Page 41 of One Pucking Secret
But there’s a thorn in the rose bush. Chloe. Her image, all fiery hair and sharp green eyes, dances behind my lids every time I close my eyes. Attraction pulls at me, but it’s tangled up with the barbed wire of betrayal. She should’ve told me about Jasper from the get-go. Instead, she let me discover fatherhood like a blindside check on the ice.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the frustration. It’s a day for making memories, not rehashing past betrayals.
I grab my wallet, phone, and keys, giving my apartment a once-over. It’s neat, orderly—a much needed reprieve from the chaos that’s sure to ensue today. I’m ready for it, though. Ready to dive into the pandemonium of theme parks and fatherhood.
The lock clicks behind me, and I take the stairs two at a time, energy buzzing under my skin. I’ll meet Chloe and Jasper soon, and we’ll make today one for the highlight reel. With one last glance at the rising sun, I start the engine, and my heart thrums in tune with the purr of the car.
“Let’s do this,” I mutter to myself, a promise hanging in the air as I pull onto the road, heading toward new memories—and maybe, just maybe, a new beginning.
The morning sun glints off the hood of my SUV as I pull up to Chloe’s place, a familiar knot tightening in my gut. But when I see them—Chloe with her arm around Jasper, both wearing Mickey Mouse T-shirts and wide grins—that tension loosens just a bit.
“Hey, buddy!” I call out, my voice bouncing with forced cheerfulness. Jasper bounds over, his excitement palpable in the bounce of his curls. He clambers into the booster seat, a recent purchase that I’m still getting used to.
“Got everything, champ?” I ask, clicking the seatbelt into place once he’s situated in his booster.
“Yep! Even my Buzz Lightyear toy,” Jasper chirps, holding up the action figure like a prized trophy.
“Good man.” I chuckle, closing the door with a satisfying thud before sliding into the driver’s seat.
The engine purrs to life, and we’re off, weaving through the streets as Disneyland themed anthems fill the car. The playlist is Jasper’s, but I know every word. Together, we belt out a rendition of “Let It Go,” and I steal a glance in the rearview mirror. Chloe’s hesitant at first, her lips pressed in a thin line, but Jasper’s delight is infectious.
“Come on, Mom!” He claps his hands together, egging her on until she caves, her voice joining ours in a melody that stitches together the three of us in a patchwork of harmony.
Laughter bubbles up between verses, floating on the air like soap suds catching the light. For a moment, the car becomes a capsule of joy, untouched by the weight of our past. In this fleeting symphony, I envision a parallel universe—one where deceit doesn’t lurk in the shadows of our history, where Jasper’s laughter has been the soundtrack of my life for all his seven years.
I could have been a great dad from the start. I know it now with a conviction that stings. Not like my old man, who treated fatherhood like agame he could walk away from—a game where everyone else lost.
“Disney songs are the best, right?” Jasper’s innocent words yank me back to the present, to the reality of this traffic-laden road leading us to a day of make believe and maybe—just maybe—forgiving Chloe.
“Yeah, they sure are, kid,” I say, the music swelling as we near our destination, the castle’s spires beckoning us closer to a world where dreams come true, and second chances might just be waiting around the corner.
The scent of cinnamon sugar wafts through the air when we step foot into the park, a siren call guiding us to a stand adorned with spirals of churros. I can’t help but grin as Jasper’s eyes light up like fireworks over Sleeping Beauty’s castle. “I love these things,” I declare, biting into the warm, sweet dough.
“Me too!” Jasper’s voice is muffled by his own mouthful. Crumbs dust his shirt, and he laughs, brushing them off with quick swipes of his hand.
“Where to first, buddy?” I ask, licking sugar from my fingers.
“Pirates of the Caribbean!” he shouts without hesitation, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Chloe nods, her smile soft and familiar. “We always start with Pirates,” she says. “It’s our rule.”
“Tradition, I like it,” I reply, chuckling at their shared ritual. It’s a new piece of their world they’re letting me in on, and it feels like being handed a treasure map where X marks the spot of something precious.
Jasper breaks into song, his small voice belting out, “Yo-ho-ho, a pirate’s life for me!”
I join in, my deeper tone harmonizing with his, and even Chloe hums along as we navigate through the crowd, drawn toward the promise of adventure.
The line snakes around, but the buzz of excitement is palpable, infectious. We board the boat, the water’s musty smell mingling with the tang of sea salt as artificial fog curls around us. The boat lurches forward, and I feel Jasper’s grip tighten on my hand.
“Ready to set sail, matey?” I whisper.
He nods, his wide-eyed gaze fixed on the animatronic buccaneers coming to life around us.
Cannon fire booms, echoing through the cavernous space, and we duck instinctively, sharing a laugh at our own reflexes. As the boat dips and weaves through scenes of piraterevelry and hidden treasures, I watch Jasper’s face—the wonder, the unbridled joy—and I think that maybe this is what redemption feels like.
“Best time ever!” Jasper exclaims as we disembark, his voice carrying over the din of the exiting crowd.
“Absolutely,” I agree, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the sun beating down on us. It’s the glow of a moment shared, a memory made, and a connection that could weather any storm—perhaps even the one we’ve been navigating all along.
