Chapter 15 Miller - What’s My Age Again? #2
Whatever fabric she used to pull this dress together literally molds to her skin.
Every curve and dip is on full display. The sleeves go down her arms, widening on the ends.
The length of it pools at the bottom, hiding her feet, but I can tell she’s standing a little bit taller.
There’s a shiny gold chain fastened around her waist, the links of it jingling lightly.
I connect the dots and the big, frizzier curls finally make sense, although I do not remember ever getting a hard-on from the Mother Gothel in the cartoon.
And I definitely can’t get one now when I’m standing here dressed as a stupid fucking lizard.
“Don’t hate on the wig. It’s kind of itchy, but I had to commit, okay?” Gwen places one hand on her hip, popping it out. Why did that make this whole thing like, ten times sexier?
Also, a wig makes sense now that I spend more than half a second thinking about it.
“I’m not hating on a single thing, I can promise you that.” I take the opportunity to look her up and down again. This time she must see the heat in my gaze because the pout on her face suddenly lifts up, along with her arms as she twirls for me.
I miss the confidence I had last night in the dark, when I wasn’t trying to shoot my shot with a knockout of a woman who’s a million miles out of my league on a normal day, let alone in spandex and tights. But like I said, I’m giving it my all anyway.
“You knew what you were doing when you picked this out,” is what I land on.
“Correction, I hoped it would be received well. Well enough to get you to agree to put that hat and tail back on to take the birthday girl for some good old fashioned tricks and treats with me.” She bats her long lashes at me and clasps her hands together in front of her.
Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m saying no to that.
I begrudgingly grab the remaining costume pieces from the bed, plopping the hat back on my head and fastening the belt. Once I’m done I lift my head to look at her again.
“That’s what I like to see!” she cheers while doing an excited little jump in place.
“I’m gonna get you back for this.” I’m full of shit.
She holds out her hand with a devilish look in her eyes. “You pull off the perfect Pascal, and I swear I’ll wear whatever you want at an occasion of your choosing.”
I grab her hand and pull her towards me, I’m not met with any resistance though. Her chest hits mine. “A deal’s a deal.”
I want to kiss her again. I want to ruin the make-up painted so prettily on her face. I want to push her up against this door and tell her how, if I had my way, the occasion she’s talking about would be an uninterrupted date in my bed, and I’d be telling her to wear absolutely nothing.
But I want to do all of this preferably while not cosplaying a sidekick. So, I settle for giving her a quick peck on the cheek. Her lips form a small O when I pull away. I’m not going to tell her the smile she then gives me is the only payment I’d ever need to agree to anything she asks.
A flash of tulle comes bursting through the doorway. “The clock says 4:58 p.m. We need to go now! Trick or treat starts at five! That’s in two minutes, people!”
Gwen and I really need to talk about what’s next. I know where I’m headed, but I need to make sure we’re on the same page for Penelope. And for me, too.
Penelope’s dress finally comes to a halt, and she stands before us looking a hell of a lot older than six, in my opinion.
Her hair is braided and hanging off one shoulder with little flowers threaded throughout.
The poofy dress is covered in ribbons and sparkles and honestly, looks way better than the ones you could ever buy in a store.
The best part is how unbelievably happy she looks, covered in glitter that I’ll be finding in the crevices and corners of everywhere for the rest of time. It’s a small price to pay to see my girl like this.
I squat down to her level.
“Princess Rapunzel.”
She nods, trying to hold in her giggles while she bops my hat. I continue, “Do you think we can put aside our differences with Mother Gothel and let her accompany us this evening?”
She looks to Gwen, who plays along, looking extremely apologetic. “Please, your highness. It would mean so much to me.”
This sends Penelope over the edge, hysterically laughing until she finally gets out, “You guys are crazy.”
I hoist Penelope up into my arms, carrying her out into the living room. “I’m taking that as a yes. Let’s go!”
Gwen follows us out, grabbing the trick-or-treat bag and a couple bottles of water.
P and I have been under strict instructions to not enter the cafe this week, so I continue to follow the rules set by the woman currently singing “Mother Knows Best” as we walk down the staircase leading directly to the back alley.
I place Penelope back on the ground when we get outside, and the three of us walk around to the front of Main Street.
P takes her candy bag from Gwen and asks if she can go meet her school friends who are huddled together in a variety of classic costumes up ahead.
Before I can finish the word yes, she’s off.
Gwen and I make eye contact, and I just really fucking hope she can see how big this is for us, for me. We have someone (who actually knows what they’re doing) to help with hair and makeup. Someone to grab the bag on the way out when I have my hands full. Someone to watch my kid flourish with me.
I want her to see how much I want this and know that it’s real.