Page 19 of Made for Us

What did you just do? I ask myself after I lick the marshmallow from my thumb and I watch her thank me. She quickly rushes off and I feel like I’m going to throw up as I watch her walk away, knowing it’s because she got creeped out by my gesture. I sit on the sand trying to calm myself down.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Xavier sits next to me.

“What is going on tomorrow?” I look over at him as I watch Penelope go off with Parker to play hide-and-seek.

“Fishing trip,” he informs me, and I just look at him, shocked. “Did you not read the itinerary?”

“There is an itinerary?” I ask, shaking my head. “I just thought it was a beach vacation.”

“Have you met Max and Matthew?” He laughs. “Go big or go home.”

I sit on the beach, waiting for Abigail to come back, but thirty minutes later, I know I have to get Penelope into bed when she comes over and is rubbing her eyes. “Daddy,” she whines, sitting in my lap as I wrap my arms around her and kiss her head. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s go to bed,” I tell her, and she gets up, holding out her hand for me. I nod at Xavier as we walk back to our villa. I make Penelope wash off her feet, and by the time I tuck her in, she’s already sleeping. I walk out of her bedroom and grab a bottle of water before I slide open the back door and walk out onto the back deck. I hear the water hitting the stairs as I walk over to the railing. I open the bottle and drink some before leaning on the railing with my arms. My eyes go to the side where I saw her this afternoon, wondering if she’s in there, wondering if I should knock on the door and try to tell her… I stop right there. What exactly do you want to tell her? I ask myself. My head now mocking my questions with their own. Do you want to tell her you’re madly in love with her? Do you want to tell her that the past six years all you’ve thought about besides Penelope has been her? Do you want to tell her you dream of her at night? Do you want to tell her that all you want is one night with her, knowing it’s a bald-faced lie. I look over and see a soft light coming out of their villa. Pushing off the railing, I walk back inside and to my bed.

Falling fast asleep, I only wake when Penelope slides into bed with me. “Dad,” she whispers, “it’s eight o’clock, and I’m hungry.”

I turn around and wrap my arm around her waist. “Snuggle with me,” I mumble as I bury my face in her neck, her hair falling over my face. “Did you take out your braid?” I ask her, and she nods. “We are going fishing today,” I inform her, and she shrugs

“You can make me a fishtail braid?” Penelope asks so effortlessly. When she turned five and started school, she asked me to braid her hair one day, and I had no idea how. She looked so sad it broke me, so I hired someone to come and teach me. She got me fake hair on a mannequin head, and every single night, I would practice, even on the road. While the guys were playing Call Of Duty, I was perfecting how to braid.

“Do you want to order some room service?” I ask her, and she just nods her head. “Pick up the phone and order me eggs and some bacon.” I slip out of bed, keeping my back to her. There is only so much explaining I can do about my dick. When she was four and saw it, she thought it was an elephant. Then last year, she waited for me to get out of bed, and I did, but I still had my morning hard-on. She wanted to know if I brought a toy to bed. “Press zero.”

“I know that,” she huffs at me, pressing zero, and I hear her. “Good morning,” she says. I laugh, closing the door. She sounds so grown-up sometimes. I slip on some basketball shorts before walking out and seeing her sitting on the bed on her iPad. “They said twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” I walk to the window and throw open the shades and see the sun in the sky. I walk over to my phone, finding there is a text from Matthew

Meeting in the lobby at 10 a.m. sharp.

See you then.

I walk out to the living room to the mini fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, when there is a knock on the door. I open it, and there are two carts. “What did you order?”

“The woman asked if I wanted one of everything,” she explains, coming out of the bedroom, her iPad in her hand. “I said ‘okay, but my dad wants bacon and eggs.’” I shake my head because how do I reason with that logic?

The man wheels in the first cart and then the second, taking off the domes, and I see there really is everything. There are two types of pancakes, regular and blueberry. There are scrambled eggs and an omelet. There is also bacon, ham, and even sausage. The huge platter of fruit will most likely be the first thing Penelope eats. I look at her when the man leaves. “Do you want me to make you a plate?”

“Nope.” She walks over, just grabbing the platter of fruit and a fork. “I’m good. We can have a picnic.” I laugh that she is using my words against me. She really needs to stop remembering everything I’ve said.

As we sit and eat, I turn on the television, flipping to the news as we finish up. Surprisingly there isn’t much left after we finish. “Go change,” I tell her, and she gets up and skips to her room while I clean up the plates and push the carts into the hallway. I’m in my bathroom when she comes back in and yells she’s done. I open the door and see her there in her bathing suit. “You need a cover-up and bring me some sunscreen; I’ll do it now before we get on the boat.” It takes her less than a minute to come back into the room wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top with the sunscreen in one hand and her hairbrush in the other. I do her hair first as she looks in the mirror. “We are going fishing today,” I remind her, and she lights up because she loves to fish. “How about we just stay the two of us today?” I focus on her hair. “Let everyone else relax.” And by everyone, I mean Abigail. I don’t say the words out loud, but I hope I don’t have to.

“Okay,” she agrees, and I wonder if she understands what I’m saying. I finish her fishtail braid, then apply sunscreen on her face and arms, and she does her own legs. I grab my backpack, throwing in more sunscreen, her iPad, and a change of clothes for her, just in case. When we walk out of the room, the carts are gone.

Penelope holds my hand, and when we get to the lobby, there are already two buses waiting for us and it looks like everyone is here. “Morning,” I say to Matthew, who is standing beside Max each with a clipboard.

“Right on time,” Max relays, writing something on the board in front of him before turning to Matthew. “Can you keep up with me, please?” He points at the board. “No wonder we are always late. You are supposed to check them off.”

“What is going on?” I ask of them as they check off names.

“We are taking control of the people,” Matthew states, “so we don’t leave with anyone missing.”

“I wish,” Gabriella mumbles, walking past us. She wears a huge straw hat, a black bikini top, a wraparound black skirt, and strappy high heels. “Gabriella is here.” She walks to the bus and gets in.

“Ignore her.” I hear Abigail from behind me. “Someone drank too much with Christopher and Matty on the beach.”

“She’s wearing heels,” Matthew observes, and I roll my lips.

“We are going fishing,” Max says, shaking his head.

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