Page 42 of One Pucking Secret
The scent of buttery popcorn and the distant sound of joyful screams fill the air as we make our way to Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. I glance down at Jasper, his small hand gripping mine, while Chloe strides quietly beside us.
“Are you sure you want to go on Big Thunder Mountain?” Chloe asks, her voice tinged with motherly concern. “You were afraid of that ride last time.”
He shakes his head resolutely, black hair tousling with the movement. “I won’t be afraid now that I have you and Wyatt to come with me.”
“Okay, Jasp.” Chloe squeezes his hand gently. “But let me know if you change your mind, okay?”
I bend down to Jasper’s level, meeting his blue-eyed gaze. “You’re being very brave,” I tell him, the timbre of my voice both encouraging and soothing. “And bravery always pays off. You’ll see that fear is often just excitement in disguise.”
Jasper’s nervousness is evident as we get closer to the ride. It’s written in the slight tremor of his lips and the furrow of his brow.
I nudge him gently. “It’s just excitement.”
He nods, repeating like a mantra, “Just excitement, okay.”
Finally, we board the train car, the rumble of the tracks vibrating beneath us as we settle into our seats. The ride begins with a jolt, taking us through the rugged, red rock canyon landscape. As we race past tunnels and canyons, Jasper’s grip on the metal bar in front of him tightens, but my presence seems to anchor him. When we speed up, twisting and turning around the rocky curves, his shriek is one of thrill rather than terror.
By the time we pull back into the station, slightly windblown but grinning from ear to ear, laughter bubbles over from all three of us.It’s a laughter that feels like it’s washing away more than just the adrenaline; it’s a release, a moment of joy shared together.
“Great job, buddy,” Chloe says once we step off. “You were so brave.”
“Thanks, Mommy. That was fun!” Jasper exclaims, cheeks flush with excitement.
“Where to next?” I ask.
“Lunch,” Jasper decides, the word punctuating the moment with simple finality.
The scent of tomatosauce and melted cheese permeates the air as we settle at a table with our slices of pizza. Jasper kicks his feet under the table, a telltale sign he’s still riding the high from Splash Mountain. I watch Chloe across from me, how she effortlessly balances attention on her son with plucking napkins from the dispenser—preparing for the inevitable mess seven-year-olds make.
“Here you go, buddy,” she says, handing Jasper a napkin with a warm smile that lights up her green eyes.
I take a bite of my pizza, the flavors tangy and rich, but it’s the scene unfolding before me that feeds something deeper. Chloe’s everymove is a silent testament to her years of solo parenting—a dance of love and duty that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Chloe,” I say, and she glances up, a piece of pepperoni dangling unceremoniously from her slice. “What rides do you like?”
She pauses, caught off guard by the question. “I like Indiana Jones a lot,” she admits, tucking a stray auburn lock behind her ear. “And Space Mountain, but that one’s too intense for Jasper, so I never get to ride it.”
“Space Mountain, huh?” I lean back in my chair, considering. “If you want, you can hit that ride on your own. Jasper and I can do something else. Only if you want, though.”
“Really?” Her brows arch in surprise, a flicker of excitement lighting her eyes.
“Really.” I nod, serious. “You can get in line while Jasper and I explore. We’ll stay nearby.”
“Thanks, Wyatt. I appreciate it.” Her voice is soft, genuine, and I know this small offer means more than just a ride on a roller coaster.
We finish our lunch, cleaning up the table with practiced ease. The crumbs swept away, the empty plates stacked, it’s not just about tidying up after a meal—it’s about setting things right, finding balance.
We step out of the restaurant and head straight for Space Mountain. When we arrive, Chloe’s eyes lock with Jasper’s, her hand brushing his hair back in a tender gesture that tugs at something deep inside me.
“Have fun, Mommy,” Jasper says, his grip on her hand both fierce and reassuring.
“Thank you, honey. I’ll be sure to.” She turns to me with a hesitant smile. “Just call me if you need anything.”
“We’ve got it covered. Go enjoy yourself.” My words are an easy promise, and she nods before heading off to Space Mountain’s fast pass line, the bounce in her step betraying her excitement.
Jasper’s small hand finds mine, and together, we drift toward a shop brimming with Disney magic. The air smells like plastic and sugar, an inviting contrast to the outdoor blend of sunscreen and excitement.
“It’s nice of you to let your mommy enjoy a ride on her own,” I comment as we weave through the throngs of people, each lost in their own little bubble of joy.
