Conklin's Corruption (#3) (Conklin's Trilogy) by Brooke Page

anything, another burst of liquid shot out of her mouth.  I dodged it before it made contact with my shoes.  I gagged again, but this time I got a look from Becca.
    “This is disgusting,” I choked out, pulling my shirt from my skin.
    “Would you go get some napkins!”  Becca scolded. 
    Napkins for what?  My drenched shirt?  Josie didn’t have a drop of puke on her.  It all came projecting out of her tiny body onto me. 
    I gagged again as I looked down at my shirt when I leaned to get the diaper bag to hand to Becca.  “I’m going to get a shirt from the gift shop.”
    Becca held Emmett with one hand and patted Josie’s back with the other.  She was crying inconsolably now.
    “Hurry, please!” she said through clenched teeth.  Emmett was starting to fuss from all the commotion.
    I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the gift shop, the entire concession looking at me with scrunched faces as they tried to eat their food.
    Yeah, ice cream was a dumb idea.
    Holding my shirt from my skin with one hand, I browsed the gift shop t-shirts.  I didn’t care what was on it; I just needed one in my size.  “Don’t you have any in size large?” I grumbled.
    The lonely worker in the tiny shop covered her mouth as she looked me over.  “The only size large we have are in hot pink or lavender,” she said through her covered mouth.
    I stared at her.  I knew this shop was tiny, but really?  They didn’t have any larges in other colors?
    “What about extra larges?”
    She shook her head no, avoiding looking at me.  Only if we could switch places.  It’s a lot easier to look at puke than have it touching you.
    I grumbled and grabbed the hot pink shirt and tossed it on the counter while pulling out my wallet.  As she swiped my card, I pulled off the puke soaked shirt and tossed it in the garbage can, quickly pulling on the gaudy shirt.  Thank God she didn’t get any on my cargos.
    The gift shop worker made a disgusted sound and looked in the trash can.  What did she expect?  I was going to take it home? 
    I left without my receipt and walked back outside to Becca.  Now everyone was going to be blinded by my hot pink shirt instead of losing their stomachs because of the puke.
    Thankfully, Becca and the kids had moved to a different location away from the splattered vomit on the ground.  Emmett was fussing harder now, and Josie was still teary eyed.  Becca stood the second I walked next to them, practically throwing Emmett at me.
    I had never held a baby in my life.  I didn’t put my hands up to take him, but just looked at her with a blank stare.  “Tyler!  Hold him so I can take care of Josie!”  Becca shouted.  I winced and reluctantly put my hands out to take the crying baby.  I held him at arm's length.  He stopped crying as he took me in, studying who was holding him.  I think he could tell the only thing I held with care that was around the same size as him was a baseball glove.
    I raised my brows at his scrutinizing stare then his lip started to pout again.  Emmett’s little body squirmed as huge alligator tears fell down his face.
    “Tyler!  Hold him closer to you!” 
    I awkwardly tried to bring him to my chest, but he just squirmed more.
    “Becca, he doesn’t want me!” I said as I tried to comfort the little guy.   He was flailing his arms and causing a scene.
    “I can’t hold him right now.  Try bouncing him.  I need to change Josie’s shirt.”
    Change her shirt? “Did she even get any puke on it?  I think she mainly got me!”
    Becca groaned as she maneuvered a t-shirt from the diaper bag over Josie’s pigtails.  “Just try bouncing him!” 
    I pulled him as close to my chest as he would let me, awkwardly attempting to bounce up and down with him.  We must have been fun to watch.  A crying three-year-old stubbornly changing her shirt and a screaming baby thrashing its little arms and legs while Becca and I argued.  I bet we looked like parents of the year.