Chapter 50
MOLLY
By the middle of the morning when we wander into the park, it’s already alive with color and energy.
The air is filled with magic and the smells of sweet treats and frying burgers.
The sun shines high above us, turning Cinderella’s castle into something out of a fairytale, all glittering spires and soft pastels.
I glance down at Autumn, and I can’t help but smile. She’s wearing a pink Minnie Mouse dress with a matching bow in her hair. Her cheeks are flushed pink with excitement as she grips both of our hands and skips along between us.
“Look. It’s Daisy Duck,” she squeals, pointing across the square. I look where she’s pointing, and sure enough Daisy Duck is there, waving and posing for photographs.
“Do you want to go and say hi?” I ask Autumn.
She nods her head so hard that her bow almost falls off.
“Lead the way, Minnie Mouse,” Joshua says, grinning down at Autumn.
She lightly takes her hand from mine and holds her arms up to Joshua to be picked up.
He bends down and lifts her easily into his arms, settling her against his hip like he’s done it a hundred times before.
She is content there, one pudgy little arm around his shoulders, the other one pointing out things she sees.
Daisy Duck is only the first of many characters who patrol the park of course, and we spend the morning meeting some of the other characters.
Autumn beams in every photo - sometimes it’s a shy smile, and sometimes she is bolder, depending on who she’s with.
She hugs Goofy with such ferocity that he stumbles backwards a little bit, and she tells Belle that her dress is the prettiest yellow I ever saw, which earns her a huge smile from and a big thank you from the princess.
Joshua looks at me during that one, his eyes soft and filled with love.
“She gets that from you.”
“What? Her fashion sense?”
“No. The way she lights up a place just by being in it.”
I look away, smiling like an idiot. He still does that to me; turns my insides to jelly with a single sentence.
We ride Dumbo, the carousel, It’s a Small World (which Joshua insists is a form of melodic torture), and then we grab churros while waiting in line for Joshua and Autumn to ride the teacups.
Autumn gets sugar on her nose, and Joshua kisses it off, which makes her giggle and clutch his face between her tiny hands.
“You’re silly, Joshy,” she says, still giggling.
“Yeah, but I’m your silly,” he says, and she squeals with delight.
It’s after lunch, while we’re sitting on a bench sharing some popcorn and waiting for the parade to start that it happens.
Autumn is nestled between us, her head resting against Joshua’s side, her fingers and lips sticky with butter and sugar. Her eyes are drooping a little, her body fighting a nap she absolutely does not want to take.
And then she says it.
“Daddy?”
Joshua goes completely still.
She yawns and blinks up at him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Daddy, can we go on the flying pirate ship again after the princess dance?” she says, all sweet innocence. She has no idea the stir her words cause.
I freeze too.
We haven’t told her that Joshua is her dad yet.
We were planning to tell her gently, when the time was right.
But she’s a sharp, observant kid. She sees other kids calling the men in their lives Daddy, and Joshua’s always there, always holding her hand, just like the daddies of those other kids.
I guess it stands to reason that she would make this connection.
Joshua’s gaze slowly drifts to mine. His expression is open, raw.
As if everything inside him just cracked clean open and all that’s left is his heart.
I think he’s waiting to see if I’m ok with this before he replies, and I am more than ok with it.
I love that it just happened naturally without us having to sit Autumn down and tell her. I give him a slight nod.
His lips twitch and then he smiles. It’s the biggest, happiest smile I have ever seen on his face. Except maybe when I agreed to marry him. I think they are pretty even.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice catching. He cups her face gently with one hand, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. “You want to go on the pirate ship again?”
Autumn nods her head solemnly.
“Yes please. It goes up and down like a bird. Like Dumbo, but in Neverland.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he tells her.
She smiles, satisfied with his answer, and snuggles into his side again like she’s done it a thousand times before.
Her tiny hand reaches for his, and he folds his much larger fingers around hers so tenderly it makes my throat burn.
I swallow quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment by crying because Autumn doesn’t yet understand the concept of happy tears.
And just like that, she falls asleep, her breathing soft and even, her face tucked into the crook of his arm.
We sit there in silence for a long moment, neither of us moving, afraid to shift and ruin this impossibly fragile thread connecting the three of us. Joshua is still staring down at her when he finally speaks again. His voice is quiet, almost awed.
“She called me Daddy,” he says.
I nod, not trusting my voice to come out without the tears I’m still trying to swallow away.
His eyes meet mine.
“We didn’t have to tell her. She just … She knew.”
I smile, and now the tears are in my eyes too, not just my throat.
“I think her heart knew before she did,” I say in a whisper.
He looks back down at Autumn, and I watch his thumb rub gentle circles against the back of her hand. The sun breaks through the clouds above us then, casting golden light across the three of us like some divine stamp of approval.
“She’s so awesome,” he whispers.
“She’s everything,” I agree.
His eyes flick to me.
“Of course she is, because she’s ours,” Joshua says.
That’s when I lose my fight with my tears. Not with sobs, but with the kind of quiet, trembling emotions that have no beginning and no end. Joshua beckons to me, and I lean into his side, resting my head on his shoulder, and he wraps his free arm around me, holding both of us close.
In this moment, we’re not just two people and a child anymore.
We are a family. And she made it official by choosing him.
Just by speaking one word. It’s funny because the biggest things can be said in the smallest of ways by children, but as adults, we stress over it, we monologue, and we agonize.
And that one word is more effective than anything we could ever come up with.
Later that evening, after a long day in the park, we have dinner and then we go back to our hotel room.
I’ve just finished getting Autumn ready for bed and the air smells like bubble bath and strawberry shampoo.
Autumn is in her Moana pajamas again, her damp curls sticking to her cheeks, her new plush Pascal toy clutched tightly under one arm.
Her eyelids are drooping, as she tells us a story about how she and Rapunzel are going to open a cupcake shop together.
Joshua is lying on the floor next to her bed, listening intently, his chin propped in one hand.
“You’ll need a lot of sprinkles,” he says with absolute seriousness.
“Pink ones,” Autumn nods. “And blue ones. And glitter ones.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, grinning.
I lean against the doorframe and just watch them. It hits me again; how natural this all is. How seamless. It’s like he’s always been here. Like I dreamed this into being.
After her story tapers off, I help her into bed, tucking her in tight.
“Can I have a kiss?” she asks, yawning.
I bend down and kiss her forehead.
“Goodnight, baby,” I say.
“Night, Mama,” she says.
She turns to Joshua next, reaching her arms up.
He doesn’t hesitate. He leans in, kissing her soft curls.
“Goodnight, princess,” he says.
“Night, Daddy,” she mumbles sleepily, her thumb slipping into her mouth.
Joshua turns away quickly. I see him blink several times as he heads to the balcony and slides the door open. I give him a moment and then I give Autumn one last look, and I follow him outside.
The night air is cooler now, the sky dotted with stars. The park is quieting down, but the distant twinkle of music still plays, floating on the breeze. Joshua is gripping the railing, his back to me, his shoulders tense.
I walk up behind him and slide my arms around his waist.
“She said it again,” he murmurs.
“I know.”
He turns, and the look in his eyes floors me.
“I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear that until she said it. Molly,” he says, his voice breaking slightly.
“I know,” I say again, this time more softly, placing a hand on his chest where his heart is racing. “I know.”
“I missed so much,” he whispers. “So many firsts. Her first steps. Her first words. Her first birthday. I missed all of it.”
“You’re here now. That’s what matters. You’ll be here for her first day at school, her graduation, her first boyfriend.”
“Not until she’s at least thirty,” he says. “And even then, I don’t know if I’ll be ready for her to have a boyfriend.”
We both laugh and then Joshua swallows hard and turns serious again.
“I want to be the best father I can be. I want to give her the world,” he says. “I want to give both of you and our new baby the world.”
“We don’t want the world, Joshua. We just want you. The four of us, that is our world now.”
He tugs me closer, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
“I love you, Molly.”
“I love you, too.”
He kisses me then, a slow and deep kiss, one full of every promise I didn’t even know I was waiting to hear. And as fireworks burst in the distance, lighting the sky with shimmering reds and golds and silvers, I know one thing for sure: this is the start of forever.