Page 58 of Daddy Issues

“If I can ride, too.”

“Yes!”

“Then that settles it. Let me get ready.” A quick swipe of mascara, dusting of bronzer, a smear of lip gloss later, and I was good to go.

Lunch was a little sandwich shop downtown that we could walk to from the apartment. Eli chattered incessantly through his grilled cheese. I was ravenous since I hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours, so I listened as I chewed.

He talked about drawing, wanting to tattoo oranges without the peel.

I glanced at Puck, who chuckled and wiped his mouth. “I’ve got an old gun and some ink.” Then he glanced at Eli. “And I said when you were older.”

“Iamolder.”

I sipped soda and watched the big guy argue with a tiny version of himself.

“Yearsolder,” he said with a happy twinkle in his eyes.

“I’ll be years older on my birthday.”

Puck snorted. “No, that’s one year older.”

“Five. I’ll be fiveyearsold.”

“How about when you are twelve?” I countered. “That way, you have time to practice on paper first.”

“It’s not the same.” He pouted, but still took another bite.

I leaned down to his ear. “Next time I keep you, you can give me a tattoo with permanent marker.”

“Mean it?” He perked up.

“Absolutely.”

When I glanced at Puck, he was watching with a tender, thoughtful expression that made me feel all sorts of things I didn’t deserve to feel. Not after last night, not after he’d heard the things Nadine said. Because maybe she was right, and I was no better than my mother. Or maybe because I wanted it too damn much.

I ducked my head, continued my conversation, but couldn’t shake the longing for something I could never have.

***

The tiny roller coaster was painted like a green dragon, mouth open, and fake fire shooting from it. Eli clutched Puck’s hand and stared up at it.

“Are you sure you can’t, Dad?”

Puck chuckled and knelt, pulling the little dude against him. “There’s no way I’d fit in that little seat.”

To this point, I’d rode almost every kid ride with him. The bigger things, like the Ferris wheel and the giant slide, Eli had ridden with his dad. To him, the scary rides were the monsters that his daddy’s strength and size could fend off.

Puck couldn’t slay this dragon.

I snipped off another piece of Eli’s fluffy blue cotton candy leftovers.

“What if I ride it by myself first, hands up in the air and never hold on? Will that prove it’s not that scary?”

Eli’s eyes got big, hopeful. “Would you?”

“Sure.” I handed the candy floss to Puck and marched up the rattling metal ramp. The kid taking tickets couldn’t have been twenty-one yet and turned on all his pimply charm the second I reached him.

“Ain’t you a little old for this thing?” He flirted with his lopsided grin.

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