Jess chuckles.
“Your castle needs a king,” Tricia says, still teasing her niece.
“I’m the king,” Jess declares, reaching out to playfully tug at his daughter’s braid.
“A beast is more like it,” his mother states. I laugh and recall reading Katie the story of Beauty and the Beast. On that day, her little head tilted toward the kitchen where her father worked as if she’s heard him referenced as a beast before. Now, I understand the connection.
“Perhaps the castle needs a queen?” Tricia states. She raises an eyebrow as she stares at her brother, who shakes his head again.
“I’m surrounded by estrogen.” He sits up and brushes the sand off his backside, then holds out a hand for his daughter. “Let’s swim, baby girl.” She stands and takes his hand, and I watch them walk to the water. What princess needs a prince when her daddy is such a great king? I’d never known such things since my father left when I was still young.
“He doesn’t know it, but he needs a queen. Just not the pretentious kind he had before.” Mary Carter snorts. “Maybe this time, he needs one with a gentle spirt and a good heart.” I blush at her indirect compliment. I’m no queen, but I admit, there’s a rightness to the thought of being a part of this royal family. If only . . .
We fall into easy chatter as women can until Katie returns from the water with her father, who glistens like a Greek god. His hair is slicked back, and water ripples down his tight abs.
“If I tell you a secret, will you tell me one?” I say to Katie once she returns to the beach. She’s snuggled in a towel to dry off the water, and I tug her to my lap. She doesn’t answer me, but I knew she wouldn’t, and I continue despite her silence.
“Princess Katie has the best father king,” I say into her ear. “He loves her very much but so does this fairy.” Katie shifts in her seat to look at me. “Your daddy is strong on the outside, but people can be strong in here too,” I say, pointing over her heart. “You are one of the strongest people I know, Katie bug. Inside you is love and happiness and hope, and sometimes we need to share those strengths with other people. Do you know what I mean?”
I keep my voice low, but I sense Jess listening to me from his position at my side.
“Katie, let’s get some ice cream,” he interjects, pulling his child away from me and my serious tone. He hops to his feet without looking at me and takes her hand once again, walking away from me.
You’re pushing, I warn myself.
But I have nothing to lose.
I’ll lose them both come tomorrow.
Rule 19
Having a heart is magical.
[Jess]
She’s so fucking pushy and just can’t leave shit alone. More fairy this and princess that, and I saw how Katie stiffened on Emily’s lap. She’s my child. Why does Emily think she’s the one who can get Katie to break? If it hasn’t happened for me, it won’t happen for her.
Despite my frustration, Emily feels more familiar to me after a few short weeks than Debbie ever did, and I’d known Deb most of my life. And Katie’s taken to Emily in ways I could never have expected.
Still, she’s so relentless.
After ice cream and an afternoon of lazing in the sun, we leave the beach to clean up, and I tell Emily I’ll pick her up around seven. The fireworks are a big thing tonight and mark the end of the festival, and in many ways, the end of summer. Although school won’t start for another few weeks, the summer season will slowly roll to a halt as tourists exit, summer homes board up, and permanent town residents return from their summer visits elsewhere.
Katie and I pick up Emily and walk the few blocks to the midway, a set of carnival rides set up in a parking lot behind a portion of Main Street. The U-shaped arrangement of blinking lights and screeching music surrounds a Ferris wheel, the only ride I’ll be taking, and I purchase three tickets. We wait in line for our turn and listen to the sounds of riders enjoying the attraction. When we take our seats in the car, Katie sits between us, and I rest my arm on the back of the seat, enjoying the dimming evening light as we lurch upward in increments to allow other riders to take their place on the wheel.
“Another secret,” Emily says as the car halts and then rocks back and forth. “This fairy is afraid of heights.”
The panic in her voice gives away her fear, and I notice how her fingers wrap tightly over the safety bar. Katie looks up at Emily.
“But sometimes we need to face things we are afraid of, right? We face them and learn we can do it. We can be strong, even if it’s scary.”
I wonder, once again, why she’s trying to impart these words of wisdom to my child, and I teeter between feeling gratitude for her determination to help my child and being annoyed at her interference.
“Fairy strength,” Emily says before she removes one hand from the bar and pats her palm against her chest. However, as the car rolls upward to allow another set of riders to board, she lets out another squeak. Katie smiles at Emily’s mouse-like noise, and I wonder if she’s laughing inside at this woman’s silly antics. It’s only a Ferris wheel. What can happen on here?
As we near the top of the circular shape, Emily turns her head toward the beautiful view of the lake. This ride makes me feel like I’m soaring, and I’d love to float away. The thought reminds me of what Emily said on our date.
She’s floating through life.
Have I been as well? I’m comfortable where I am. Working with Tom. Living with Mom. Maybe I should want more . . .
I think of the radio patent and the fact that Dad’s friend is interested. It’s the first mental challenge I’ve had in years, since leaving General Motors. I glance over at Emily and realize she’s the catalyst. She’s been the first emotional challenge I’ve had in years as well, and the two are not independent from one another.
She’s the challenge that’s awoken my spirit and perhaps opened my heart.
It sounds a bit fairy tale-ish, and I ignore my own thoughts, feeling like I’ll have to hand over my man card if I start thinking like that.
The Ferris wheel lurches into action. The car hurls down toward the earth, the structure spins on its axis, and we roll upward once again. As we crest the top, the sun lowers in the west, and I’m filled with a sense of beauty and finality.
Final.
The word hits me hard.
It’s going to end soon. The ride. The summer. Her visit. Emily is beauty, and she’s leaving tomorrow. It’s not like we couldn’t continue in some manner. Phone calls. Emails. Maybe a visit here and there, but I don’t like the fact it will all lead to nothing. She’s told me about her career ambitions and I’d never stand in her way. I have my own rocky road with Katie, and I can’t ask Emily to stay. It’s a vicious circle. We’ll spin around each other but never connect like the cars on this giant wheel. We won’t be what I need, and I’ve started to think I need her more and more.
Maybe I do need a queen like my sister teased earlier, but I’m pretty certain the castle door is closed to that idea.
The Ferris wheel ride ends, and we take Katie around the grounds to go on a few child rides on her own. Eventually, we make our way to a blanket spread on the grass near the marina. Tom set it out to save us a place, and he and Karyn sit behind us. My brother hands me a beer, but Emily declines the offer. Katie straddles her lap, playing with the zipper on Emily’s sweatshirt.