Getting Real (Getting Some #3)(58)

“Baby—look at me.”

Her eyes remain firmly closed.

“I can’t.”

And I think she’s praying.

But then we start rolling toward the launch point, and she snatches my hand up—her fingers strangling my circulation like killer vines.

“Hold my hand, Connor. Oh God, please hold my hand and don’t let go.”

“I am,” I keep my voice calm, reassuring, rational. “I’m holding your hand right now.”

But rationality has left the building.

“You’re not doing it right!”

That’s the last thing she gets out before we’re shot forward like a ball out of a cannon—going so high and moving so fast, there’s not even time to scream.


*

“I wasn’t that scared.”

Violet leans back on her hands, her long legs stretched out in front of her, as she sits on a patch of grass with the boys, while I stand in line at the gift shop, watching and listening, a few feet away.

Spencer rolls back and forth on the ground—giggling uncontrollably like an insane gerbil.

“You so were!” Brayden laughs. “Look at your face—this is the best picture ever.”

He’s not wrong.

Because the hilarious five-by-ten shot of the five of us taken by the automatic camera as we crested the roller-coaster peak truly is a work of art.

It shows Aaron dangling his tongue out and flashing the peace sign, Brayden with both arms raised above his head, Spencer bright-eyed and smiling almost peacefully, and me gazing over at Violet . . . whose face is frozen in scrunched, openmouthed, unadulterated terror.

I’m going to frame it and put it on the fireplace mantel.

Aaron takes the photo from Brayden and clenches his stomach as a new round of laughter rolls through him.

“It’s so great.”

Violet sticks her tongue out at them, taking their hazing like a champ.

“I was just acting really scared so you guys wouldn’t feel bad if you were scared too.”

“Really?” Brayden asks doubtfully.

“Maybe. It could be true.”

Spencer scrambles to sit up.

“So does that mean you want to go on again? ’Cause I’ll totally going on again.”

Vi’s response is immediate and sincere.

“Absolutely not. At least . . . not today.”

I walk over to them and hold out my hand to Violet, helping her up and passing her the bag from the gift shop.

“You’ve earned it.”

She bites her lip as she peeks inside. Then she tilts her head back and cracks up—pulling out the black T-shirt that says “I Conquered the Ka!” in big, bold letters across the front.

“I love it! Thank you.”

Vi reaches up on her toes and touches her lips to mine.

It’s a clean kiss, no tongue or lip smashing. But there’s no awkwardness, even in front of the boys. It’s not even a conscious thought—the kiss is more of a reflex—something that just comes naturally.

“I’m about to eat my hand,” Aaron declares. “Can we get pizza?”

“Yes, pizza!” Spencer jumps to his feet.

I slip my hand into Violet’s, folding our fingers together.

“Pizza sounds perfect.”


*

Later that night, after we drop Violet at home and the boys have showered and are in their pajamas and Rosie’s been fed and let out for the last time—the four of us sit in the living room watching a rerun of The Office before bed.

Spencer is squeezed in next to me on the recliner, Brayden’s lying on one end of the couch, and Aaron’s sitting up, on his phone, at the other.

“Today was a good day,” Brayden says softly to no one in particular.

And I smile, because it really was. They don’t know it yet, but I bet it’s the kind of day they’ll think of when they remember their childhood—a collection of simple, small, fun moments.

“Violet’s your girlfriend, right, Dad?” Spencer asks.

“Yes, buddy, Violet is my girlfriend.”

“I knew it. That’s why you look so goofy whenever she’s around.”

“Goofy?” I give him a mock frown. “What do you mean, goofy?”

“Totally goofy,” Brayden confirms. “Like how Aaron looked last year after he got his wisdom teeth pulled, but all the time.”

“Yeah, you’re right, he does look like that,” Aaron chuckles.

“But it’s okay.” Spencer pats my leg, his little face honest and innocent. “I like it when you look like that.”

When parents have a solid marriage and healthy relationship, it gives kids a sense of safety. Security. I used to worry that Stacey and I had robbed them of that. That the divorce would leave them lingering in a constant state of unease and shifting instability.

But looking at them now . . . I’m not worried about that anymore.

“So, I was thinking that Violet might stay over more often, like she did last night. It’ll save on gas . . . and I like having her around and she really likes being here with us. What do you guys think about that?”

“Sure. I like Violet,” Spencer declares.

“Me too,” Brayden offers.