombie? I don’t want to be a zombie. I’ll just get the shot.”
“No. No shots.” Gavin made a nix it motion to Brady with his finger and his throat. “And the Skittle won’t bother your brain.”
His ability to smell long term? That was yet to be determined.
“What’s going on?” Agnes asked, her date by her side. The man introduced himself as Charlie while Molly gave Agnes the briefest of rundowns. Turned out Molly was excellent at condensing a situation down into a seriously bite sized information chunk.
“Why would you do a fool thing like that?” Charlie asked Kellan, his fluffy eyebrows pulling together in a remarkably effective scowl.
Kellan pursed his lips and pointed to the other boys. “They dared me.”
“We didn’t think he’d actually do it,” Brady said. “Twice,” Ollie added. “The first one came out.”
Oh, yes, Gavin was getting tired. Fatherly fatigue was definitely setting in.
“If I did everything someone dared me to do, I’d have one testicle and half an ear,” Charlie said, gruffly.
Molly did not seem to like that. “Charlie—”
“Make your own choices in life,” Charlie finished.
Apparently they were doing life lessons, Skittles edition. Gavin should probably take notes for later. Life lessons were always a good thing to record.
“I’m going to need a napkin,” Charlie announced, taking command like he was a general and they were ready for battle.
Gavin wasn’t sure what the guy had in mind, but he was pretty certain he didn’t have one of those license things Molly was going on about before.
“Dad.” Kellan gripped Gavin’s hand. “What’s he gonna do?”
Honestly? Gavin didn’t know. But he was probably willing to give whatever the napkin thing was a solid shot if it meant staying out of the urgent care.