I take a look at my family, Gray in his own car and Molly and Gemma sharing one, and my heart practically drums out of my chest. They all look so happy and content in this moment. With everything going on lately, it’s been hard to have those truly happy feelings. I’m determined to have more of these moments.
Noticing the ride operator give the go-ahead, I press down on the pedal, and the fun begins. We bump, we block, we chase, but more importantly, we laugh and have a damn good time. Hearing Gemma’s squeals of delight as she points to either Gray or me for Molly to bump against has me laughing more than I have in a while. After pummeling into my and Molly’s cars a few times, Gray starts going after the few other people on the ride with us.
By the time we exit the ride, we’re all out of breath from laughing so much.
“What’s next?” I ask the kids.
“The swings!” Gemma shouts.
Already seeing the squeamish look on Molly’s face, I suggest, “Why don’t you go grab another snack while I take the kids on the swing.”
Her face relaxes in relief. Ever since she got sick when we were teens from riding on the swings too many times, she’s never been able to handle them again.
“Okay.” She tosses her thumb over her shoulder to a sitting area. “Meet you at the picnic tables after you’re done?”
“Sure.” I peck her lips before me and the kids take off for the swings.
A while later, after we’re done with the swings, we make our way to the picnic tables. Molly’s sitting at one, a large plastic cup of lemonade and the remnants of her funnel cake on the table in front of her.
“I’m hungry,” Gemma states, plopping down on the seat beside her mom. “Can we get something to eat?”
“Yes.” Molly ruffles her hair. “But remember we have to wait twenty minutes after you’re done before getting on any more rides.”
“Okay.”
While they wait at the table, I order a hot dog for Gemma and a couple of slices of pizza for me and Gray. Molly, full from her funnel cake, opts to not get anything.
After we eat, we waste time letting the food settle in the kids’ stomachs by playing some carnival games. In the end, we’ve come to the conclusion that Molly sucks at ring toss, but is surprisingly good at tossing darts at balloons. Gray kicked butt at the shooting game, and even won Gemma a stuffed elephant. I was damn proud of myself when I won the high striker game. What I won, though, was a different story. It was a freaky looking doll that closely resembled the doll from Chucky. Molly’s expression was comical when I handed it to her.
“Is this…,” she lifts her head and pins me with a look, “Chucky?”
I grin. “I guess we’ll know if we wake up one night with it standing over us with a knife.”
Her eyes narrow, not finding my joke funny. “You know we’re burning this when we get home, right?”
“Ah, come on now. You don’t like the prize I won? I used all of my strength to get that thing.”
“Fine,” she grumbles, barely stifling a laugh. “But if this thing comes after us, I’m pushing you in front of me.”
I chuckle and steal a kiss. “I love you bunches too.”
We spend the next couple of hours going from one ride to the next. I keep a close eye on Molly throughout the day, checking for any signs of stiffness or ailments. She’s either hiding it really well, or she’s having a really good day. Not once has she stumbled or acted off, which is amazing since the last couple of weeks, her symptoms have made themselves known at least once a day.
With the kids leading us to the next ride they want to go on, I dip my head and ask quietly, “How are you doing?”
She tips her head to the side, resting it on my shoulder. “I’m fine. Just getting a little tired. No spasms, but my legs are aching a little.”
Worry wedges itself into my gut.
“Maybe we should go ahead and head out. The kids have had a good time. I’m sure they’re getting tired too.”
She pops her head up and shakes it. “Not yet. Let them go on a few more rides. I’m enjoying watching the excitement on their faces.”
I’d much rather take her home, but I don’t want to take this time away from her either. If she feels like she can continue for a bit longer, we will.
We let the kids go on several more rides when I notice the pinch of pain forming between Molly’s brows get worse. Unable to see her suffer any longer, I call it a day. The kids grumble, but I see the fatigue in their eyes too. We’ve been here for several hours in the heat, and they’ve been constantly moving. They’re no doubt tired as well.
As we leave the fairgrounds, I wrap my arm around Molly’s waist, letting her put some of her weight on me.
“Today was a good day,” she remarks, her eyes flickering back and forth between the two kids.
I kiss the top of her head. “It was.”
“We need to have more like it.”
“We will.”
We exit through the gates and weave around rows of cars. The closer we get to the car, the more weight of Molly’s I take on. I’m just about to stop and pick her up when she suddenly freezes, and a hiss of pain leaves her lips. She’s hunched over slightly, but her legs are ramrod straight. Gripping her shoulders so she doesn’t fall, I bend down so I can see her face, and my heart cracks at the agonizing pain in her eyes.
“Mom?” Gemma’s fearful voice comes from behind me.
“What’s wrong?” Gray asks next.
With my hands still holding Molly, I look at the kids over my shoulder. “Mom’s okay. She’s just having a bit of leg pain. Gray, keep your sister there with you.”
After he wraps his arm around Gemma’s shoulders and he gives me a nod, I turn back to Molly. She’s still hunched over awkwardly.
“Baby?”
“My back,” she cries softly, her bottom lip wobbling. “I can’t move it. And my legs won’t work. It hurts, Lincoln.”
I feel so goddamn helpless, but do the only thing I can think of that might help. Getting to my knees, I grit out, “Hold onto my shoulders.”
Once she does, I move my hands to her legs and begin massaging. I have no clue if it’ll help, but I have to do something. It kind of freaks me out how hard the muscles in her legs feel. Like fucking stones or something. I add pressure and work my way up one leg and down the other. The longer I massage, the looser the muscles become. I don’t know if it’s me helping or if the spasms have run their course. Either one is fine with me. I only want my girl to be pain-free.
I move to her back next and find the muscles there tight as well. After a few minutes, the tenseness in her body starts to relax. I look up and find her panting, the pain in her eyes slowly being replaced with remorse.
“Is that better?” I ask through a tight throat.
She nods and swallows. “Yes.”
I massage her legs and back for a couple more minutes before I stand. I don’t give her a chance to take a step before I’m lifting her into my arms and turn to face the kids. They both look at Molly with questions and worry in their eyes.
“See? Mom’s okay. She just had leg cramps, but she’s better now.”
I see the doubt in Gray’s eyes, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. Gemma still looks worried, but she accepts my explanation.