Chapter Thirteen
Fletcher
Once all the hugs are over with, and two sets of grandparents have settled down to sit on the sofa, the children do calm down somewhat.
Unfortunately, the settling down only lasts for a few minutes.
As long as the grandparents keep talking, everything seems normal and reasonably calm.
They want to hear all about what the children did at school today.
No one pays attention to me or Jennifer for a blessed but short hiatus.
Then the conversation dwindles. I attempt to fill in the silence, but I'm ruddy awful at casual conversation. So, I fumble around to find something---anything---to say. "Would you senior citizens like to go for a walk with us? It's a lovely afternoon. And since this is the weekend---"
Henry jumps up from his chair, waving his hands as if he's directing air traffic. "No walks! Not boring walks! We should play cricket!"
I freeze. Cricket? Where did that idea come from?
"Uh, cricket?" Jennifer says. She looks as confused as I am. "You want to play with insects? I thought worms were your thing."
I rub my forehead. "Since when are you interested in cricket, Henry?"
"Since forever!" His conviction is endearing. "Grandpa played it in England, right? He told us all about it. They can teach us!"
"You understand that cricket is a sport, Henry, don't you?"
Mum's eyes widen, and she shoots me a horrified look. "Yes, it's an awfully violent sport for children. Don't you think, Fletcher?"
My father grins. "Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, Florry. I've still got my old bat in the car. Never go anywhere without it."
I stare at my father, shaking my head. "You actually keep a cricket bat in your car? I had no idea."
"Mostly for emergency situations," he says with complete seriousness. "But you never know when you might need one for a spontaneous match."
Jennifer covers her mouth, but I can see her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. At least someone finds my family's eccentricities amusing.
"I don't know the first thing about cricket," Patty admits cheerfully. "But I'm willing to learn."
"But I don't remember the rules," I declare, though I bloody well do remember. I can't have the children messing about with cricket bats, not until they're adults. Thirty would be my preference. But everyone, including the grandparents, is getting more and more excited about the idea.
Bollocks. I must stop them. And so, I blurt out an alternative without considering the ramifications. "Perhaps we should go to the new water park. It's right here in Millbrook Valley."
The children instantly start shrieking and jumping around like lunatics.
"Are you serious, Dad?" Henry asks while pumping his fists in the air.
I've made a terrible mistake. The look of pure joy on Henry's face tells me there's no backing out now.
The water park also has various rides and fun foods.
Its sole purpose seems to be to separate parents from their money while subjecting them to migraine-inducing levels of noise and general bedlam.
"Yes, well, I suppose we could. Provided we can find our swimsuits---"
"YES!" Charlotte shrieks, jumping up and down.
Amelia grins, and it's a genuine, unguarded smile that transforms her entire face. "Can we really go, Dad?"
"Yes, why not," I hear myself saying, though I swear I can already feel dollar bills vanishing from my wallet. "It'll be fun for everyone."
Jennifer throws me a look that clearly says, are you completely nuts? But she's still smiling. "I should probably mention I don't actually own a swimsuit."
"We can stop at a store on the way," Patty suggests helpfully. "I need one too. Haven't been swimming in ages."
"Right then," Dad says, rubbing his hands together. "Adventure it is! Though I still think cricket would've been more civilized."
"Cricket is boh-ring," Henry announces with the confidence of someone who's never actually played the game. "Water slides are wayyy better."
I catch Jennifer's eye and mouth at her, I'm sorry. She shakes her head, but she's smiling as she whispers to me, "The things you'll do to avoid cricket."
She walks past me to help Charlotte find her swimsuit.
"You're coming too, aren't you, Jennifer?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she confirms. "Though I hope you realize you've unleashed a monster. They'll want to go to the water park every weekend now."
"One crisis at a time." I watch as my mother begins listing all the potential dangers of water parks while simultaneously helping Henry locate his swim trunks.
An hour later, after a chaotic stop at a department store, we finally arrive at our destination.
The children are practically vibrating with excitement.
The parking lot is absolutely packed, which should have been my first warning.
The second warning comes when we hear the screams---not screams of terror, but the gleeful shrieks of hundreds of children having the time of their lives.
"Crikey," I mutter under my breath.
Mum gawps at the massive water park complex with the same expression I imagine I'd wear if someone told me I had to wrestle a crocodile.
Jennifer emerges from the car wearing a stunning new sundress, a plastic shopping bag clutched in her hand. I try not to think about what's in that bag. But I fail spectacularly.
"All right, you monsters," I announce with false cheer. "Everyone ready for some fun?"
The children don't reply. They're already racing toward the entrance like they've been shot from cannons. I hurry after them while Mum trails behind, muttering about proper queuing etiquette and health regulations.
"Fletcher, wait up!" Jennifer calls, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of splashing water and delighted screams.
I turn back to see her struggling with her bag and purse while trying to keep up. Without thinking, I clasp her hand to help her navigate through the crowd. Her fingers are warm and soft against mine, and I hold on longer than strictly necessary.
"Thanks," she breathes, slightly out of breath. A few hairs have escaped from her elegant style, and I have the ridiculous urge to tuck it behind her ear.
"Dad, hurry up!" Henry shouts from somewhere near the entrance turnstiles. "The lines are getting longer!"
I reluctantly release Jennifer's hand, and we push through the throng of families. The admission fee makes my stomach drop to the floor, but the kids' excitement is infectious enough that I hand over my credit card without too much grumbling.
"This place is mental," I whisper to Jennifer as we're swept along by the crowd toward the changing rooms.
"You're the one who suggested it," she reminds me, but she's grinning. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat and excitement.
"Temporary insanity brought on by cricket-related panic."
The changing rooms are chaos incarnate. I help Henry into his swim trunks while trying to keep track of where everyone else has gone.
Dad emerges looking surprisingly fit for his age in navy swimming shorts, while Mum appears in what can only be described as a swimming costume from nineteen-fifty-two, complete with a ruffled skirt.
"Very fetching, Mum," I tell her.
She sniffs. "It's practical, dear."
I'm about to respond when Jennifer emerges from the women's changing room, and my brain short-circuits completely. She's wearing a simple black one-piece, but there's nothing simple about how it hugs every curve of her body.
"Is this appropriate?" she asks, tugging self-consciously at the neckline. "It was the only one they had in my size that wasn't covered in flamingos."
"It's perfect," I say, my voice embarrassingly hoarse. "Very...suitable."
Dad elbows me in the ribs. "Close your mouth, son. You're catching flies."
I snap my jaw shut. Jennifer's cheeks flush pink, and she busies herself with arranging her clothes in a locker.
"Right. Where are the children?" I ask, desperate to change the subject.
Henry has already claimed the tallest water slide and is dragging Charlotte toward it while Amelia pretends she's not interested in the Wild-Wild River ride. I spot them weaving through the crowds of sun-soaked families.
"There," I point toward the towering monstrosity known as The Water Coaster, which Henry seems determined to conquer. "Though I'm not entirely sure I want to follow."
Jennifer laughs, a sound that somehow cuts through the chaos around us. "Come on, it'll be fun. When's the last time you did something completely ridiculous?"
"This morning---when I suggested coming here."
She bumps her shoulder into mine. "Don't be a spoilsport. The kids are having a great time. Isn't that the whole reason we came here? To act as silly as the children?"
"Maybe," I say slowly. "But with six adults and four children to wrangle, this might turn into an apocalyptic disaster. I can picture you and me and the grandparents getting arrested for child endangerment because we let them try to most frightening ride in the park."
Jennifer smiles gently and sighs. "A place like this has rules and safeguards. They'd never stay in business otherwise."
"So, you're telling me to stop being such a stick in the mud. Correct?"
"Yep." She slips her arm around mind. "Give it a try, at least. What do you say, Fletcher?"
The last thing I want to do is become a crotchety old man before I'm even forty. But...
Jennifer leans dangerously close to me, whispering in a sultry tone, "You're not fooling me, Mr. Murgatroyd. I've experienced your wild side firsthand. Unleash it again now, but in a family-friendly way."
She's spot on, of course. I've tamped down my wilder instincts simply because I am a father. But here in this ridiculous water park, I suddenly realize I want to get crazy with my kids.