Lucky Girl

Page 22

“Here.” The cabbie handed back a Kleenex box, taking one for himself and dabbing at his eyes.
“Thanks,” I sniffed, wiping my wet face as we approached the gates.
“I’ve made this drive a hundred times, Miss,” the cabbie said as he pulled over to let us off. “From first timers to cancer kids, I’ve dropped them right here—and this is the only time someone’s actually made me cry. Damnit.”
He reached back for the Kleenex and I handed him the box. I saw his name on the visor and a little jolt when through me. His name was Benjamin Grouse. Ben.
“Thank you.” I didn’t know if I was thanking the cabbie or Dale but they both said, “You’re welcome.”
“You have the time of your life!” the cabbie called, rolling down the passenger side window so we could hear him as we climbed out of the back seat. I asked Dale if we should pay, but he said Chelsea had taken care of it.
“We should give him something…” I opened my purse and leaned down to hand him two dollars.
“Thanks, Ben.”
“Thank yourself, lil miss.” He smiled, dropping me a wink. I wasn’t sure what that meant but the feeling came through all the same. “You stay all the way to the end, for the fireworks. It’s a helluva show.”
“We will.” I gave him a little wave and moved back as he pulled away from the curb.
Dale took my hand, swinging it as we walked into the park.
“Don’t we have to pay?” I asked as he strolled past the line of people waiting to get in.
“Oh yeah.” Dale reached under his t-shirt and pulled out a laminated card on a lanyard. Then he reached into his back pocket, producing another one to hang around my neck. “Your key to the kingdom, princess.”
“I already found my prince, remember?” I kissed him, intending for it just to be a quick, sweet kiss, but his hands moved to my lower back and I wrapped my arms around his neck and suddenly we were really kissing, completely lost, the world around us melting away.
“Ewwwwwwwwww they’re KISSing!” a little voice piped up beside us and I looked down to see a kid about five, curly blond hair and big, blue-eyes, pointing at us.
“Cody, that’s not nice. Come on over here.” His mother, carrying a toddler on her hip and pushing a stroller with a newborn in it, tried to pull him away, but her hands were rather full.
“You’ll chance your mind some day, kid,” Dale said, giving him a wink. I smiled at the mom, who smiled back. I wondered where her husband was—who would go to Disney alone with three kids under five?
“I will not!” he scoffed.
“Don’t you think Cinderella is pretty?” I teased.
He hesitated, frowning. “A little.”
“What about Sleeping Beauty?” Dale inquired
Cody’s face lit up. “I like her!”
“We found his type,” Dale said to me in a low voice. I laughed.
“If Sleeping Beauty wouldn’t wake up unless you kissed her… would you do it?” Dale asked.
Cody made a face. We’d clearly stumped him. He didn’t like kissing, but clearly he did like being the hero.
“Yes,” he said finally, with a very dramatic sigh. “But it was be a very fast kiss! Not like you guys. Ewwwwwww!”
We were back to “ewwwwww.”
“Good man.” Dale held out his hand for high-five and Cody gave him one. “See you around.”
“We’re going to the Haunted Mansion!” Cody exclaimed, his blue eyes even bluer when they opened wide like that.
“Are you gonna be scared?” Dale asked.
Cody hesitated, just a beat. “A little.”
“You gonna do it anyway?”
“Yes.”
“Good man!” Another high five. Dale put his hand next to his mouth, leaning in toward Cody, pretending to tell him a secret. “I’m going to take her through the Haunted Mansion. She’s going to be so scared, she’ll jump right in my lap.”
“Are you going to kiss her?” Cody whispered, looking over at me, speculative.
“Yep.”
“Good man!” Cody exclaimed, holding up his little hand for a high-five. I couldn’t help laughing as Dale gave him one.
“You’re not molesting me in the Haunted Mansion,” I informed him as we waved goodbye to Cody and his mom—who had been so busy with the fussy baby in the stroller the whole time, I don’t think she’d heard much of our conversation. I wondered what Cody was going to ask that night, as his mom tucked him into bed, about girls and kissing.
“The hell I’m not,” Dale countered, slapping my behind as we walked through the front gates with our passes. I felt the stares—and glares—of everyone in line. I was beginning to learn that having a rock star boyfriend did have its advantages.
He was true to his word. I was groped in the Haunted Mansion, on the Small World ride, in front of the Wizard of Oz animatronics, on the monorail and in front of the aquarium. We took our own sky cab and rode it over everything and made out for at least half the ride. There were fountains that shot streams of water over the sidewalks, from one fountain to the other. We got soaked standing in front of them, laughing like idiots the whole time.
I wanted to see and do everything. We ate junk all day—cotton candy and hot dogs—as we sprinted from one place to the next, our passes giving us instant access to rides and attractions. It was amazing, we just went to the front of the line and they waved us right through. We did Epcot first, where we attended a class on how to draw Disney characters. By the time the teacher was done talking, I had a whole cast drawn on my board and Dale had managed to make Mickey’s body, a little misshapen, and one sad ear.
“I shouldn’t have suggested this,” Dale sighed, looking at my drawing. “You’ve unmanned me.”
“I just outdrew you,” I teased.
Everyone came over to exclaim over my drawing and someone in a suit came over and asked if I wanted a job drawing for Disney. Dale watched the whole exchange with his jaw dropped.
“Maybe some day,” I told the suit—his name was David something—taking Dale’s hand. “Right now we have to go on an undersea adventure!”
David gave me his card anyway. David Grommet, head of Animation Academy.
“Good to know I’ll have something to fall back on if this whole rock star thing falls through,” I teased as we made our way through the crowd.
It was nearing sunset when my enthusiasm started to wane a little. We’d been up since five and had eaten enough sugar to kill Dumbo. Or maybe even Dumbo’s mother. I leaned my head on Dale’s shoulder as we sat, resting our feet, on the edge of one of the fountains.
“You ready for fireworks?” Dale kissed the top of my head, warming me all the way to my toes.
“You’re my fireworks.” I nuzzled my face into his neck, feathering kisses there.
“Mmm keep that up and you’re going to get more than fireworks.”
“Oh?” I traced my tongue along the salty trail of his collarbone.
Dale stood, suddenly all business, taking my hand and leading me.
I tromped along beside him, exhausted, whining, “Where are we going? I was comfortable!”
But Dale was clearly on a mission so I just followed, trudging through crowds—they were thinning out a little—into a restaurant. More stairs! Ugh. We climbed those too.
“Can I sit now?” I asked as we went around a corner and the whole world opened up to a view that made me gasp out loud. You could see the Magic Kingdom Castle, lights below making it glow purple, from the restaurant’s terrace. It was truly like a fairy tale.
“How about you sit here?” Dale grabbed a chair and pulled onto his lap. I laughed, looking at the desserts laid out on the counter in front of us. There were berry tarts and chocolate covered strawberries and delicate, lacey cookies. The perfect end to our junk food eating day. I sat, contented, in Dale’s lap and fed him strawberries, licking chocolate off his lips, until the fireworks show.
Which was beyond spectacular. Old Ben had been spot on, suggesting we stay. It was a glorious, magical display and I leaned back against Dale, who stretched out his legs and held me around the waist, my head resting against his shoulder. We were in our own little world. I hardly noticed all the other people around us watching the fireworks—couples as well as families with little kids whose eyes were starry after the fireworks display.
I groaned as I rolled off Dale and stood up.
“My feet hurt.”
He laughed, putting his arms around me. “I guess going dancing on Pleasure Island is out then?”
“Pleasure Island?” I perked up. “That sounds fun and exotic.”
“It’s just a bunch of night clubs. You want to go?”
I considered it, putting my arms around his neck.
“I think I’d rather you just take me to bed.”
He lowered his lips to mine. The way he slowly, softly ran his tongue across the seam of my lips, asking for entrance, made my whole body surrender to him and I melted into him.
“Thank you,” I breathed when we parted. I felt tears threatening again but I held them back. I didn’t want to turn into a blubbering idiot in the middle of a restaurant. There were still enough people around to notice.
“Thank you,” he whispered, touching his forehead to mine. “You are so much better than fireworks. Just watching you watch them, seeing that light in your eyes, makes me love you so much it hurts.”
“Right here.” He took my hand, pressing it against his chest.
He was a rock star with the soul of a poet. I kissed him again, long and hard and sweet.
“Ewwwwwwwwwww!”
I startled, looking around, and saw Cody and his mom—and there was his dad, holding the toddler. Mom had the baby.
“Hey little dude!” Dale called, waving across the terrace at him. “Did you like the fireworks!”
“Yeahhhhh!” His eyes were still all starry. “They were way cool!”
“Awesome!” Dale gave him the thumbs up, taking my hand in his other hand. He started leading me toward the exit.
“Did you kiss her in the Haunted Mansion?” Cody called.
Dale stopped and looked back. I was trying to keep a straight face. Then Dale winked and gave him a big thumbs up.
“Good man!” Cody called back, giving him two enthusiastic little thumbs up right back.
I laughed as we headed down the stairs.
“Your feet still hurt?” he asked.
“Don’t yours?”
“A little.” With the power of the pass, Dale got us one of those little golf carts I saw Disney employees running around in. We drove it to the front of the park and left it with one of the attendants.
“Your first show is tomorrow.” It just hit me as we were sitting there on the bench, waiting. Dale had used the phone in the attendant’s booth to call Chelsea to handle getting us back to the hotel.
“I know.” He leaned back on the bench, thumbs hooked in his belt.
“Nervous?”