Chloe
“Absolutely not.”
I chuckled, trying and failing to pull Chef Patel from where she was rooted in place on Sunday. Just like Will had promised, we were at Disney World, soaking up his full day off and staying the night in Orlando. We’d make the drive back home tomorrow morning before his late practice.
Our VIP tour guide, Juan, was busying Will and Ava with some fun facts about the Mad Tea Party — the ride Chef was refusing to partake in.
“You’re being such a Will right now,” I said. “A real turkey!”
“I will hold your things,” she offered, grabbing the backpack I had full of snacks, water, sunscreen, and other items I thought we might need. “And will be waiting right here when you get done.”
“Come on, Arushi,” I begged. “You already sat out on Space Mountain and the Barnstormer.”
“And you did just fine on your own, didn’t you?” She pursed her lips. “I will be right here.”
“Fine,” I said with a heavy sigh. “But I’m going to make you ride It’s a Small World as punishment.”
“That damn song will be stuck in my head all day.”
“Sure you don’t want to do the teacups instead?”
She considered for a moment, then shook her head and lifted her chin. “I’ll survive Small World. But I’m not letting you twirl me around and make me vomit on this thing — especially after that hideous pretzel and cheese we just had and called lunch.”
“Mmm, I want another pretzel!” Ava said, popping up beside me with her eyes wide with glee. She’d been like that all morning, from the moment we’d stepped foot inside the park. It was almost impossible for me to remember her as she was before now, when I first started as her nanny. Gone was the child who barely smiled, barely laughed. It was as if once she realized how nice it felt to do both, she decided she never wanted to stop.
Today, her brown, wild hair was tamed into two long pigtails on either side of her head. The only way we’d been able to convince her to leave the hockey uniform at home was to promise to buy her a brand-new shirt once we got here. She proudly wore a pin on that pink Tinkerbell shirt that said First Visit!
“Maybe later,” I offered. “Or should we save room for some Mickey Mouse ice cream?”
“Oh! Ice cream!” Ava clapped and bounced, and then Will was joining us, his brows set low over his eyes.
How this man could scowl at the happiest place on Earth was beyond me — but he’d managed to all day.
We’d wrangled him into a t-shirt that Chef Patel and I had made that said “Disney Dad” on it — though he’d refused us once we’d tried to complete the look with a pair of Mickey ears. The shirt was almost too small for him, but only in the way that made the muscles of his arms impossible to ignore. I knew he had to be tired after a late game night, but perhaps the win had given him energy. Or perhaps he was just so excited to bring Ava here that he’d make the energy, if he had to.
Even through his grumpiness all morning, it had been the sweetest thing to watch him hold Ava’s hand as Juan led us safely around the park. He did his best to ignore the other guests as we passed them, especially when they pulled out their phones to take photos of him. A few had asked him for autographs and selfies, much to the dismay of Juan, who was doing all he could with security in tow to give us an unbothered experience.
But Will had handled it all in stride, smiling for the pictures and scribbling autographs before turning his attention right back to his daughter.
I’d listened intently all morning as he’d told her about Jenny’s favorite park — Magic Kingdom. We’d started in Tomorrowland, because it was how Jenny always started, and Ava had jumped for joy when she was just barely cleared as tall enough to ride Space Mountain. Will had dug up an old, printed photo of him and Jenny on the very same ride — Jenny smiling and yelling with her hands in the air while Will looked scared to death beside her.
It had gotten a good laugh out of all of us.
The morning zipped by in a rush of rides and food and games, along with Ava shopping her little heart out at every gift shop we passed. Our tour guide and Will were both loaded down with bags — bags Chef Patel happily held while we did most of the rides without her.
It turned out she had a major fear of rollercoasters, and also a fear of throwing up.
But I could tell that regardless of whether she rode the rides or not, Ava was happy Chef Patel was with us. She skipped and held her hand and chatted her ear off between rides, pointing at everything we passed and forcing Chef to take a picture with her and Goofy when we found him signing autograph books.
It had truly been a magical day so far — and now, we were ready to tackle the teacups ride.
At least, Ava and I were.
Arushi was sitting out, and the way Will was frowning at the ride, I wasn’t sure we wouldn’t have to beg him to join us, too.
“We could skip this one,” he offered grumpily. “We still have lots of park to cover before the fireworks.”
“But you said Mommy loved this one,” Ava reminded him, and I covered my smile with a hand as she tilted her wide eyes up at him.
No way could he say no to that look.
Will heaved a heavy sigh, looking up at the sky before he rubbed his daughter’s head. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”
“Yay!” Ava jumped into the air, clicking the heels of her light-up sneakers together before she hurriedly dumped her stuffed Dumbo into Chef’s waiting arms and took off in a sprint toward the line.
Juan took off after her as Will and I jogged to catch up. We were escorted to a shorter line, and were ushered onto the ride the very next round.
It would have been impossible for us to do Disney World the way I had in the past. Even with a tour guide and security, we’d had guests taking photos and hollering out to Will every chance they got. The more people made a scene, the more the guests around them asked who we were and got out their own phones.
Anyone who was a hockey fan knew him.
Anyone who wasn’t wanted to — because he was famous. He was a professional athlete. He was someone to take a picture of and post online and brag about being in the same vicinity of.
It was madness.
Our tour guide had offered several times for us to walk the park underground through the tunnels the staff used, but Will wanted Ava to get the full experience.
Even if that meant fending off the fans who spotted him.
“This one, this one!” Ava said, sliding into a teacup.
She scooted all the way to the back of the little bench surrounding the small round table center, and I took her left side while Will took the right.
“So the cups just spin on their own?” Ava asked when the ride attendant came by to shut the door to our teacup.
I was still chuckling at Will trying to get comfortable with how long his legs were. His knees were practically up to his chin as he grunted and forced them into the tiny space between the seats and the table in the middle.
“Yep,” he grated, and he gave me a warning look not to say otherwise.
I smiled mischievously. “Actually—”
“Chloe,” Will threatened.
It sent a shiver through me, and I found myself wondering if he’d find a fun way to punish me the next time we were alone.
I couldn’t even find it in me to be ashamed for those dirty thoughts — not since our first lesson in the kitchen last week. I felt that tantalizing burn of the Popsicle on my skin long after it had melted and we had cleaned up.
The entire thing was cemented in my mind, a delicious memory that replayed time and time again.
I still couldn’t get over it, how it felt to have his hands on me, to have his mouth on me. And how he’d managed to make me enjoy going down on him when I’d always thought that sounded like the worst thing in the world was beyond me.
I hadn’t just enjoyed it — I’d loved it. The way he looked at me, the sounds he made because of what I did to him, his hands gripping my hair and my name on his lips when he came undone… it was the most beautiful haunting.
The only disappointment I felt was when I thought about the shower after, when I wished for Will to tell me something he already told me he never would.
Sex was different with him — but that was all it was. Just sex.
As much as I was happy to agree to that, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t long to know him better, to curl up next to him after what we’d done and fall asleep in his arms, to wake up in his bed and see his crooked smile that wasn’t ever really a smile.
I tried to head the warnings and advice of the experts on Reddit, the ones who reminded me time and time again to lock up my feelings after we fooled around. Don’t ask questions and don’t stick around, they said. Don’t open up, and don’t mistake the way he touches you for anything more than lust.
But they weren’t there.
They didn’t see his heavy eyes drinking me in, or feel how his touch turned tender the moment we both found our release. They didn’t witness how those filthy words turned to gentle hands washing me in the shower, didn’t hear the way his voice trembled a bit as he asked if I was okay afterward.
It was all so confusing, I couldn’t even pretend I wasn’t in way over my head.
So, I chose to ignore it all and just live in whatever moment was right in front of me.
Presently, that was the opportunity to teach Will’s daughter how to get the most out of the teacup ride — and watch her father squirm in the process.
“See this table?” I said, ignoring Will’s groan of frustration as I showed Ava what to do. “Once we get going, this table will control how much and how fast we spin. We can go and go and go in one direction and then switch it to the other — like this.”
I demonstrated with my hands, showing how to spin one direction and then the other.
Ava bounced in her seat, the pigtails I’d wrangled her hair into that morning honestly too cute to handle in that moment. I knew now from the many photos of Jenny that Will had scrounged up that Ava had her mother’s eyes. They were bright green and full of curiosity.
“You ready?” I asked her as the ride began.
“Ready!”
“We really don’t have to— ergh!”
Will’s rebuttal was cut short by the first spin, and his hands flew to the table Ava and I were turning as fast as our little hands would let us.
The ride started slow at first, and then it picked up speed, our teacup rotating us so quickly, the world blurred. Ava fought against the force of gravity to hold onto the table, spinning and giggling as her little face turned red.
“Change, change!” I chanted, and Ava and I grabbed the wheel as hard as we could, the teacup lurching to a stop before we began swiveling the other way.
Will looked green, his hands jutting out to stop us from turning the table more. “Alright, that’s enough.”
“Come on, Daddy! Spin! Spin!”
Just as I suspected, Will couldn’t resist his daughter — not when she was having what I was pretty sure was the best day of her life.
Reluctantly, and with a dramatic growl, Will used his massive grip to help us pivot the table. The teacup swirled with more speed and intensity than it had with just me and Ava spinning it, and eventually, Ava threw her hands up in the air and let out the sweetest peal of laughter.
It was the kind of moment that stuck in your mind like glue, a core memory of an innocent child without an ounce of stress or worry on her shoulders. She was free. She was living.
She was happy.
The corner of Will’s mouth tilted up, and we shared a look across the teacup.
As if the world wasn’t already blurred beyond us, the look he gave me made it feel as if there was no world at all outside of this three-foot circumference. His honey eyes held fast to mine, questions and declarations unsaid.
Time slowed, Ava’s laugh ringing out loud and lovely in the background as Will swallowed, his brows furrowing together.
Just as soon as the moment had come, it was zapped away, the ride slowing to a halt while Ava panted and clapped and demanded to go again.
We toppled off the ride in a dizzy daze, Ava and me laughing as we walked side to side in our attempt to make it back to where Chef Patel and Juan were waiting for us without falling over.
“How was it?” Chef asked, handing Ava her Dumbo toy.
“Amazing!” Ava and I answered at the same time Will said, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
That earned a laugh from Juan and a wrinkled nose from Arushi, and then we all regrouped and headed on our merry way.
We zipped through Fantasyland and Liberty Square, pausing for a bit on Tom Sawyer Island while Ava took a nap in her dad’s arms. Chef Patel seemed grateful for the break, stretching out her legs and soaking up the sunshine while she dozed off in a little nap of her own.
Will and I sat silently next to each other, watching the boat travel back and forth, the people spilling onto the island and walking around a bit before piling back on to head back toward the rides and attractions.
It was the kind of day that made me happy I lived in Florida. The rest of the country was battling blizzards and freezing rain while we had a sunshiney day, the temperature in the seventies and a cool breeze flowing through the trees. It wasn’t a very busy day, either, especially considering it was a Sunday. And having the VIP tour made it easy to get through the park without much hassle of waiting in lines.
When we traipsed over to Adventureland, Chef accompanied Ava to the little girls’ room and Juan took his own leave. Will and I stood guard of all our belongings.
“It’s a very nostalgic place, isn’t it?” I commented, smiling at the sight of a family passing by — the mom pushing the stroller while a little boy rode on top of his dad’s shoulders.
“You come here a lot as a kid?” Will asked.
“Once.”
“Only once?”
“My mom wasn’t exactly a huge fan of Disney,” I explained.
“And I thought I was the scrooge,” Will mused. “Who doesn’t like Disney?”
I sighed, smiling even though my heart hurt a bit at the memory. “I begged my mom for the longest time to come here. She would never let me go when my friends invited me with their families. But one summer, between fifth and sixth grade, she finally brought me. It was just me and her.” I shook my head. “It was one of the best days of my life and one of the worst, too.”
I paused, unsure of whether to continue or not. I knew this was crossing a boundary Will had so clearly spelled out for us.
But then again… he’d asked, hadn’t he?
“Everything was fine until we passed by the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique. You know, where you can get your hair and makeup done and they dress you like a princess?” I laughed a bit to myself, staring down at my dirty white sneakers. “I wanted to do it so bad. I remember watching the other girls come out of the castle after getting their makeovers and just whining for my mom to please, please, please let me do one, too.
“But, to my mom, it was the equivalent of me asking to do cocaine,” I said. “She loathed the Disney princesses. She never wanted me to watch their movies. In fact, the ones I had seen were because I snuck them at my friends’ houses and just didn’t tell Mom.”
“Why did she hate them?”
“Because the women were dependent on men,” I answered, lifting my gaze to meet his. “Especially the older movies. It was all about getting married, giving up everything for love. Cinderella was just a poor stepchild until she found a prince. Ariel gave up her voice and mermaid tail to chase Eric on land.” I shrugged. “In my mom’s eyes, the men saved them — and the women wanted to be saved. That was the ultimate sin to my mother and went against everything she wanted to teach me.”
“What about Tiana, though?” Will argued. “She was a bad ass.”
I chuckled. “Okay, first of all — love that you know this. That movie had just come out, actually, right before our visit here. But my mom wouldn’t know how much of a bad ass Tiana was, or see the badassery in any of the princesses because she made her mind up about them years ago. I mean, come on — look at Jasmine! She was the ultimate baddie. She stood up to her father, refused to just be married away as a prize… and the way she played Jafar in the end?” I shook my head. “And Mulan? Hello? She literally fought in war. She was a hero!”
I shrugged, watching my toes again as I kicked a rock around.
“Anyway, it didn’t matter. Part of the reason my mom didn’t bring me here was because she was a single mom fighting to make ends meet as it was. Disney is expensive. And me continually begging to be turned into a princess set my mom into a rage. I can’t blame her, not entirely, anyway. She had done so much to bring me here and I was just too young to understand.” I paused. “She dragged me out of the park kicking and screaming. I wanted to stay for the fireworks. We hadn’t even made it to all the rides. But she was done.”
Will let out a soft sigh. “Disney is expensive,” he agreed. “I’m sure it was hard on her, being a single mom. But… gotta say. She sounds like a real man hater.”
“Grandma, too,” I said. “But they have their reasons. My grandfather and dad gave them plenty. I think they raised me the way they did out of the goodness of their hearts and a fierce need to protect me. They wanted me to be stronger. And, in a lot of ways, I’m thankful for that. Because I do feel independent. I feel like I can sit comfortably in my own company. I can be alone without being lonely. I can provide for myself and experience happiness without it being dependent on a partner.”
“You don’t ever think it would be nice to share it all with someone?”
The question knocked me off guard — so much so that any response I might have had got lodged in my throat.
I forced a smile up at him. “What about you? Did you ever come here as a kid?”
I saw in his frown how much he wanted to press me about his previous question, but he respected the nonverbal cue I gave enough to let it go.
“I grew up in Maine,” he offered as way of explanation. “Not as easy to just drive across I-4 and get here.”
“Fair,” I said.
“I came a few times with Jenny once she moved to St. Pete, though.” He seemed contemplative at that, but instead of going into more detail about his late wife, he turned the conversation back to his family. “I do remember Mom wanting to do a family vacation here, but even with both of them working hard, like you said… it was a lot of money to try to save up. And then I got into hockey, which is an expensive sport for even a well-off family.” He paused, swallowing. “And then mom got sick.”
The words hung between us, weighted and painful.
“When she passed, Dad didn’t really know what to do with me, I don’t think. He put all his spare money into making sure I had hockey, though. Looking back, especially as a father myself now, I don’t hold anything against him. He was doing the best he could. He couldn’t give me much in the way of words or affection, but he sacrificed a lot to make sure I had a team, a coach, a sport, a way to spend my time. He was just trying to survive and make sure I was okay.”
“That had to be so hard,” I whispered.
Will shrugged. “Kind of cruel, isn’t it?” His eyes found mine. “I lost my mom, and now Ava has to live without hers. Your mom never had a father, and neither did you.”
“I guess all we can do is make the most of the hand we’re dealt,” I said. “Kind of like what Ava says to you, right? We are doing our best.”
Will’s eyes flicked between mine, a ghost of a smile on his lips. It was like he wanted to laugh it off and nod and agree with me just as much as he wanted to cry and pull me into his arms and feel broken together.
In the end, Ava came barreling toward us, and the conversation ended with words unspoken.
