His house feels like his. Mine feels like mine. The kids just settled into their new lives in White Horse. None of us are really interested in change. As long as we keep things simple for the time being, this arrangement can work.
Unfortunately, Hayes doesn’t believe in simple.
“We ought to go somewhere for your fall break,” he tells the kids after we sit down at his dining table to eat.
“Where?” Chipper asks immediately.
I know my son wants a father figure. He tried with his real father, but Toby has no interest in children. He won’t even hold his “wanted” son, Charlie.
Chipper tried bonding with his grandfather, but Charles Eddison isn’t the warmest man. He loves his grandkids, but they freak him out. I doubted he was hands-on with Toby either.
Now Chipper is looking to Hayes to play the dad role. Cricket looks at Hayes as an amusement, but she doesn’t trust people. Outside of her brother, grandparents, and me, she doesn’t seem to like anyone. Hayes can ditch us, and the kid would shrug it off. For Chipper, the rejection would hurt more.
“Where do you want to go?”
The twins look at each other but say nothing.
“Why don’t we stay around here?” I suggest. “We can go to the zoo during the break.”
Hayes frowns. “Think bigger, Candy. What about Disney World?”
The kids’ eyes widen, but they remain wary. Their grandparents once suggested Toby take his three kids to Disney World. He agreed, but nothing ever came out of the plan. Now he sits in jail, so things turned out for the best.
“That’s an expensive trip,” I say.
The twins look at me, and I realize I’m the bad guy. Ugh, can I blame the law for this situation? Is it possible the po-po banned us from Florida?
“I haven’t been on vacation in a decade,” Hayes says, focused on his food.
“Where did you go last time?” I ask.
“Australia.”
“Why?”
“For the koala bears,” Hayes mutters.
The twins laugh, not realizing he's grumpy with me. I admit Hayes and koala bears is funny.
“Why not the boxing kangaroos?” I ask, being grumpy back at him.
Hayes narrows his eyes, and we frown at each other. The kids stare at him and then decide to focus their big brown eyes at me.
“Disney World will be full of children,” I say to Hayes.
“I doubt it,” he says full of sarcasm.
“It’ll be loud and crowded. People might talk to you.”
“Can’t wait.”
Realizing he refuses to take the out I’ve graciously handed him, I smile at the kids. “I guess we’re going to Disney World.”
The kids smile at each other and then beam at me. After all, I’m the one who kissed this big man into taking them somewhere cool. Their mom has mad skills.
“Why did you really go to Australia?” Cricket asks Hayes.
“I wanted to go on a walk-about.”
“What’s that?”
“Where you walk around the outback of Australia.”
“Was it fun?”
“No. It was a lot of walking in the heat.”
I burst into laughter at the thought of Hayes wearing a big wad of sunscreen on his nose and wandering around in the heat. What in the hell kind of vacation is that?
Hayes frowns at me as if knowing I’m laughing at him. He stares hard, trying to intimidate me. Instead, I imagine his frowning face covered in sunscreen and laugh louder. The twins react by laughing too. They’re laughing at me rather than Hayes, but he frowns darker.
“Stop,” he demands.
“All right, mate,” I giggle.
Hayes wants to be angry, but he ends up grinning.
I wrap my fingers around his. “There’s a lot of walking at Disney World. Might even have a koala bear somewhere.”
“Funny stuff.”
The kids and I smile at him, and he finally settles down.
“You’re due for a vacation,” I say, still holding his hand.
“Probably.”
“You like to golf, and they have courses at the resort. You don’t have to spend the entire time with the kids.”
Hayes never considered having fun on the trip. He just wants to make the kids happy and play the role of the nice boyfriend. Now he realizes he could actually enjoy himself.
“Years ago, we planned to visit Orlando,” I explain, “and I remember reading something about babysitters at some of the resorts. We could ditch these two and go out in the evening.”
“Hey,” Cricket says. “I don’t need a babysitter. We’re like eighteen, remember?”
“That didn’t work before. Won’t work now.”
“But it’s a different state. The laws might be different,” Cricket insists until Chipper whispers something to her. “Never mind.”
“You’re the voice of reason,” Hayes says, grinning at Chipper.
My boy eats up the attention. Cricket is mostly focused on me. I reach over and pat her hand. She looks at my hand on hers and my other hand on Hayes. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I suspect she’s threatened by the changes.
I’m proven correct when she grabs onto me after dinner and wants to hold my hand while we stand outside. Hayes and Chipper throw the ball to Nightmare until the dog decides he’s bored of exercise and walks inside.