10
T HE SCHOOLS WERE closed for Martin Luther King’s Birthday, and Rick jumped at the chance to take Livvy to Sterling Commons Mall for a little father-daughter time. Their first stop had become a tradition: Mrs. Fields Cookies. Livvy pressed her face against the glass display case as the lady behind the counter readied a bag.
“Daddy, can I have a giant cookie today? Please?” She looked up at Rick, one eyebrow raised.
“Honey, I think if you got a giant cookie, I’d have to help you eat it,” Rick said. “And you know what a big mouth I have.”
Livvy’s face squinched up.
“You could pick out a regular sized cookie,” Rick said. “Or you could get a brownie. I think that’s what I’m going to have.” He pointed to a tray of dark chocolate brownies at the top of the case.
“Okay, Daddy. That’s what I’m going to have, too. But no nuts. Just a plain chocolate brownie. With icing.”
“Of course with icing. Do they make brownies any other way?” Rick knew that’s what Livvy would get. That’s what she got every time they came to Mrs. Fields. Livvy was a certified junior chocoholic.
Rick paid for their treats and they strolled toward the children’s play area.
During the spring and summer, Rick didn’t frequent the mall. But in the winter, as an antidote to cabin fever, he often braved the crowds with Livvy. A habit he and Barb had started when Livvy was a few months old and one they’d perpetuated. With Winn bringing her here from time to time, Livvy would often hit the mall two or three times a week, especially when it was too cold outside for some more wholesome activity. Some people had winter homes in Boca. Livvy had one with a view of Nordstrom.
Rick didn’t mind. Today’s mall, like yesteryear’s town square, offered people a place to meet and mingle. The bright lights and bustling shoppers helped lift the winter doldrums, and Livvy could run around and scream and spill Cheerios to her heart’s content without anyone getting ticked at her.
In the play area, all of the molded plastic playthings were themed like an airport, a nod to nearby Dulles. A bunch of planes, a runway, and a four-foot control tower entertained the under-six crowd. One of the airplanes even had “FedEx” painted on its side. Rick wondered if they had to pony up some product placement money.
“Wow. Look at all the kids here,” Rick said.
“I like it when it’s crowded. There’s more kids to play with.”
Rick smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think today was a school holiday.”
Livvy rolled her eyes at Rick. “Daddy,” she said, drawing the word out like it was four or five syllables. “It is a holiday.”
Rick gave her his best innocent face, then steered her over to a bench being vacated by a mom with a stroller. “Here, have a seat. We can eat our snacks and then you can go play. ’Kay?” He pulled a Juicy Juice drink box out of his coat pocket and handed it to Livvy, along with her brownie.
She took the juice box and pierced the top with the little straw. Took a short slurp of juice, then started in on her chocolate fix.
In front of them, dozens of kids ran from one miniature airplane to the next, like bumblebees buzzing from flower to flower, not wanting to miss a drop of nectar. “Remember last year, when we took an airplane to see Grandma up in Boston?” Rick took a bite of his brownie, careful to catch all the crumbs with his tongue. Livvy came by her sweet tooth honestly.
Livvy’s eyes lit up. “That was fun. I took all those pictures of the clouds.”
Gotta love digital cameras. Livvy took more than seventy pictures out the window. Forget Paul Revere and Fanueil Hall. Livvy’s memory of her trip to Boston consisted of fluffy white cloud photos.
Livvy stuffed the last bite of brownie into her mouth and pulled her shoes off without untying the laces. “I’m done, Daddy.” Before Rick could comment, she scooted off the bench and darted for the closest jumbo jet.
T HE SCHOOLS WERE closed for Martin Luther King’s Birthday, and Rick jumped at the chance to take Livvy to Sterling Commons Mall for a little father-daughter time. Their first stop had become a tradition: Mrs. Fields Cookies. Livvy pressed her face against the glass display case as the lady behind the counter readied a bag.
“Daddy, can I have a giant cookie today? Please?” She looked up at Rick, one eyebrow raised.
“Honey, I think if you got a giant cookie, I’d have to help you eat it,” Rick said. “And you know what a big mouth I have.”
Livvy’s face squinched up.
“You could pick out a regular sized cookie,” Rick said. “Or you could get a brownie. I think that’s what I’m going to have.” He pointed to a tray of dark chocolate brownies at the top of the case.
“Okay, Daddy. That’s what I’m going to have, too. But no nuts. Just a plain chocolate brownie. With icing.”
“Of course with icing. Do they make brownies any other way?” Rick knew that’s what Livvy would get. That’s what she got every time they came to Mrs. Fields. Livvy was a certified junior chocoholic.
Rick paid for their treats and they strolled toward the children’s play area.
During the spring and summer, Rick didn’t frequent the mall. But in the winter, as an antidote to cabin fever, he often braved the crowds with Livvy. A habit he and Barb had started when Livvy was a few months old and one they’d perpetuated. With Winn bringing her here from time to time, Livvy would often hit the mall two or three times a week, especially when it was too cold outside for some more wholesome activity. Some people had winter homes in Boca. Livvy had one with a view of Nordstrom.
Rick didn’t mind. Today’s mall, like yesteryear’s town square, offered people a place to meet and mingle. The bright lights and bustling shoppers helped lift the winter doldrums, and Livvy could run around and scream and spill Cheerios to her heart’s content without anyone getting ticked at her.
In the play area, all of the molded plastic playthings were themed like an airport, a nod to nearby Dulles. A bunch of planes, a runway, and a four-foot control tower entertained the under-six crowd. One of the airplanes even had “FedEx” painted on its side. Rick wondered if they had to pony up some product placement money.
“Wow. Look at all the kids here,” Rick said.
“I like it when it’s crowded. There’s more kids to play with.”
Rick smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think today was a school holiday.”
Livvy rolled her eyes at Rick. “Daddy,” she said, drawing the word out like it was four or five syllables. “It is a holiday.”
Rick gave her his best innocent face, then steered her over to a bench being vacated by a mom with a stroller. “Here, have a seat. We can eat our snacks and then you can go play. ’Kay?” He pulled a Juicy Juice drink box out of his coat pocket and handed it to Livvy, along with her brownie.
She took the juice box and pierced the top with the little straw. Took a short slurp of juice, then started in on her chocolate fix.
In front of them, dozens of kids ran from one miniature airplane to the next, like bumblebees buzzing from flower to flower, not wanting to miss a drop of nectar. “Remember last year, when we took an airplane to see Grandma up in Boston?” Rick took a bite of his brownie, careful to catch all the crumbs with his tongue. Livvy came by her sweet tooth honestly.
Livvy’s eyes lit up. “That was fun. I took all those pictures of the clouds.”
Gotta love digital cameras. Livvy took more than seventy pictures out the window. Forget Paul Revere and Fanueil Hall. Livvy’s memory of her trip to Boston consisted of fluffy white cloud photos.
Livvy stuffed the last bite of brownie into her mouth and pulled her shoes off without untying the laces. “I’m done, Daddy.” Before Rick could comment, she scooted off the bench and darted for the closest jumbo jet.
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