Page 113 of Don't Call Me Daddy
The realization hits me all at once—how everything is happening so fast and there’s nothing I can do to slow down time, no matter how desperately I want to. Of course I’d make it all this way, get to the final leg, and drop the ball at the end. God, this is exactly like me, always the fuckup who needs her sister—and now Leo—to clean up my mess.
It’s a painful reminder not to get ahead of myself with all my high hopes and dreams for the future. There’s a reason my sister created that list, a reason I always let her take the lead. When I’m in charge, I make everything a mess … just like the current state of my life.
“I promise you, I’ll figure it out,” Leo says, pulling me into a hug.
And the thing is, I know he will because he always does … I just wish he didn’t always have to.
I shake my head, feeling defeated and oddly relieved that the pressure’s finally off. Once the worst thing you can imagine comes true, what else is there to worry about? It was bound to get lost or destroyed eventually. I should be proud that I managed to keep up with it for five years. At least I’ve got the monkey off my back now …
“Let’s just go. We’re already going to be late because of me. I don’t want the whole day to be ruined because I can’t remember to keep up with precious, irreplaceable things.”
“Baby girl, please don’t beat yourself up about this. I promise you, if I have to spend the whole night searching, I’ll find that list, and you’ll have it in your hand the moment you walk into that castle tomorrow evening. You have my word.”
Rather than argue, I just nod.
Maybe this is for the best. I still have her ashes to deal with. Maybe this is ripping off the Band-Aid so I won’t feel so sad when it’s complete. I’ve never been good at goodbyes anyway.
“You ready, Miss Ivy?” James, the security officer working the front entrance, asks, and I wipe my sweaty palms against my overalls.
There’s a small crowd gathered at the front entrance, and people are slowly filing in behind them.
I check the time on my phone, seeing it’s exactly eight a.m. Thanks to Leo’s impressive driving—honestly, I hadn’t known he was capable of driving that fast—we managed to swing by Bakery to grab doughnuts for the whole crew and get our coffees with only seconds to spare. But the important thing is, we weren’t late.
Leo’s stationed on the other side of the festival, helping coordinate the dunking booth and fair rides, while I’m set up at the entrance.
I could beat myself up over losing the list—hell, I’ll have plenty of time for that on my fifteen-hour flight tonight—but right now, the most important thing is making this festival run as smoothly as possible.
Let’s do this.
“James, open the gates.” I give the all clear, and I sit back and wait for the chaos to finally begin as the chatter from the crowd of excited people fills the air.
Oh, the sweet sound of distraction. It’s exactly what I need, giving me a break to allow the initial shock to wear off. Nothing like delaying the pain I’ll inevitably feel for a little while longer.
James clinks the metal hook from the railing, and a line of people file in, tickets in hand and smiles on their faces.
“Welcome to Phantom Fest. Here’s a booklet with an itinerary of events, and there’s a bingo card in the back. If you fill it out and turn it in, you’ll be entered to win a vacation package to next year’s event. There’s a total of ten winners, so that’s pretty good odds.”
I add the booklets to the bags and stamp hands, then point them toward the first show of the morning, watching as they take in the expansive decorations and list of events.
“Wow, this is incredible. I’ve been coming to this festival for years, and it’s never been this big. What sparked the change?” a woman says as I stamp her hand.
I shrug. “We felt inspired by someone who wasn’t able to make it.”
“Well, be sure to tell them thank you. I’m obsessed with the Phantom. Been listening to stories about him since I was this big.” She playfully tousles her little girl’s hair. She can’t be older than four or five years old.
“I certainly will. Have a good time today and make sure to stop by the kiddie area. There’s free face painting and a photo op to have the Phantom Photoshopped into your picture so it looks like he’s attacking you.” I waggle my brows at the little girl.
“Him’s not mean,” she says, shaking her head. “Him’s a nice monster. Can I take a picture with him smiling?”
Her question catches me off guard, and I lean in. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have to check … but we should be able to do that.”
She smiles brighter, looking excited, and tugs on her mom’s shirt. “Yay. Mommy, can we please go there first? Can I hang my picture over my bed so he can watch me sleep?”
I jot down a note to call the photographer. “You’re a brave little girl, aren’t you? I would’ve been terrified to see something like that on my wall at night when I was little.”
Her mom gives me a knowing smile. “It’s natural to be afraid of things you don’t understand, but that doesn’t mean those things are scary. Right, Violet?”
“Right,” the little girl says, flashing me a grin.
