A month later, we’re standing in line at a Disney ride as my pits fill with sweat.
I look around for magic at Disney. In this moment, I’m admittedly having trouble finding it. It’s hotter than an elephant nut sack out here. Staring at Molly’s sizable belly, I wonder how she is doing this.
This is miserable.
On top of the heat, there isn’t much Molly can even do at the parks. She spends most of her time pushing the stroller, but she doesn’t complain.
She must be some kind of saint.
We spend the whole day walking from attraction to attraction with the kids in tow.
Wiping the sweat off my face, I spot a fountain. The water is cascading down and looks like a miracle beneath the Florida sun. It’s a beautiful sight to see. I want to put my body in it but decide to settle for just my feet.
Moments later, I’m wiggling my toes in the water. I gesture for Molly to come sit with me.
“Feel this,” I say. “Now, this is an attraction.” The water feels like liquid paradise.
She waddles over and parks the stroller. Joining me on the edge of the fountain, she places her toes in the water. With our backs toward our families, we begin chatting. Lost in conversation, we don’t even hear the employee approach us.
“Miss? Miss?” an employee says, trying to get our attention.
Me coming alive, “Yes?”
“You can’t put your feet in the fountain.” She is shaking her head as if we’re ridiculous.
Weird, because I’m already doing it. Swallowing my smart-ass response, I withdraw my freshly painted toes from the water.
“Sure thing,” I say, saluting her and giggling. The worker shakes her head as we rejoin our families. Guess sitting in the fountain at Disney isn’t as common as one would think.
A few hours later, when it is time for us to reluctantly leave, Molly looks super sad to see me go. Her big doe eyes blink slowly, almost as if to blink back tears.
“I’m gonna miss you,” she pouts.
Smiling at her, I assure her this isn’t the end. “We will find a way back to each other again. I’ll see you on the Internet.” I say, laughing. It sounds funny when I say it out loud.
Little does she know, that I’m already secretly planning her baby shower weekend, only a few short weeks away. Having gotten my dear friend pregnant in the first place, it only makes sense that I attend her baby shower, even if I have to get on a plane to do so.
I’m actually pretty excited about the shower. The original idea for it, was for me to surprise her,
but it evolved into something better. Our friends from Crafty Bitches, decided to come too. They will be flying in, from all over the nation. Included in that, are Molly’s new friends.
Recently, Molly added a new group of girls to Crafty Bitches. I can’t recall where she met them. They actually invited themselves, but I don’t mind. After all, she seems to love them. I’m sure I will too. Besides, the party isn’t about me in the least. It is to celebrate the life I’ve created. Kidding, obviously.
We are still calling me the baby daddy, right? It’s really growing on me.
While planning the shower, her new friends mention that they are struggling with being able to afford the expenses that come with traveling. I offer to pay for a meal or two to ensure that those she loves are there too. It’s what any best friend would do if they are able to.
The day the baby shower event arrives, and despite my fear of them, I’m getting on yet, another plane. On the plane, I distract myself with a round of vodka. When the one doesn’t seem like enough, I entertain myself with another one. That one seems to take the edge off. When we land an hour later, I’m more nervous to meet everybody than I ever was about being in the air.
Chill out. You know these people. Sort of.
Before I know it, we are pulling into the restaurant parking lot. I take an earth-sized breath and hop out of the car. As soon as I spot my funny friend among the other Crafty Bitches, I aggressively hug her neck. I’m so glad that she made it. I can tell by her face, that she is genuinely thrilled to see me.
Looking around, I recognize several faces in the room. It’s almost weird to see all of our Crafty Bitches in a room that doesn’t just solely exist on the internet. As we all say our hellos and quickly settle into our seats, I order myself another drink. Any minute, Molly will be waddling through the wooden double doors.
The room goes quiet.