Page 268 of Wild Card 13

Marco raised his hand.

“No theatrics,” Bea warned.

His hand lowered slowly.

Rafa, who had been quiet most of the afternoon, stepped forward and set his glass down.

Bea sat up. “Pai?”

Rafa loosened his cuffs with great seriousness. “I am participating.”

Alois blinked.

Ezra looked delighted in a way he tried very hard to hide.

Rafa moved to the table, took his place beside Marco, and inspected the doll in front of him like it had insulted his lineage.

“Mr. Ribeiro,” Marco said, “I feel obligated to warn you that I am extremely competitive.”

Rafa did not look at him. “I raised Beatriz.”

Bea covered her face.

Freya bent at the waist laughing.

Rafa continued, perfectly calm. “Nothing you do can frighten me.”

That was when I decided I loved him a little.

Lo counted down, and the yard erupted.

Marco talked to his doll the entire time. Harry swore at a diaper tab. Zee somehow removed the diaper and then could not remember where he had placed the new one. Jonah offered motivational encouragement to everyone, which helped no one. Reed’s oldest daughter shouted corrections with the bloodlust of a tiny coach.

Rafa worked in silence. Efficient. Focused. Mildly terrifying. He finished first, lifted both hands, and looked at Bea like he had just won her a championship.

Bea cried. Then laughed while crying, which made Alois take one immediate step toward her before Lo caught his sleeve and said softly, “She is allowed to have feelings.”

Alois stopped.

Bento used the moment to climb from his shoe to the lower edge of his pant leg.

Alois looked down. “No.”

Bento climbed higher.

Bobby leaned toward me. “The cat always wins.”

“I’m getting that.”

Across the yard, Lucy was laughing. Her hand covered part of her mouth, and her shoulders shook once before she got herself under control. Dottie sat at her feet, watching the diaper table like she believed someone had hidden whipped cream inside the dolls.

The next game was the stroller obstacle course. Lo explained that it was meant to be “lighthearted.” The Frosthawks heard competition. These were not the same thing.

Someone had arranged a winding route across the grass withsmall cones, ribbons tied between garden stakes, a soft mat meant to simulate uneven terrain, and a final station where the participant had to retrieve a diaper bag from a bench without tipping the stroller.

“Absolutely not,” Cam said when Harry tried to put on goalie gloves for added difficulty.

“You fear innovation,” Harry told him.