Page 26 of Merrily Yours
She puts her head in her hand and sighs. “It’s a nice ass, though.”
I can’t argue with her, so instead I wink and skate over to Elaine and Hugo. They are bracketing Elodie, guiding her on her baby skates as she giggles up a storm. She’s such a happy baby, and I love that she gets to be a big sister.
I also love that I get to be a dad. I was so fucking terrified at first—I didn’t exactly have a great example to model my parenting after. Between the Bardots and friends that we’ve made in New York, Elodie is truly being raised by a village of people who love us.
Elodie looks up at me as I get closer. Her chubby cheeks are rosy, and her gummy smile melts my heart. “Dada! Damn, skate-ing!”
Elaine busts out laughing at my toddler even though she’s been saying those same two words the entire time we’ve been at the ice rink. “Yes, darling. Skating! You’re doing a great job.” I reach out and take her little mitten hands in mine. “Want to skate with Daddy?” I ask.
She nods enthusiastically in response to my question, and we take a slow lap around the ice. My quads are burning from skating backwards while bending down to her level, but it’s worth it to watch how much she loves being here.
“Wave to Mommy!” We skate past Bex who can’t decide if she wants to be grumpy or sentimental. Elodie lets go of my hand to wave but quickly loses balance. I scoop her up right before she falls on the ice and skate to the edge of the rink. “Alright, that’s enough of that. Should we get more food and then we can go home for a nap?”
“No nap!” Elodie says at the same time Bex says, “God, a nap sounds so nice.”
I look at Elodie and shrug. “Mom’s the boss.”
She pats me on the head. “Okay, Dada.”
Bex unties Elodie’s skates as I take mine off, and we walk over to the concession stand.
“Welcome back,” the woman manning the stand greets us.
“I’d like more nachos and a fresh hot chocolate… Let's do a pretzel, too.” Bex turns to me. “Do you want anything?”
“Oh, none of that is for me?” I ask, smiling at my pregnant wife.
“I’m growing a baby, killer. That’s all for me.” She contemplates for a moment. “I might share some of my pretzel with El.”
“I have another bottle in the bag for El,” I reply.
“Well then, it’s all for me.” She grins. “Are you ordering?”
I get my own nachos and drink, even though I know Bex won’t finish hers.
We find a picnic table with a view of the skating rink so we can watch the rest of the Bardot siblings make a fool of themselves as they race around the rink.
Bex pops a nacho in her mouth and chews—her thinking face tells me she’s trying to figure out how to say what’s on her mind.
“Spit it out, Baby Bardot.”
She looks at me quizzically. “My nachos?” she asks, her mouth still full.
“No, whatever it is you’re thinking about.”
“How do you know I’m thinking about something?”
I circle my finger around her face. “Because I know you. And that face means you’re thinking about something important.”
Said face scrunches up and then she sticks her tongue out at me. “I have some ideas for that tongue,” I whisper.
“Anders!” she laughs, and then finally says, “Okay, I was thinking about something… What if you’re disappointed?”
I’m confused. “Disappointed?”
“By the gender of the baby.”
I immediately get up and circle the table, pulling her in and tucking her head under my chin. “Oh, baby. How long have you been worried about this?”
