Page 73 of The Fake Husband Play
By tonight, everyone in New Orleans will have seen that video. By tomorrow, who knows? Half the world might know I’ve acquired a surprise wife.
But I can’t worry about that right now.
Now, I just need to get to Elly and make sure she’s in the loop. We may have only been friends for a week, but I already know Elly hates being in the dark. She likes to be fully apprised of a situation.
So, that’s what I’ll do.
I’ll go to her, I’ll apprise, then apologize, and then promise to fix this somehow.
But as I jog to the car, deep down, I know wanting to “apprise” Elly is only part of this. It’s not just that she needs to know, it’s that I need to see her. I need to be with her. I need to hold her, look deep into those big eyes, and see that she still trusts me.
Trusts us…
And doesn’t want to toss me into the cage with the alligators for making a “social media worthy” scene last night.
Heart hammering, I pull out of the parking lot and head for the highway, bracing for whatever comes next.
Chapter
Nineteen
ELLY
Confession:I’m not a fan of kid birthday parties.
Maybe I’m a monster, but there’s usually way too much screaming and not nearly enough shade, water, or places to escape from the screaming.
But the Gator Farm birthday celebration is proving a delightful exception to the rule. The weather is gorgeous, the party is small and not the slightest bit screamy, and Mimi is having a blast.
I swear, watching your kiddo find her people is like watching the houseplant you’ve nearly killed finally get the right amount of sun and water. Not that I’ve ever almost killed Mimi.Obviously.
But Ihavebeen worried…
Worried that the combination of her intelligence, niche interests, and her disability would keep her on the outside looking in. Worried that the kids who left her out of the fun in pre-school would move on to actively bullying her in elementary.
But today…
Well, today, the sun is shiningand so is she.
The girls had a fantastic time during the farm tour, got to hold baby gators, and are now deep in dessert and discussion at a kid-sized table in the party pavilion. Ruby and Sage are sweet, creative kids who don’t think it’s odd that Mimi’s been making up stories about the alligators all morning and is currently leading the debate on alligator intelligence.
“They’re really good hunters and grow up all by themselves, without a mommy or daddy to teach them,” Mimi insists, gesticulating with her icing-coated fork. “That’s pretty smart.”
“My dad says animals have instincts, not smarts,” Sage counters, adjusting her tiny round glasses.
“But dogs are animals, and some dogs are dumb and some are smart,” Ruby adds in her adorable lisp. “So maybe that means animals are just like people. Some are smart and some are not very smart.” She wrinkles her nose before adding, “But probably more arenotvery smart because that’s how things are.”
I bite back a laugh from my spot at the parents’ table, where I’m nursing my third juice box. Apple, because we ran out of fruit punch, and sadly, none of us thought to sneak iced coffees into the cooler.
“Wise beyond her years, that little bug of mine,” Chelsea murmurs, casting a wry smile Ruby’s way. “Poor thing. She’s going to spend her life growing progressively disappointed in the human race. It’s all downhill from kindergarten.”
“Oh, stop,” Miranda says with a laugh. “She’ll just be…realisticabout the human race. Realistic is a good thing.”
“I agree.” I nod. “Realism, tempered with optimism. That’s what I’m going for, anyway. I figure it’s better tobe honest with Mimi about how hard being a human is sometimes than for the hard stuff to come as a complete surprise.”
“Wise.” Chelsea nods. “I wish my parents had that attitude. I still haven’t forgiven my daddy for saying I could grow up to be anything I wanted, only to find out after five years of Peewee football that I actuallycouldn’tbecome a kicker in the NFL.”
“And your legs are incredible,” Miranda agrees. “You had potential, kid. Sorry you didn’t get to kick balls for a living.”
