I grip the steering wheel tightly as we merge onto the highway. It’s raining, and I don’t want to take any chances.
“Thorry, Daddy,” she says guiltily, and she hugs the stuffed animal to her chest as she attempts to buckle back up. A few deafening seconds pass, and I realize I’m clenching my jaw tightly. “I can’t get it,” she whines. “Ith not buckling.”
Before I can say or do anything, Evianna unbuckles her seatbelt and starts to climb back.
The rain.
The seatbelts.
The damn unbuckled seatbelts.
“Get back in your seat!” I yell, and Evianna freezes halfway.
“Nick, it’s fine? I’m just going to help her—”
“Now!” I yell, not caring if I sound like a dick. Her life is more important, and things are starting to feel a little too familiar.
Evianna retreats back to her seat.
“Seatbelt on,” I command, and just as she buckles in, I pull over to the side of the road.
I make sure no cars are coming, and I jog around to Bria’s door. I buckle her in in a matter of seconds, and then I jog back to the driver’s side, checking for cars as I go.
I start the car and we continue. Evianna looks at me curiously.
“I just want to be safe,” I say quietly.
“I understand,” she says, and she’s quiet the rest of the drive to the big wheel.
Twelve.
Evianna
The drive takes fifteen minutes, and it weaves through downtown Seattle. He parks on the street, right up against a building that says Minors Landing. It’s still pouring, so Nick hands me a small, foldable umbrella.
“Brace yourselves,” he says, and then his door is open, and he’s out. I laugh as I jump out and flip the umbrella open as quickly as possible, corralling Bria closely to my side to shield her as much as possible, but she doesn’t seem to mind the rain. She reaches for my hand and pulls me along. It amazes me that she’s always the one to pull me. Cecelia was right. She’s very enthusiastic and full of life. It’s hard not to be happy around her.
There is almost no one here. The Wheel’s “carriages” are completely enclosed, so I know it’s probably open for business despite the rain. We won’t have much of a view, but that’s okay.
We walk quickly to the ticket stand. Nick purchases two adult tickets and one child ticket. I barely hear what the man behind the ticket counter says, but it’s something about a family pass.
“What?” Nick yells.
“Sir, would you like to purchase a family pass? It’s cheaper, and it guarantees that you’ll have the whole gondola car to yourself.”
Nick looks around at the desolate grounds, and then his eyes meet mine. His smile drops, and his eyes darken when he sees Bria tugging on my shirt, and his eyes wander over to our clasped hands. Something comes over him, and he shakes his head violently, growing pale. He looks like he’s just seen a ghost.
“No. Just the two adults and one child, please.”
I look down.
Fuck.
“It’s so empty,” Nick mutters as the man hands him our tickets. “We’ll have a gondola car to ourselves regardless.”
“Very well, sir,” the man says, nodding at me.
I’m just the nanny, I want to yell, but I silently urge him to shut up.
As Nick leads us to the entrance, his jaw is clenched again. His fists are balled up, and he’s walking as far away from me as possible.
I get it! I want to scream. Because I do—I understand.
“Ladies first,” he says through clenched teeth. I scoot by him as quickly as possible, wanting to minimize any possible physical contact.
“Adults on either side,” one of the workers says. “Distributes the weight evenly,” she clarifies, ushering me to one side and Nick to the opposite side of the gondola.