Page 39 of The Bro Date
The drive is easy, and soon enough, we’re pulling into the parking lot of our destination. Toby’s face lights up in recognition.
“Oh my God, we’re going to see the butterflies!”
Before we visit the Butterfly Bungalow, we stop at the Orchid Observatory and walk through the humid greenhouse full of rock-wall waterfalls, climbing orchids, hanging moss, and a plethora of other exotic plant life.
It’s beautiful here, and I know Toby agrees because he’s taking photos of nearly everything.
“Are you ready to see the butterflies now?” I ask, throwing an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close. “I mean, theyarestill your favorite insect, right?” I tease, giving him a playful squeeze.
“Actually, yeah. They are, you asshole,” he chuckles, fake elbowing me in the side and making me laugh.
I keep my arm around him as we walk down the path to the greenhouse where the butterflies live, observing the beautiful plants, flowers, and water features along the way.
“Hi! I’m Lettie. Welcome to the Butterfly Bungalow,” a small woman with bright orange hair greets us. “Step in here, and I’ll go over the rules.” She smiles kindly, opening a curtain of plastic strips. “Okay, the rules are simple. Keep the curtains closed so no butterflies escape. Do not touch the butterflies. If they land on you, that’s okay, of course. Stay on the path and watch your step. We have a lot of caterpillars as well, and we don’t want any squished. There are nectar sticks in small bowls; be sure to grab one before you enter the bungalow. And most importantly, have a great time!”
“Ready?” I ask Toby, lifting my arm from around his shoulders and grabbing two sticks with small sponges on the end. I hand one to Toby, and we step into a tiny bustling world full of colorful butterflies, flowers, and cute little green caterpillars. We start slowly, watching our step as we begin walking the circular, looping pathway through the bungalow.
“Whoa,” Toby says in awe. “This is so freaking cool.”
I smile at the enthusiasm for science and bugs that he’s had since he was a kid.
A butterfly suddenly lands on my stick, its tiny tongue sucking up the nectar.
Toby leans closer to get a better look. “That’s called the proboscis. It’s a coiled tube that unrolls to feed from flowers.”
“Like a straw?” I ask.
Toby giggles, making the butterfly fly away. “Yeah, basically.”
When the next butterfly lands on my stick, I call Toby over, slowly transferring it to his. I snap a couple photos for him and just stand there, watching the sheer joy on his face, and I realize I fucking love making him happy.
“This is a male monarch,” Toby whispers, his golden eyes analyzing the butterfly closely.
“How the hell do you know it’s male?” I ask, not really wanting to think about it, but Toby just laughs.
“It’s actually really easy. They have two black dots on their hindwings. See there.” He points to the bottom of the butterfly without getting too close, so I lean in, taking a better look at the little orange butterfly eating from Toby’s nectar stick.
“Huh. Sure does,” I murmur, impressed by his butterfly knowledge.
I take a few more photos of him before we get a selfie that we both upload to social media, tagging the location. Tate immediately comments how cute and happy we look, followed by Daija. I snort at Jake’s comment, asking why he wasn’t invited, and put my phone away, focusing on the date.
“Whenever you’re ready, they have a beer garden that also has iced tea and lemonade,” I tell him.
“Sounds perfect.” Toby smiles back at me, his cheeks flushed from the sun and the heat. “But can we walk around the bungalow one more time?”
“Of course, Tobes.”
I’m so glad he’s having such a great time.
We make another loop, and I find myself watching Toby instead of looking at butterflies. Toby identifies even more, taking a photo to document them. We finish our second loop and thank Lettie before leaving.
Toby and I walk over to the Beer Garden for some shade and a cool drink. A small, wooden bar is shaded by trellises filledwith different plant life, from climbing vines to bright, exotic flowers.
“This is so cute,” Toby whispers as we make our way over, ordering two lemonades from the older lady behind the bar.
I buy the drinks, and Toby stuffs a ten into her tip jar. “Thank you, this place is so beautiful,” he says politely before we head over to a large gazebo with picnic tables.
“I’m having a really great time, Shane,” Toby says sweetly, before taking a sip of his ice-cold lemonade. “Ahh.” He smacks his lips. “So good.”
