Chapter 37 Paradise Jungle
Paradise Jungle
Renée
We called Amber ahead of time to let her know the change in plans, and she agreed to keep it a surprise for the girls. Which is why Jonah and I left the house early this morning so we could be the first ones in the waterpark when they opened.
The place is massive, with two-story waterslides, giant buckets of water that spill from above, a lazy river, and human-sized lily pads.
Connected to the waterpark is a hotel with a couple restaurants, an arcade, and candy shop.
Paradise Jungle is a literal dream for children—and Jonah, who is already cannon-balling into the water before I can even set my towel down on a lounge chair.
“It’s so warm,” he calls over once he surfaces. “Wait, what are you doing? Come in with me!”
I take my coverup off and fold it. “I’m fine, I’ll watch from here.”
Ignoring the ladder three feet away, he hoists himself out of the water and marches toward me. My eyes go wide and I scramble when I realize he’s on a mission. “Oh, no you don’t,” he says before snatching me around the waist.
“Jonah,” I squeal in laughter. “Put me down!”
“If you say so,” he chuckles, and he flings both of us into the pool. Water engulfs me and bubbles float around my body until I break the surface. I’m about ready to smack him, but his gleeful face is the first thing I see, and I instantly forgive him.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” he chastises, but it’s playful and adorable. He holds my hand as we swim for shallower waters. “I’m the fun police.”
I raise one eyebrow. “The fun police stop fun from happening.”
“Mmmm, no, they make sure everyone is having fun. I would know Renée,” he says, sarcasm dripping like the droplets from our skin. “I went to Fun Police Officer School and I took an oath to serve and protect good vibes.”
I run a finger over his bare deltoid. “In certain circumstances, I do love a man in uniform.”
When he can reach the bottom, he hauls me into a bridal carry and I relish in the effortlessness of it all—floating in this handsome, laughing man’s arms—letting him take care of me, which includes forcing me to have fun.
He sets me down as a high-pitch shriek rips across the pool.
“They’re here!”
Before I can turn, a ten-year-old torpedo slams into Jonah's side, followed by a smaller, squealier one who belly-flops next to both of us. Delta and Lo surface like triumphant little otters, hair plastered to their cheeks.
“You didn’t tell us you were coming,” Delta yells, her wet ponytail smacking her in the face.
“That’s because it was a surprise,” he says, wiping his eyes. “And your aim is criminal.”
Amber marches through hordes of children without a care for anyone else’s path—like a woman who hasn’t slept much in two days and is powered entirely by caffeine and fruit snacks.
She pops a squat at the pool’s edge and sighs dramatically.
“Good surprise. Great surprise. The only surprise I got was waking up this morning to a seven-year-old hovering over my face, asking if sharks could live in fresh water.”
“Let’s play sharks,” Delta cheers.
“Not until you show me every waterslide in Jungle Paradise,” Jonah says, lifting each one of them out of the water. “Show me which ones are your favorites!” Jonah takes both of their hands and they weave through the crowd.
I drift closer to my sister and she leans in conspiratorially. “I’m guessing things went well for you two this weekend?”
I can’t stop watching him walk away with my girls. “Very.”
“How... spicy did you get?” she asks in code.
“I showed him The Troll,” I smirk. “Amongst other things.”
My sister erupts in giggles. “And he’s not running for the hills? Okay, girl. Got yourself a keeper, I see.”
“He is.”
Amber gets up. “Come on. Let’s go chase some waterfalls.”
For the next few hours, Paradise Jungle lives up to its name.
We shoot through waterslides, float down the lazy river until our fingers prune, and let the giant tipping bucket drench us at least four times.
Amber somehow befriends a group of volleyball moms. Delta negotiates for three trips to the snack bar.
Lo becomes queen of “the best lily pad” and splashes anyone who dares to siege. It’s loud and chaotic and wonderful.
Somewhere between the last waterslide and a much-needed break, I realize I haven’t seen Jonah or the girls for a little while. There are a million life guards here, so I’m not too worried.
“Do you know where they went?” I ask Amber, wringing out my hair.
She points vaguely toward the back of the waterpark. “Arcade, I think. Delta was ranting about needing to win enough tickets to buy a giant elephant plushie. Jonah said he had a strategy, which”—she snorts—“I cannot wait to hear.”
I laugh and don my coverup. “I’ll go find them.”
The path from the indoor park to the arcade winds through a humid tunnel of fake vines and plastic parrots that squawk every ten seconds.
The moment I step inside the arcade, the air changes—cooler, loud with digital bleeps and music, neon lights flickering across the carpet.
Kids swarming like nectar-drunk hummingbirds.
And then I spot them.
My oldest is aggressively whacking a crocodile in Whack-A-Mole.
My youngest perches on Jonah’s hip while he studies a towering stack of flashing machines like he’s about to perform brain surgery.
Their backs are turned toward me, and he’s explaining something with serious hand gestures.
Lo stares at him like he’s unveiling the secrets of the universe.
Smiling, I start toward them, but stop.
Because Lo tilts her head, tapping his cheek. “Hey, Jonah?”
“Yeah, Shortcake?”
She tries to whisper, but her version of whispering is... not. “Do you love Mommy?”
My breath lodges in my chest and my vision tunnels on only them.
Delta, still holding her foam mallet, nods with sage authority. “Yeah, do you? Because you should tell her so you can be our dad.”
And before I can even think to move, to interrupt, to pretend I wasn’t listening, Jonah answers. “Of course I do,” he says, soft and sure. “But the whole dad thing...” he trails off. “That’s something your mom will have to decide.”
Something inside me goes liquid, warm, and impossible to contain. And I stand there in the glow of blinking arcade lights, falling even harder than I thought possible.