Page 73 of The Ex Puck Bunny
“Do you think I’m going to enjoy this?”
Heidi tips her head. “It was your idea.”
“I was thinking you’d dress up in your intermission costume again …” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.
Her cheeks turn rosy as she pulls the fuzzy pants up over her legs and attaches the suspenders, instructing me to do the same. They’re a bit snug which makes me worry about the proportions of the unicorn, given our height difference. Hadn’t factored that in.
She looks me up and down and chuckles. In these pants, I resemble half a stuffed animal who ate too many jelly beans.
“Plus, don’t you think things like this are more fun when we do them together?” she asks.
I glance at her half-unicorn get up and pull her into my arms. “Actually, definitely.”
We both laugh and don’t stop as we try to navigate putting on the unicorn body.
“How many Federers does it take to transform into a unicorn?” I joke.
She laughs again. “You’re pulling it down too much in the front.”
“We need to get you stilts.”
“Or you could duck walk.”
More laughter ensues as we try to figure it out, but there’s no point. Bunny’s unee-corn is going to be a little lopsided, and that’s okay.
Heidi texts Cara to open the door for us and to start filming as we emerge, bumping into everything in our path as we head outside to the backyard.
“You guys have to stop laughing,” she whispers when we near the French doors.
Heidi snorts which sends me into another fit.
“Okay, okay,” she says. “I’m pulling it together.”
The door opens and mystical music plays. It’s dusk and theLED lights come on—I’d set them to purple. Derek operates a smoke machine.
In a hockey announcer’s voice, Mr. Rice says, “It’s Bunny’s special day and something magical is on the way.”
Mrs. Rice crouches down next to Bunny and points in our direction.
The kids get quiet as Heidi and I stagger and stumble onto the deck.
I whisper. “We probably should have gone through the house and come around from the front.”
“She’s two, she’s not critiquing us,” Heidi replies.
“Do unicorns make noises?” I ask.
“Like how horses neigh? I have no idea.”
I attempt a sound that reminds me a lot of Mr. Rice’s Dodge before he rebuilt the transmission.
Heidi and I share more stifled laughter as the kids gather around, petting the unicorn’s flanks. Bunny gets a ride, held carefully by her grandparents stationed on each side.
Derek must be nearby because he mutters, “I’m so glad this is all on film. It’s priceless.”
Deborah replies, “And you’d better believe if our kids believe there’s a Big Foot, you’ll be in costume lurking in the woods.”
“Is this really what I’m going to be in for?” he asks his wife.
