Page 10 of Rubber Duckie Shifter Next Door

“This place is amazing!” Lisa shouts, giving chase.

Anna races after her twin. I’m about to shout for the kids to slow down when Reaper blows the whistle hanging around his neck.

The kids spin around. Their bright, sunny faces are an in-my-face reminder of just how miserable they’ve been these last few days.

I’m a terrible guardian. They deserve better.

The worst part is that we’ve always gotten along. But that was when I visited for the occasional birthday or Christmas dinner. The kids like me in small doses. They were even happy for the first few days after Ada left. And then, they had enough of me.

It’s all my fault. I should have started with monthly visits, or every other weekend. My dad did that, and it worked out. Well, minus the part where he’d forget me at the grocery store or the mall from time to time.

Still… scheduled visits are a good place to start. Assuming that after this train wreck of a week, Ada lets me anywhere near the kids.

Get your act together, Rachel.

I discreetly remove my hand from Sig’s and take in the sprawling water park. “You really built this entire place?”

He nods. “Do you like it?”

I spin around full circle. “It’s amazing!”

And I’m not lying. The place is huge, and each ride looks better than the last. Even the duckies make me smile despite this morning’s incident. Not to mention the kids are finally happy. What more could I ask for?

Sig grins. “Opening Rubber Duckie World was my dream since I was a kid! Grandad was a duckie collector. He had hundreds in his basement, but to me, it always felt like duckie prison.” He rubs the back of his neck. “A collection like that shouldn’t be hidden away. It’s meant to be admired. So I promised myself that one day, I’d build a place where all the duckies could be free.”

His cheeks take on an endearing flush, and I resist the urge to kiss him.

“You did way better than a basement,” I tell him honestly. “These are some lucky duckies.”

Sig grins. “And you are going to love this next part.” He leads us toward the changing rooms and turns to the kids. “What’s the number one rule of Rubber Duckie World?”

They look stumped. I am too.

“Everyone has to shower before they’re allowed on any of the rides.”

I wait for the kids to argue, but they cheer. They actually cheer!

If I knew all it took to get them cleaned up was taking them to a water park… I’d have been hard out of luck.

Sig turns to me and lowers his voice. “Normally, I’m firmly Team Bath, but we had to take sanitation, water usage, efficiency, and accessibility under consideration, and it just wasn’t workable for the public change rooms.”

He sounds apologetic, like it’s a major sticking point.

“Showers do make more sense,” I whisper back.

We head inside, change into bathing suits, and hit the showers. I expect something boring and functional, but water flows out of large, cheerful rubber duck bills. The kids have a great time. They even let me help them scrub off some of the grime.

By the time we’re ready to go, a few other Rubber Duckie World employees—all dressed in bright yellow—join us.

Sig claps his hands. I try to ignore how delicious he looks in yellow board shorts and matching flip flops. “Which ride do you want to go on first?”

“Quack Attack!” I shout, then remember that I’m supposed to act like a responsible—boring—adult. And that I really need to stop ogling the man. “I mean… why don’t we let the kids decide…”

They start pointing in various directions, shouting descriptions of rides, and getting progressively louder and louder.

Before the situation can get out of hand, Reaper blows his whistle. The kids instantly fall silent.

Sig clears his throat, and I try not to stare at his lips as he speaks. “I recommend starting with a few of the smaller slides first and working our way up. Who wants to try the Duckie Drift?”