She forced in a shuddering breath. She wasn’t equipped to handle a swarm of bees. Somebody else needed to step up—some responsible adult like Richard. Swallowing hard, she swung around. He was already in the SUV, out of earshot.

Cursing under her breath, she crushed the milkshake cup in one hand. Sam was too young to go to the trashcan alone. Only an idiot would send him. Knees wobbling, she groped for the back of the bench. Her fingers adhered to gunk-coated slats. Where was her Softee Freeze hero to save the day?

“Tessa! Help!”

Sam’s terror cut through her rising panic. She fastened her gaze on the child, and the edges of his small form sharpened. Every detail came into stark relief. She saw the glob of ice cream on his right eyebrow. The smudge of chocolate across the tyrannosaurus rex on his tee. The wings of a bee traversing the cuff of his shorts. The ice cream stand blurred, and Sam alone stood out in high definition at the end of a tunnel.

She was the grown-up on call. This emergency was on her. Hurling the trash, she dashed across the lot. “I’m coming!”

With every step, the angry cloud loomed larger. Sam’s sugar-soaked clothing lured them like honey. How could she get him to safety?

His face was white. His balled fists trembled by his thighs. “Make them go away,” he whimpered.

She slowed to a creep. At close range, the swarm resolved more clearly. No ordinary honeybees, these were yellow jackets. She gritted her teeth. Yellow jackets were mean to the core.

In her periphery, fuzzy outlines of children pointed and stared.

Adults seized them by the shoulders and fled.

A car door slammed.

“What’s going on?”

Richard’s shout was a million miles away. “It’s all right, Sam.” She soothed him like a frightened animal. “Just drop those napkins on the ground, okay?”

Globs of matted paper plopped next to Sam’s sneakers.

“Bees only get angry when people hit them and make quick movements that scare them. Don’t move.” The humming grew louder with every step. Her mind whirred at the speed of tiny wings. She wanted to grab him and run, but if she did, she risked crushing countless hornets against his skin.

“Please go away, bees,” he said through tears.

“Tessa?” Richard called again.

She drew a long, slow breath and sharpened her focus once more. Sam stood like a miniature soldier, arms stiff at his sides, clothing alive with insects. Where could she grab him without both of them getting stung?

Wait. Yes! He was protected in one place. “Sam, when I say ‘go,’ lift your arms just a bit—just a little, teensy bit, okay?”

“Okay.”