Just because of her addiction.
“She’s still your mom. She loves you like you’re a part of her goddamn soul. Nothing has changed. It’s just something that she deals with like I deal with alcohol.”
He doesn’t say a word. Goddammit.
“Moffy.”
“You’re my dad?” he asks again.
Don’t fucking cry.
“I’m your dad,” I say forcefully. “Your mom and I have a monogamous relationship. That means she’s not with anyone else but me. She doesn’t have sex with anyone else.”
Moffy is confused. “Then how is she a sex addict?” He grinds his teeth and scratches at his arm. He looks hollowed out.
I think he wanted this to be a lie. So he could tell his friends to fuck off. To get over themselves and stop spreading rumors.
“This isn’t something to be ashamed of. Your mom’s not ashamed. Okay? It’s a part of her. The same way my addiction is a part of me.” He can’t love me and hate Lily. I might as well be sawed in half.
“Then why hasn’t she told me?” He frowns. “You both usually tell me everything.”
“Maybe we should have,” I admit that, “but we didn’t want you thinking about sex in that context, Moffy. It’s complicated.”
He weighs this knowledge.
“You love your mom?”
His eyes fill to the brim while he nods repeatedly. “It’s why this is so hard, you know? I don’t like thinking that she’s struggling with something like this…”
I was wrong about him being ashamed of Lily. That’s not the track he was going down.
Moffy just didn’t want her to be sick.
Goddamn Hufflepuff.
“I can explain her addiction better, if you want me to.” I don’t know what it must be like for him. This is his mom. I didn’t even have a mother.
He breathes easier and nods. “Yeah, can you?” He licks his dry lips, realization crossing his face. “Is this why you got so pissed over the pop-up porn on my computer?”
“Yeah.” I bend my knees, both of us at ease. “Sex addicts can be compulsive about porn. We’re just cautious.”
“That makes sense…” He swings his head to me. “One more question.”
“You can ask as many as you want.”
Moffy almost smiles and he nods in thanks. “So…how bad is sex addiction? Sex is supposed to feel good, so it can’t be that terrible, right?”
My teenage and college years with Lil race through my mind. I can’t lie to my son. I can’t tell him it was easy when it was fucking hard. So I say the truth, “She’s at a healthy place now, Moffy.”
He lets out the deepest breath. “If I think of something else…?”
“You can always ask me or her or us.”
He nods to himself like he’s more content again.
I stand and help him up. “You want some hot tea?” He drinks a cup almost every morning.
“Yeah, that’d be good.” He hesitates before we leave the vending area. He nods to himself again and then says, “Thanks for trusting me.”
I hug him to my side, and he hugs back.
I know, soon, we may need to trust him with a lot more.
July 2027
Disneyland
California
DAISY MEADOWS
I’m in charge of three little rambunctious girls today.
I’m the only one who likes the spinning teacups, and this morning, three-year-old Winona and Kinney declared that they wanted to “spin until they puked” and two-and-half-year-old Audrey nodded like me too.
Rose told me not to put puke on the agenda, and I planned to cross puke out and put fun. Like total mind-blowingly awesome fun.
Well, it’s been horrible stomach-curdling un-fun.
We’ve been at the Mad Hatter’s teacups for over an hour, and we’ve only whirled on the ride once.
I have all three wiggly girls barely seated on their strollers by the teacups attraction. I place my arm to my mouth, almost gagging, and then I chug a second water bottle. My stomach roils and cramps.
Bodyguards surround us so safety isn’t a monstrous issue, even with the growing crowds and people sneaking photographs.
Winona hops off her stroller with a devious laugh, wearing a tiger onesie. Her tail flaps behind her.
I pick up my toddler and set her back, my stomach caving in on itself. Suck it down, Daisy. I breathe through my nose, and Winona tries to dart off again. She thinks it’s a game. It might be if I didn’t feel like death just crawled into my stomach and died.
I’m sweating, dizzy and nauseous.
I’m going to puke.
I swallow the feeling. I don’t think the teacups are to blame. I’ve never felt nauseous on rides or car trips or even boats.
“Girls,” I say, squatting in front of their strollers. Redheaded Audrey sits in the middle, wearing a pink princess gown, hands on her sides like it’s what she’s meant to do. Kinney inspects a booger on her finger, dressed as a Jedi Knight, while Winona hangs upside-down in her stroller.
“What if we got ginormous, humongous”—I gasp like it’s the craziest thing in the world—“ice cream cones.”
“Huh?” Winona gapes.
“Ice cream isn’t teacups,” Kinney Hale says like it’s just known.
Audrey nods and mumbles something that sounds like, exactly.
Exhaling a steady breath, I struggle layering on brightness when I don’t feel well. I used to be great at this, and I don’t know how. I can’t remember the last
time I painted on happiness when I felt sick.
It might be a whole nine years ago.
My phone starts ringing. “Ice cream is better than teacups,” I try to convince them, but I have to put my forearm to my mouth while I stand up straight. I’m lightheaded for a second, and I shut my eyes.
“Mommy?” Winona is still upside-down.
“I’m okay. Ice cream,” is all I can say before I answer the phone. I only realize it’s FaceTime when Rose appears on screen. Shouts from park-goers crackle the speakers.
“Are the girls being little devils? How’s Audrey?” Rose must see herself in the tiny window because she fixes her crooked Mickey Mouse ears.
Jane is wearing identical ones with Rose today.
“They’re good.” I chug more water.
Rose pauses, eyes narrowing towards me. “Are you pale or is that the light?”
“Definitely the light,” I lie and then rotate the camera onto her daughter, the screen still on me. I tell Audrey to say hello to her mom, and Audrey waves like she’s dusting the air.
Rose touches her lips as she smiles.
Not long after, she glances over her shoulder like she feels someone. I catch a brief glimpse of Connor. Grinning.
“You’re infuriating,” Rose snaps and then tries to raise a hand at his face.
He only grins more. Eliot and Tom suddenly jump out at Rose, trying to scare her.
Rose doesn’t startle.
Then they both clasp her hand, tugging her towards a ride and talking over one another. Rose unconsciously points the camera at the cement.
It makes me so nauseous that I say quickly, “I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up and immediately call someone else.
I can’t do this alone, and I don’t want to try to push through this awful feeling. I just want to spend thirty minutes by a toilet and then curl up in bed.
Ryke answers on the third ring. “Hey, sweetheart.” I’m not sure where he is with the older kids and Lily and Lo. They could be on another side of the park for all I know.
“Ryke—”
“What’s fucking wrong?” Concern deepens his voice.
I don’t even know how I said his name, but obviously it alarmed him. “I don’t feel well…” I take a huge, cumbersome breath. I don’t want to let these little girls down, but I can’t be here.