We fell into a pattern as we walked along the lake at EPCOT. Each nation we passed, a different ‘couple’ would wrangle food and drinks while the others waited. Then we’d have a fast, frenetic shared feast and enjoy a cup of wine, cider, or beer.
The day was bright and lively. Maybe I was finally getting used to the weather, or it had finally managed to melt my brain. The crowds made everything feel energetic, but they weren’t overwhelming.
We traipsed into Canada, where we shared the cheese soup, filet mignon, and beer. After that, we went down a walkway and into an apple-themed area. Allison explained that, usually, this space was reserved for a film about our neighbors to the north. There was no place to sit, but it was well-air conditioned, and that made it worthwhile all on its own. We got ciders, of course, but also a sweet treat that was supposed to be a liquid apple pie. Combined with the cool air, it was all very refreshing.
Then we made our way over to the UK, where we got more beer (of course) and had another cheese soup, this one from Ireland. I’m not sure what we were thinking, consuming so many hot liquids on a scorching day.
As we explored, we settled into our respective dates. It felt oddly natural. Allison and I fell into our usual teasing friendship. Mike and Cassie both got lost in conversation. Jack led Emily around like he was giving her the grand tour. All of us chatted and flirted. Exchanged quick touches and shared little kisses. It felt like we were out with a partner, but the fun of that being a person other than our spouse never stopped.
With a succession of full cider flights from both Canada and Ireland (plus the inevitable beer from the UK and a couple other booths) by the time we crossed the bridge to France, I was flying. Emily and Jack were on food duty and brought back snacks and wine for the rest of us. Allison and I leaned over a black, metal table and shared an escargot-laden croissant. The other couples found their own tables. We were still following Emily’s rule, we could all see each other, but we were starting to separate into our own little pods.
Allison caught me staring off at Emily, and she squeezed my arm, pulling me in close for a kiss. It was dizzying, falling back into her lips.
“Let her be,” Allison said, as we broke apart. “You’re having fun, too.”
I was reminded of her remonstration from that morning. Be in the moment. I responded by kissing her back, dangling my hand dangerously close to her breast.
“Be careful,” Allison said, “You could get us in trouble. I like you, but I love Disney. I’d trade you in for a second if I thought you were endangering my mouse time.” Don’t think I didn’t notice that she was worried about what Mickey would think of our indulgence, rather than her husband.
“Understood,” I said, stepping back.
But we didn’t stop kissing. It was Paris after all. With soft music playing in the background, under the overbright sky, full of good food and alcohol, making out with a woman who I found so attractive, I felt like I could have stayed forever.
When we got to America, however, we crashed. Hard. We’d just passed the towering pagoda in Japan and entered the classical architecture of Washington D. C. And, like stepping through a portal, everything shifted.
The effects of all that alcohol I’d consumed punched me right in the chest. The heat of the Florida sun finally overcame me. I felt so tired and loopy, I could barely breathe.
I quickly realized that Allison was feeling it too. We all were. The six of us stumbled into the main, rotunda building. There were tables set up in there and the A/C was aggressive. The place was about half full, mostly people who’d clearly run into the same wall as us. We fell into our black, metal seats like wanderers at an oasis.
“You OK?” I asked Emily. My wife was resting her head on her hand. She groaned in response.
“Every Person Comes Out Tired,” Mike said, ticking the acronym off his fingers. “It’s an old joke.”
“We’ll take a little break,” Cassie said. Even her bubbly personality had slowed to a simmering burble.
For a while we sat there, breathing. Like it was the most engaging thing in the world. We didn’t kiss or flirt. Even touching felt like too much of an effort. So, we stared off, slowly congealing into the hard metal chairs.
There were water fountains outside the building, as well as bathrooms. One by one, Jack, Emily, Cassie and Mike went out to use one or the other, eventually leaving Allison and I sitting at our table.
The athletic blonde woman picked up my hand and played with my fingers, looking at them like they were some strange new creature she’d just discovered.
“You don’t talk enough,” Allison said, her words slightly slurry.
I raised my eyebrow. I was used to hearing that complaint.
“Why don’t you talk?” she pressed, “You’re smart and funny. Is it the accent? Are you ashamed of it?”
“Sometimes,” I said, “I know it’s a lot.”
“I think it’s really sexy,” Allison said, “The first time I heard you talk, I almost came in my pants, right there.”
I glanced around the large, open room, nervously. Most of the tables had filled, but our voices didn’t carry. The odd echoes of the room gave everything an unnatural hush, thankfully.
“I hear you trying to hide it,” she said, making her voice flat and nasal. “I wish you’d just talk normal.”
“You vant me to talk like dis?” I said, speaking so heavy that I sounded like the villain in an old spy movie. I also realized that I sounded a lot like my dad. So that was telling. “Ve have vays of making you talk, comrade.”
“I want you to be yourself,” Allison said, giving me a slight, pouty shove. “I like you, Paul. Like like you. But I like you you.”
I must have been smashed, because all of that somehow made sense. I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes and reset.
“I like you, too,” I said. I realized I was talking to her the way I spoke to Emily, not trying to hide my accent or clip my words. Just expressing myself honestly. “I find you very attractive.”
“Psh, not like Cassie,” Allison said.
It was the first time she’d fully acknowledged that she was jealous about what was going on with her husband. She’d touched on it before at Hollywood Studios. But she’d still seemed mostly blase about what was happening, like it wasn’t a big deal. I was the one who was obsessing over my spouse, and Allison was my anchor. Now I got the sense that her confidence was all a front. That she was feeling as frightened by everything as I was. She was just better at hiding it.
“I think you’re fantastic,” I said, “You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I’m constantly impressed. In awe.”
Allison sat back and stared at me. Jaw agape. That swaggering smile that I liked so much snuck onto her face. She didn’t even bother to count it out.
Allison leaned over and kissed me. If that was the first time I’d truly spoken to her, then I could sense this was the first time she was truly kissing me. Not to be playful or as a way to initiate intimacy, but as pure, unbridled affection.
“I told you,” she said, “Big. Girthy. Paragraphs.”
When we broke apart, we saw Jack standing over our table. A funny little grin played on his lips.
“Hey guys,” he said, “Emily’s feeling pretty wiped.” Again, he was acting paternal, rather than like a man who happened to be fooling around with my wife. “I’m thinking it’s time we take a break.”
Allison and I followed him out of the America pavilion and over to the side. Under a white roof were a bunch of wooden picnic tables in the shade. Most of them had kids sitting there, coloring. We found Cassie and Mike sitting with Emily. My wife was taking big gulps of water from Mike’s bottle.
“Everybody feeling OK?” Allison asked. Now she was the one sounding like a parent. This was getting strange.
“Just a little tired,” Mike said.
“And maybe a little drunk,” Emily said. She hiccupped, like she was in a cartoon.
“There’s a theater back in France,” Allison said, “It’s a cute little movie thing. We could go do that. Or right here in America, they do a show with an animatronic Ben Franklin. It’s kind of fun. But if you nap, you’re not missing anything. We could do stuff like that for a bit.”