Page 97 of First Comes Forever

I fish out my wallet and pull out a few one-hundred-dollar bills. “How about you go get the birthday boy a churro or Dippin’ Dots or something? I’ll tell them I sent you, so you’re not abandoning your post.”

Goofy awkwardly takes the bills, barely able to grasp them in his comically large paw. He hands two bills back.

“Oh no, man. Take it. The rest is your tip. Please go get some water and thentake your timebefore coming back.”

He puts his paw over his stomach and acts out a belly laugh before getting up and waving bye to the table. No one’s paying attention except Tara’s goofball dad. He bellows, “Bye, Goofy! Come back and see us soon!”

I pull out my phone and check my texts.

Amani

Almost there. Traffic is a nightmare. Only able to text you because I’m at a standstill.

Me

Please drive safe. Do the valet parking when you get here. I’ll take care of it when you leave.

Amani

Because you don’t want me to have to walk? Or because you don’t want me to park your Porsche amongst the common people’s cars?

Me

…

Yes.

Amani

*laughing emoji*

“Did you just send Goofy away?” Alex asks as he plops down in the empty seat next to me.

“It was that, or I was going to deck him.”

Alex laughs. “Sorry, little brother. I know this is boring.”

“No, not at all. I’m happy to be here, but I don’t want to crowd you guys. It looks like you’re doing great with Tara’s family. This is day three or four of the trip?”

“Three,” Alex answers, running his hand through his hair. “Or in other words, tantrum number fifty-eight, meltdown number twelve, and about ten ice cream bribes later.” He laughs. “Carson’s too young for all this shit, but look at her.” Alex nods at Tara across the banquet room. Her strawberry-blond hair is in a fancy updo, her face painted with heavy princess makeup. She’s posing for pictures with Carson, who’s dressed as a prince with a crown. My mom is behind the photographer, snapping away with her phone.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her since that day at Piermont, but I gave her my number. We’ve texted back and forth a few times, just mindless small talk. Sometimes I wake up and it’s nice to know she’s sort of back in my life. Other days I wake up and I’m still angry, remembering what it felt like to look for her in the hospital. Or the horrified look on Dad’s face when he read that damn letter. I need small steps forward with her.

“Tara looks like she’s having fun,” I say, listening to her howls of laughter.

Alex scoffs. “Oh, this trip was one hundred percent for her. I think she was repressed as a child. She spent all her time studying. No adult should have this much fun at Disneyland.”

We both laugh.

“Guess what,” Alex says.

“What?”

“Tomorrow night, Tara’s parents are watching Carson, and I’m taking her on our first official date.”

I scrunch up my face. “At Disneyland?”

Alex shrugs. “It was her idea. I’m rolling with it. Apparently, the restaurant we’re going to is going to serve us spaghetti on one plate, and we’ll be sharing a giant meatball.”

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