I was trying to be patient, but this was getting frustrating.
“Kitten, I really am trying to give you your space, but something is bothering you and I’d like to help if I can,” I said.
She nodded and I gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.
“Do you love me, Daddy?” she asked.
It was such an out of left field question that it caught me by surprise. I tell her I love her a dozen times a day. As tempting as it was to laugh, say of course I do and tell her she was silly, clearly something was bothering her.
“I do,” I said. “I hope I show you that every day.”
She nodded.
“I love you too,” she said.
And I smiled because there was a time I was certain I’d never heard another woman say that to me again.
“So why are you trying to test it?” she asked. “Are you not certain it’s the real thing? Do you have doubts?”
One of the things about being married for over 20 years is that you get awfully good at recognizing hand grenades lobbed at you in the form of rhetorical questions. The problem is you never know if the pin is still in the grenade. I could certainly blow off Kitten, tell her she was being a silly little girl. The DD/LG relationship we had meant I was still technically the dom, although I rarely felt that way. I could certainly emotionally dominate her, tell her she was being silly, and forget about it.
But that was manipulative. It also felt like exactly the type of thing that would fester if I tried it. I’d bet money some of her Ex’s tried it. So I had no choice; I had to fall on the grenade and hope the pin was still in it.
“I don’t 100% understand what you mean,” I said.
She looked exasperated, like she didn’t understand how her Daddy could be this dumb.
“You said in line today that Disney and vacations were a test. And… and I didn’t say anything before, but I heard a bit of the conversation between you and Beth back in Toronto a few weeks ago about how Disney can test and break a relationship. And it’s just… things you’ve said and done sometimes over the last few days that makes me feel like I’m being graded and if this vacation doesn’t go well you’ll reevaluate this relationship.”
Oh God, I thought.
“Kitten…”
“And that’s why I’ve been obsessing on the phone, because I wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, and then you got frustrated with me this afternoon and took my phone, and now I’m wondering if I’m doing a good enough job. I don’t want to lose you, Daddy,” she said.
And then she started crying.
I am the worst Daddy in the world. I have completely screwed up. There’s a difference between being more spontaneous and just being goddamn careless. And somehow I had managed to give her the impression that if this wasn’t the perfect vacation I was going to dump her. I didn’t even want to think how long she had been carrying this around.
The place was packed, of course, but we’d managed to get a booth even though there were just the two of us. I was sitting across from her, so I got up and got on her side of the booth. She moved further in, and I didn’t want to exactly corner her. I reached over and took her hand. She reluctantly let me have it even after she kept sniffling.
Ok, old man. Phrase this correctly.
“Your Daddy is a bit of an idiot, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” I said. Not so much as a smile. Ok.
“I screwed up. I completely understand why you thought that. I really do. It’s the easiest thing in the world to think that, but that’s not what I meant and I’m horrified that I made you think this was a pass/fail relationship test. Because it’s not,” I said.
“You said Disney and vacations were a relationship test,” she said. “I heard you say it.”
“Yes, I did. What I should have said is you learn a lot about your lover when you go on a vacation with them. You learn how you communicate. You learn how you compromise. You learn how you handle things when things go wrong. Because these things happen,” I said.
I flashed back to my previous trips here. It would probably give my psychiatrist plenty of material to work with.
“Ok, story time. You ready?”
That got a small smile.
“On our first trip here, Beth and I got into a fight because she really, really wanted to do the ‘It’s a Small World’ ride and I really didn’t want to. Always hated that song and the idea of spending 10 minutes or so listening to it was unappealing.
“But finally I caved in, we got in line and after 45 minutes we started the ride. Except a few minutes in, it breaks. Nothing is moving. Nothing. We’re sitting in the sun, and it was warmer than this, with no shade, and there’s nothing we can do. We can’t get out and leave, we have to wait for them to fix it.
“We were stuck there for 35 minutes, Kitten. Thirty. Five. Minutes. But that wasn’t the worst part,” I said.
Her eyes were wide, wondering what could be worse.
“The song didn’t stop. We kept hearing ‘It’s a Small World’ over and over and over again. It was horrible. So yeah, when we got off that ride, we didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day. I’m half amazed we didn’t get divorced. I was so upset from that ride, and she thought the whole thing was kinda funny and I should learn to take the joke,” I said.
“Daddy, we did that ride and you didn’t say anything. You could have told me and we would have skipped it. I totally would have understood,” she said.
“Yeah, but Beth was right. It was funny, in a horror movie sort of way. We eventually looked back on it and laughed. We remembered that more than pretty much any of the rides we were on that trip. For years all she had to do was hum a few bars of that song to get a reaction out of me,” I said.
I paused. The next bit was tricky.
“The best relationships the two people sit down and figure out what could be done better. It means talking to one another more… actually it means listening to what the person is saying… and trying to keep calm. I figured that’s what would happen with us, but honestly, this has been as smooth and relaxing a vacation as I can ever recall.
“I just wish you hadn’t killed yourself trying to make it perfect. I don’t like my little girl upset. My job as your Daddy is to make sure you’re as happy and stress-free as possible. You’ve been amazing, but I’m really, really sorry if you did all of it because you were scared,” I said.
She nodded, and she still looked miserable, but she’d stopped crying. That was the moment when the waitress decided to show up with the food. She looked momentarily baffled by the changed seating arrangements, but then noticed Kitten had been crying.
“Should I come back?” she asked.
“No, just place the food normally, please. We’re ok,” I said.
She put the food down and then quickly gave us back our privacy.
“Are you ok? I can call her back and we can take this to go if you want,” I said.
“No, I’m ok,” she said in a small voice. Then the volcano rumbled again and she startled and smiled a bit. “Besides, I like it here. It’s kind of silly.”
I decided not to press my luck and shifted back to where I had been sitting. We started eating our food and didn’t talk much. I decided to not press my luck. I had said my piece and I hoped she knew I was sincere.
It was an awkward meal. I asked if she was ok, and she nodded. I had to resist the urge to ask if she was ok every two minutes. After supper was over, I asked if she wanted dessert. To my mild astonishment she said no. Kit normally has no problem putting away something sweet after a meal and they had ludicrous desserts here. Now I was getting worried. I thought I’d explained everything and I thought it made sense, but maybe it didn’t.
As we were leaving I was going to find a quiet spot and try talking to her again, when she turned and looked at me.
“Daddy, do you mind if I go wander alone for a little bit? I just… I need to clear my head a bit. Is that ok?” she asked.
I had full blown alert sirens going off in my head and it felt like acid was dripping into my stomach. But sure, go for a walk. No problem.
“I understand, Kitten. Take your time. You have your phone and everything you need?” I asked.
She smiled and tapped her purse.
“I’ll be ok, Daddy. I won’t be too late,” she said, got up on her toes and kissed me on the cheek. Then she turned and walked away from me, in the opposite direction of the hotel.
The problem with being a planner with a pretty good memory is that you get to relive every bad conversation in your head like a highlight reel. If you’re still dealing with depression, even if you’ve had a really good few months, it’ll kick in and do slow motion replay and commentary on everything you did wrong.
The trip from the restaurant back to the hotel room was exactly like that. It had been quite some time since I had last done this to myself. Not since the weeks after the accident when I replayed everything I should have done differently the night of the accident. If I had hugged a friend a little longer, Beth would be alive. If I had sped to try and catch the third light after the bar, Beth would be alive. My psychiatrist had helped get me out of that cycle, but it wasn’t easy.
I got back to the room and couldn’t settle, terrified she was going to come back and break up with me. It was an insane thought, but it sat there and spun in my head like a carousel. After months of being locked away in a cage of happiness, whatever depressed monster that lives in my head broke loose and went on a rampage. Of course she would dump me, look at the terrible thing I did, causing her all that stress. Never mind that we’d both been ecstatically happy the last five months. That we had been happy just this morning.
I couldn’t sit in the room and I didn’t want to be out when she came back. I went out on the deck and sat on a couch out there. Around nine o’clock the fireworks show began and I watched the explosions without her for the first time on the trip. I never knew fireworks could be depressing.
She had until 11 pm before I started texting to make sure she was ok. Disney is safe, and I know she can take care of herself, but any later than that and I had justified reasons to make sure she was all right.
At 10:40 I heard the click of the door opening. I was simultaneously relieved and terrified. I heard her walk into the room and after a moment I heard, “Daddy?”
“Out on the deck,” I called out. I’d left the door partly open so I could hear her come in. Normally I feel guilty about the air conditioning blasting out the door and into the night. Tonight I didn’t have the energy for it.