Page 62 of Rebound

Chapter 36

Seth

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath just as the server hands me a funnel cake. The sweet greasy smell makes me nauseous, but Layla wants one. I look down at my phone, cuss again, and slide it into my pocket. Someone snapped and posted a picture of me on social media. I’m wearing this silly Mickey Mouse hat that Layla insisted we all wear. The post itself is chaste. Luckily, it’s only of me and not of Jasmine and Layla. It’s the reposting that annoys me.

The caption says: He fucked me while wearing a Mischiefs hat.

I shake my head and decide to ignore it. I have no idea who this person is, so I’m not going to let her ruin my day, but I did tend to wear Mischiefs hats during my whore days. It was to keep sweat from falling down my face.

Jasmine reaches for the funnel cake the instant I set it on the table. Layla slides her phone away, but she was looking at the same social media post as me. She breaks off a piece of the disgusting treat, blows on it, and hands it to Jasmine who shoves the entire thing in her mouth.

“You think you can buy us some stuffed animals?” Layla asks with her mouth full. She points to a row of kiosks full of them. I cock my head to the side as if her question is stupid.

“Why do I have to buy them? I gave you a credit card. Use it,” he says.

“Men are supposed to,” she says before pointing at me. “At least I think you’re a man. I can’t tell just looking at you.”

“Men are supposed to? I know you didn’t learn that in the cult of Vickie. I’m going to tell her what you said.”

She steps closer and waves a fist in my face. I knock it away and roll my eyes.

“Please?” she whines. “I want Dumbo. He reminds me of you,” she cackles. As the words leave her mouth, Jasmine points at the kiosks too.

“Dada,” she says.

“Fine,” I say with a deep sigh even though inside I’m happier than I’ve ever been. “But on our way out. I’m not gonna be stuck carrying that crap all day.”

And that’s what we do. They finish the cake, and we go to Fantasyland. We have a special pass that allows us to skip the lines, and the three of us get on the rides together. We take pictures as a family. There are ones of us smiling and making silly faces. My favorite one is where we pretend to be serious. Jasmine’s in the middle and she purses her little pink lips shut.

Unbeknownst to Layla, I take several candid ones of her and Jasmine. There are several of her kissing my daughter’s forehead. There’s one of her looking down at her and smiling. I take one as she blows a giant bubble for Jasmine, who sticks her finger in it and then cries when it bursts. They do this three more times until Jasmine throws herself on the ground the last time.

Layla is like a little kid at the park, and I like seeing this side of her. She’s similar to me in that she didn’t grow up with much. Her family is loving but not well off financially. She looks at all the kiosks, and I can tell she wants to buy most of the junk they sell. On our way to another ride, I get a huge bagof cotton candy, and the three of us share it. By the time we get to the bottom of the bag, our fingers and our mouths are a combination of pink and blue. We all pucker up and smile for the camera.

I don’t know why I do it, but I send that one to my dad. I barely have time to put my phone away before he responds.

Dad: I miss you guys so much.

I don’t reply, but something tugs at my heartstrings. I put the phone away and decide to forget about him and focus on this day at the park with my family. My. Family. I like how that sounds, and in this moment, I’m resolved to do anything to keep us intact.

“This is exactly what I said I didn’t want to happen,” I whisper to Layla.

She sticks her tongue out at me, utterly unbothered by the fact that I have to carry all of these stupid stuffed animals. Jasmine is fast asleep in her stroller clutching her new Princess Jasmine stuffie. Layla pushes it on our way out of this damn park, and I look like an idiot carrying everything they made me buy. But I wouldn’t change anything about today. I’ve only been to the amusement park once when I was a kid, and that was because it was a school field trip. I was so worried my dad wouldn’t have the fifty-five dollars to pay for the trip, but he did. He left it for me on the coffee table and I forged his signature on the permission slip. I don’t know where he got the cash from, and I didn’t care. All I cared about was that I got to go. That’sthe only time that I can remember when he came through for me.

I told Layla and Jasmine they could each have two things, but Jasmine went nuts at the sight of the stuffed animals. So did my wife, who let my daughter choose whatever she wanted. The man at the kiosk put a hand to his heart, then he pulled out his phone and asked if it was okay for him to go live on social media.

I shrugged, uncaring. I pretended to be annoyed each time my wife picked out a stuffed animal. She held Jasmine’s hand, who jumped and pointed at everything.

The crowd came quickly. Everyone had their phones out while I followed my wife and daughter as they made their choices.

“I want all the Disney princesses,” Layla had said. “And two Princess Jasmines so Jazzy can have her own.” I never realized how bossy my wife could be, but I don’t complain. I let her get whatever she wants. “We’ll get Dumbo for you,” she says with a loud cackle. I roll my eyes, but I secretly love it.

After shoving as many stuffed animals as we could into the back of the stroller, I ended up carrying the rest like a big simp.

It was the perfect way to end one of the best days of my life.

“You better not drop those,” Layla warns.

“I look like an idiot,” I say to her. Several people snap pictures of me along the way, but I don’t care.

---