Bang(9)

With my arms wrapped around him tightly, I breathe, “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been nearly three weeks,” he says as he pulls back to look at me, and when he does, I can see he isn’t happy. “Where the f*ck have you been, Elizabeth?”





“ELIZABETH,” MY DADDY calls from outside my bedroom door. “Do you need help?”

I struggle against the glittery fabric of my princess dress, trying to find the opening of the sleeve to push my arm through. “No, Daddy,” I call out in a heavy breath as I twist and wriggle my arm, finally finding the opening.

“Are you ready?”

I walk over to my toy box and pull out the pink plastic heels that match my sparkly dress. Putting them on, I walk over to my door and open it. I look up at my daddy, holding a small bunch of pink daisies.

“I never get tired of seeing that beautiful smile,” he says before taking my hand and kissing the top of it. He then hands me the flowers. “For my princess.”

“Thanks, Da—I mean, Prince.”

“May I come into your castle?” he asks, and I grab his hand, pulling him into my bedroom—our pretend castle for the afternoon.

“Would you like some tea?” I ask as we walk towards my table by the window that my tea set is on.

“I would love some. My travel from the kingdom was quite long.” I watch him sit down on the small chair and giggle as his knees hit his chest.

Daddy and I do this often, have our fairytale tea parties. I don’t have a mommy or any brothers and sisters to play with, but that’s okay because I get to have him all to myself. He has the prettiest blue eyes, but he tells me mine are prettier.

Setting down the flowers, I pick up the teakettle and pretend to pour him a cup while he eyes the plastic pastries, swirling his finger above them as he decides on the one that he wants.

“Daddy, just pick one.”

His eyebrows shoot up in excitement when his hand lands on the yellow cupcake with sprinkles. “Ahh, this one looks delicious,” he says before taking his make-believe bite and then licking his fingers.

I scrunch up my face, squealing, “Eww. Princes don’t lick their fingers.”

“They don’t?”

“No. They use napkins.”

He looks around, and says, “Well, I don’t have a napkin, and I don’t want to waste the icing on my fingers.”

I exaggerate thinking, tapping my finger on my cheek, and then agree, “You’re right. Okay, you can lick your fingers.”

We sit in the sunlight of my room and have our fairytale tea, talking about the flying horses we’ll ride to the magical forest.

“Did I tell you about Carnegie, the caterpillar I met?” he asks.

“You met a caterpillar?”

“The last time I took my steed to the forest, I did. He had some berries he shared with me and then told me a secret,” he says quietly as he sets down his teacup.

“What?!” I exclaim excitedly. “You met a talking caterpillar?”

“I did. Do you want to know what he told me?”

“Mmm hmm,” I hum, nodding my head energetically.

“Well then, he told me he had been living in the magical forest for years, but that he was once a prince.”

“Really? What happened?”

He folds his arms over the tops of his knees and leans his chest against them, saying in a secret whisper, “The kingdom’s sorcerer cast a spell on him, turning him into a caterpillar.”

“Oh no,” I gasp. “Why?”

“Turns out, the king was upset because he told Carnegie to stop sneaking out of his room at night and stealing juice boxes from the fridge, so he had the sorcerer use his magic to turn him into a caterpillar.”

“Daddy!”

He has a playful smile on his face. I know he’s teasing me since he’s been getting on to me about waking up and drinking juice boxes at night. Last night he scared me when he turned on the kitchen light and caught me drinking an apple juice.

“You’re not gonna cast a spell on me, are you? I don’t wanna be a caterpillar.”

“Why not? I could introduce you to Carnegie.”

“But I would miss you,” I pout.

He reaches out his arms for me. “Come here, baby doll,” he says as he turns in the small chair and stretches out his legs. Hoisting me up on his lap, he wraps his big arms around me and makes me giggle when he kisses the tip of my nose. “I’d never cast a spell on you and send you away. You’re my little girl, you know that?”

“I thought I was a big girl now that I’m five.”

“No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my little girl. I love you more than anything.”

“Anything? Even more than chocolate?”

I watch him laugh, big smile, lines at the corners of his eyes. “Even more than chocolate.”

I place my hand on his cheek, prickly with his stubble, and tell him, “I love you more than chocolate too.”

He pecks his lips to mine and then asks, “You wanna know what’s sweeter than chocolate?”

“Uh huh.”

Before I can leap off his lap, he starts playfully attacking my neck, tickling me as he blows raspberries and then plops us on the floor as I roll around, laughing and squealing. He doesn’t stop until the doorbell rings. As I try and catch my breath from all the laughing, he sits up on his knees and orders, “Hop on.”