Not to be outdone, I offer my son his Trader Joe’s trail mix.
Summer is all good with her pocket snacks.
And Grammie Todd is calmly snacking on prunes while looking at no one, and yet I have a feeling she’s aware of everything that everyone is saying and doing. Very Yoda-like. She twitches and glances over at me all of a sudden, narrowing her eyes, and I’m certain that she just heard my thoughts.
I stare at my kid, pretending not to notice.
Ryder has been so happy to be with Tate, who’s the same age as him, and with Shane’s son Lucky, who’s a year older. Lucky’s twin, Summer, has been moping because she’s the only girl. She’s also been flirting with me, Nico, and every male costumed Disney character we’ve passed by since Main Street. Right now, she’s heckling the boys’ fart jokes. Ryder is in the middle of telling one now: “What do you call it when someone farts in an elevator? … Nothing, because you’re holding your breath!”
“Nice one, buddy.” I hold up my hand for a high-five.
Instead, he wraps his hand around my index finger and pulls on it.
So I make a fart sound with my mouth.
“What do you call the bean burrito I ate for lunch fifty years ago?” Grammie asks. “An old fart. Like me.”
She looks so serious that the kids don’t realize she’s being funny.
Nobody does.
Until we all do, and everyone bursts out laughing.
Grammie Todd for the win.
I guess I can have fun without Emilia.
But now I just want to get her naked and tell her about the fart jokes.
When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I get a little excited, until I see that it’s my ex-wife FaceTiming me again. I accept the video call because I know she’ll just keep calling and texting if I don’t. She’s beautiful as always, but I can tell she hasn’t had enough sleep.
“Hey. It’s really not the best time, Nova.”
“Alex, I miss him so much. I need to see his face.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Sighing, I flip my phone around and aim it at Ryder so she can see him.
He and Tate and Lucky are doubled over laughing.
“Hey buddy, turn around. Look who’s on FaceTime for you. Hey! Ryder. Turn around.”
He finally turns around once he’s able to stand up straight again. As soon as he focuses on the phone and sees Nova, his face lights up. “Mom! Look—I’m with my friends at Disneyland!”
“Hey, baby! Alex, hold the phone still,” she snaps. “Baby, I’m so happy to see you. I miss you so much.”
“We’re at Pirates of the Caribbean! We’ve already been to the Haunted Mansion, um, and I was only a little scared this time, and we saw the Halloween Carvinal—”
“Carnival,” I correct him.
“—and we did the Goofy’s Sky School one twice, and I wasn’t even scared at all this time! Well, maybe just a little, but not like last time, and I haven’t thrown up once yet!”
“I’m so proud of you,” she coos. “I wish I could be there with you. Do you miss me? I really miss you this morning.”
“Yeah. I do.” He scratches his head. “Are you having fun?” he asks her.
“Sometimes.”
“I am! We haven’t even been to Auto-pee-ah yet, and that’s my favorite!”
“Autopia,” I remind him, but he knows this and also, he’s not paying attention because the kids are freaking out about a nearby duck like they’ve never seen a duck before.
“Okay, well, I guess it’s hard for you to focus,” Nova says, disappointed. “I’ll try you again tomorrow.”
I turn the phone to face myself again and find that she’s already ended the call.
Ryder finally looks back at my phone. “Hey Mom, there’s a duck waiting in line for the ride!”
“She had to go, buddy. We hung up.”
“Oh. Is she mad?”
“No, not at all. She’s just tired.”
Ryder looks concerned for another half a second before remembering something really important. “Hey! I got one!” He pats Lucky and Tate on their shoulders. “Why did the duck cross the road? Because Summer farted.”
“Hey! I did not!” Summer looks exactly like Swearing Emoji Face, but Shane manages to grab on to her before she lunges for my son, who, let’s face it, probably has a crush on her.
Grammie isn’t giving me the side-eye. Instead, she’s muttering out of the side of her mouth while standing next to me and staring straight ahead. “Bit of a piece of work, your ex, eh?”
“Nova? She’s not so bad.”
She rolls her eyes. This lady has had many decades to perfect her eye roll and her sarcastic tone. “Oh well, that’s a relief. Is your tongue seeing anyone special nowadays?”
“My tongue is technically available right now, Mrs. Todd. And yours?”
She scoffs and practically lays me out with a hard stare. “Don’t even try to flirt with me, kid. You couldn’t handle me if you tried.”
“You’re absolutely right, ma’am. Had to take my shot, though.”
She winks at me before barking at the kids to settle down.
She scares me on so many levels.
I take a step back and look around. Usually when I’m among the masses, I wonder to myself: How can I reach these people? What stories do they want to be told? How can I tell them in a way that will appeal to them but also make them think a little differently?
But right now, I’m wondering if there’s even one person here that I could be attracted to the way I am to Emilia.
Disneyland is basically the opposite of that nightclub, but it doesn’t change the fact that no other woman appeals to me now.
Other women keep texting and leaving voice messages, friends and agents keep trying to hook me up with their friends or clients, and I keep telling them I’m too busy to hang out. I’m busy with work and Ryder and fucking my hand while thinking about Emilia. I’m just wondering how much longer I can wait to be with her, and I know for sure the answer isn’t until June.
And then all of a sudden, like a mirage, she appears.
Exiting the Pirates of the Caribbean, with two exceptionally good-looking guys who are more into each other than her, but one of them is holding her hand and pulling her along. She looks a little unhappy and pouty. And so fucking pretty. Just in a T-shirt and jeans and no makeup. And a Nightmare Before Christmas fanny pack. But she still looks hot.
It’s the weirdest feeling, seeing her. Probably the way I’d feel if I see her at a school event, except that right now I could—I could pull her aside and just…something. But I can’t leave Ryder. And she wouldn’t want me to.
“Who is that young lady you’re staring at with such conflicted longing, Tongue?”
“Huh?” I glance over at Grammie Todd, and I’m so shocked to see that she’s looking at me with genuine concern that I forget about Emilia for a second.
When I look back, I see that she and her companions have stopped to discuss where to go next. Emilia is pointing at a piece of paper and then at her phone, and I would bet all my money that she had planned out their day to the minute and her friends aren’t adhering to her plan.
“Someone. It’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t look very complicated to me, Daddy-o. Maybe Ryder should sit beside me on this next ride. If you want to go use the restroom or make a phone call…”
I don’t know.
Does this count as abandoning my son for a woman?
But I mean—he’s having so much fun with the kids, and I trust these guys and Grammie to look after him.
And I mean—Pirates of the Caribbean is barely even a ride. It’s just a bunch of people sitting in a boat. Sure, it’s a little creepy, but it’s not dangerous. He probably won’t fall into the fake swamp water. If Grammie Todd can’t keep him in line, then no one can. He’s having such a good time, he won’t even notice if I’m gone for a little while.
And Emilia looked like she could use some cheering up.
&
nbsp; And what are the chances we’d both be at Disneyland today?
Or that I’d see her at all, among all these people?
Fuck it.
I’m going in.
17
Alex
After explaining to Ryder that I’ll meet everyone at the Blue Bayou restaurant in an hour and realizing that he might not even notice I’m gone, I sidle on up to the most annoyed, judge-y hot glasses woman in the happiest place on earth.
“You need to take, like, eleven chill pills, Hermione,” the taller guy tells her. “We can go to Fantasyland after dinner. When the kids are gone.”
“The kids are never going to be gone from Disneyland, Franklin.” She shakes her head. “Maybe I should just meet you guys somewhere in like an hour.”
“I was just heading over to Fantasyland myself,” I say, stopping to stand right behind her.
When she turns around and sees me, at first there’s a flash of joy and relief. But now I know what conflicted longing looks like. I recognize it in her expression, plain as day.
And it just makes me want to grab her and kiss her even more.
“Hi,” she says and then clears her throat because she barely has a voice all of a sudden. “What are you doing here?”
“Heading over to Fantasyland, like I said.” I hold my hand out to the guy she called Franklin. “Hi. I’m Alex.”
Franklin takes my hand in both of his. “Please tell me you’re Alex the Hot Dad from Vomit Night.”
Emilia covers her face with her Disneyland schedule and mutters every word that’s not allowed in a Disney movie, and I think I hear her say “Fuck you, Ferris.”
“That is exactly who I am.”
“I’m Brody from Vomit Night,” the other guy says, offering his hand.
“Nice to meet you guys.”
Franklin tries to move the printout from Emilia’s face, but she slaps his hand away. “Well, Brody and I were just going to do Indiana Jones, so…we’ll meet you at Café Orleans in like an hour, yeah baby cakes?” He doesn’t wait for her to agree before pulling Brody away.
“Bye, Sexy Daddy,” Brody calls out with a wave.
I carefully slide the printout from between Emilia’s fingers and take a look at it while giving her a chance to gather her wits. Just as I imagined, her list is color and time coded but with the added benefit of Disney stickers. Her schedule appears to be arranged according to theme, rather than efficiency. Interesting. And totally fucking wrong, but I’m not going to tell her so.
Peter Pan’s Flight is at the top of her list, and I’m on board with that.
“Shall we?” I gesture toward Main Street.
She pushes her loose hair behind both ears, nodding.
“You here with Ryder?”
“Yeah, I left him with a nice couple back in Frontierland. It’s cool. We’ll meet up at the tram later. You having a good time here so far?”
She wrinkles her nose and says without looking at me, “I’m starting to.” She nudges my arm with her elbow. “I was just thinking about you.”
“About me? The Hot Dad from Vomit Night?”
“That’s what Franklin calls you, not me.”
“How’ve you been?” It’s embarrassing how much I want to hear her say that she lost her phone three days ago.
“Okay. Catching up on grading and lesson plans. Doing this volunteer thing after school.”
“Yeah?”
“How are you? Where is Ryder, really?”
“He’s with my friends and their kids, in line for Pirates of the Caribbean. He’s having a good day.”
She smiles, seemingly very glad to hear that my son is having a good day, and fuck it warms my heart. “That’s good. He’s been doing really well in class lately.”
“So he tells me.”
A huge group of people in matching T-shirts and hats approaches us when we pass by the Partners statue, and Emilia squeezes up against me when people step around us. I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her in even closer as we walk through the crowd. The fresh-baked cookie smell of Main Street mingles with the scent of her shampoo, and I think I’m inhaling what I want my home to smell like for the rest of my life. Before the crowd disperses, I squeeze her shoulder and let my hand slide down her back.
She keeps staring down at the pavement in front of us as we walk through Sleeping Beauty’s Castle into Fantasyland. “I think October is my favorite month here,” she says.
This makes me smile. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“The air feels different. The sky’s different. I don’t know. It’s quieter. There’s a bittersweet quality or something. This city doesn’t seem as obnoxious right now.”
“Are you going to the Halloween parade in West Hollywood with your friends, by any chance?”
She laughs. “Um. No. I don’t think I’m ready to rage that hard, and I’d lose them in forty-five seconds anyway. Are you planning to attend?”
“Maybe after I take Ryder trick-or-treating. You dressing up for Halloween at school?”
“Why yes, I am. I have a couple of different costumes for next week, actually. Are you going to come for the school parade?”
“I actually have a meeting that I can’t get out of that morning.”
I like how disappointed she seems.
“Hey. Can I buy you an ice cream?” I ask as we pass an ice cream cart.
“I already had one of those Dole Whip things about an hour ago. You go ahead.”
“Nah. I just wanted to watch you eat a chocolate-covered frozen banana.”
“I don’t think you could handle it.”
“Yeah. Probably for the best.”
It feels like we’re on a kinda awkward first date. I like it. Even though I already know it won’t end the way most of my dates end. But it’s a start. I’m dying to hold hands with her, but there’s always a chance someone from school could be here.
The line for Peter Pan’s Flight is short, as always, and moving pretty quickly. One of several reasons why I chose this particular ride to go on with her. “You’ve been on this ride before, right?”
She nods. “Yes. But not since I was much younger. I loved it.” She pauses before continuing. “The last time I came here, I was with my ex-boyfriend, and he refused to go on the little kid rides.”
“Sounds like kind of a dick, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
She smiles. “I do not mind. But I mean, he wasn’t a dick, exactly. He just wasn’t into kid stuff.”
“Dicks are never into kid stuff. That’s why they’re dicks.”
“Hmm, true dat.” She waves her hand in front of my face. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”
“I’ll never forget it.”
By the time we get to the front of the queue and she focuses on the two-seater enchanted flying pirate ships, I watch her face and know that she’s realizing what I’ve known ever since we left Adventureland.
It’s just going to be the two of us, on a dark ride, for about two minutes.
And I’m gonna kiss her.
And I know when she smirks, reaches into her fanny pack, and brings out a tube of lip balm, that she wants me to.
I let her climb into the seat first. Even though I usually prefer to make my approach from the left when seated and making a move with the ladies, I will make this work from any angle.
When the safety bar is lowered above our laps, I glance over and see her rubbing her lips together a little nervously.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s not that scary of a ride.” I give her a little wink.
“It’s a little bit scarier when I’m sober.”
The vessel lurches forward, and we’re off to Never Never Land.
I rest my arm on the back of the seat, behind her neck. “There’s no turning back now.”
And there’s no time to waste. As soon as we’re in the dark, flying over early 20th Century London and being serenaded by the least sexy music ever, I lean in and touch my hand to her face to turn her toward me. Ther
e’s no hesitation. Loud recorded voices all around us are singing, “You can fly! You can fly! You can fly!” but her tilted head, her parted lips, her whole body is a murmured whisper of fuck yes, Alex, yes.
I press my mouth to hers and kiss her slow and gentle at first. Her soft lips respond in perfect rhythm with mine.
There are hidden cameras all over the park, I know this, so I’ll keep it to PG-13 kissing. But there are a million kinds of kisses I want to give her, and I’m not waiting until the end of the movie to get to them. She tastes like cherry lip balm and pineapple and vanilla and my favorite month and the thing that’s been missing from my life all along.
I brush her hair out of the way to trail kisses down her neck, and the way her head falls back, the way she clutches at my jacket with one hand and the back of my neck with the other, it propels me with a sense of urgency even more than the ticking clock of this agonizingly short ride.
But I have to control myself.
“God, I want you,” I mutter as my mouth finds hers again. But I can’t touch her the way I want to. I can’t run my fingers through her hair, and I can’t grab her hips or pull her up onto my lap because of the fucking safety bar and the fucking hidden cameras. So I grab on to the safety bar with one hand and the back of the seat with the other and I let my mouth and tongue tell her just a few of the many things that I plan to do to every other part of her with it one of these days.
I tell her with a long run-on sentence of languid swirls and delicate sucking and determined sweeping and penetration and very light tugging with my teeth.
I tell her with brief and to-the-point statements of my intention to ruin her for any other man, ever.
I don’t think I’ve been so aware of all the nerve endings in my lips since I was a teenager. I fucking love kissing her, but she’s growing more frantic by the second. And I’m realizing that Peter Pan has just rescued the Darlings from Captain Hook. That means we’re about to be catapulted back into the light of day, so I do the opposite of what I want to do—I pull away from her.
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