“Yeah, I love your work!” she said. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. Well, I didn’t know we were going to be here. But it’s cool to be in New York and I get to do all of this for free.”
Oh, the alarm bells were going off in my head. I was younger than Mary, but I was getting a bad feeling. I knew they wanted to come to this con, but were waitlisted. They got here, but what was going on with Mary?
“The costume is not bad,” Michelle said. “I’ve seen a few better wander by, but it’s not bad. Were you designing that on the side at the workshop over the summer?”
And that’s when I had a small moment of clarity. Why was I standing here talking to them? I didn’t have to stand here and get into it with them. I could just walk away and enjoy the rest of my comic con.
So I did.
“Good seeing you all,” I said. And then, because I couldn’t be a complete adult, I reached into one of my hidden pockets I built into the costume, and took out a card and handed it to Mary. “Drop me a line and we can chat cosplay. I’m happy to give you some tips if you like.”
The cards had been Daddy’s idea. I thought it was old-fashioned, but it had my social media accounts and a generic Gmail for email. Just in case I did meet someone with a production company or someone interesting, I had something to give them instead of scrambling to give my cell or personal email, which I might not want to get out.
“That’s great, thanks,” she said, pocketing the card. Even money said that card would go missing over the weekend. I could see a few people hovering nearby wanting to ask for a picture, which I did. Then I waved good-bye and headed on my way.
Two things occurred to me as I slowly began to work my way towards the “VIP Room” to meet up with Daddy for lunch. The first was that I had made the right decision to go back to school. And the second was angling Daddy away from this section and hoping he didn’t stumble on them accidentally.
I sighed as I continued to make my way through the hordes, stopping every 100 feet for a photo. Daddy joked that I had a drama field. I didn’t think so. If he knew half of what I got up to when I was in Saskatchewan he might reevaluate what he considered drama.
Finally, I got to the VIP Room. When Daddy told me had special passes, I thought it was just because he wanted to avoid standing in the massive lines to get into the con. I didn’t give much thought to the VIP Room; it sounded a bit silly. Instead, it was a miraculous thing. There were tables and chairs, so you could sit down and eat food like a civilized person. You could fill up a water bottle. There was a place to hang your coat and stash a bag. And, most critically, private bathrooms. The only thing worse than the line to get into the con was the line to use the women’s bathroom. And using it in elaborate cosplay was also annoying. I’ve never felt more decadent using the washroom in my life.
When I came out, Daddy was waiting, sitting at a table and reading a graphic novel. Killing time waiting for his little girl. Whatever irritation I had with him this morning vanished. He was just there in jeans, a Wonder Woman t-shirt, his backpack on a chair and his cane resting against the table.
“Hi Daddy,” I said, sneaking up from behind, wrapping my arms around him, and kissing him on the head.
“Hey princess,” he said, taking my arms and squeezing them. After he let go, I slid into a chair next to him. There was no need to apologize about this morning. We both knew what happened, and moved on. Sometimes I think Daddy didn’t understand what drama was. Some of my previous boyfriends would be hashing this out with me for days. Me and him… we were good now.
“So how was your morning?” he asked. I gave him the highlights, omitting the part where I ran into Michelle and Ahmed. That might backfire, but I was willing to take that chance for now. He asked how many times I was stopped for a photo, and I told him it was madness to try and keep track of that kind of thing.
“So, spill, how much did you end up buying this morning,” I said. I could tell he was eager to show me his spoils.
He grabbed his backpack, took out a special portfolio he kept inside and started showing me a few of the pages he bought. He was happy with them, so I was happy with them. He’d long since run out of room in his office and he was reluctant to put them up around the house.
“And where are you going to put these, Daddy?” she asked. “You have no more room.”
“Oh, there’s always room for more art,” he said.
He loved saying that. Gradually the house had transformed over the last year. I remember my first visit and the place was so sparse. But now, there’s more on the walls. He dragged me to a lot of markets over the summer, and we’d be at a table with a photographer selling things or an artist with paintings for sale. And if we both liked it, he’d buy it.
Now the house was warmer and friendlier, with all the art and photos on the walls. He also started putting photos of the two of us around the house. It was startling at first, and I wanted to make sure he was ok with it. He said he’d be a poor boyfriend if he didn’t have pictures of his girlfriend around.
My favourite was one of the two of us outside, laughing. Meg snapped the pic, he framed it and it sat on his desk, right next to his computer. The first time I saw it there I could have cried.
There was only one picture of Beth now in the house. In the spare bedroom, where Meg crashes when she comes for a visit, there was a picture of Daddy, Beth, and Meg, from back in their university days. It’s Halloween, they’re in costume, drunk and happy. I’m pretty sure Meg cried when she saw it for the first time, but she refused to move it.
I shook my head and smiled.
“You can hang some up in the bedroom, y’know. I’m not going to take offence,” I said.
“There are limits to geekery, princess. Batman doesn’t belong in the bedroom,” he said. I giggled.
“Well, there goes that cosplay fantasy roleplay,” I said, and then started laughing.
He shook his head, realizing he walked into it.
“Ok, little girl, you’ve had your fun,” he said.
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, trying to sound a little contrite. I wasn’t succeeding, but he let me get away with it.
“Ready to walk around and check out some more of the show?” he asked.
I stood up, adjusted my cape, and took his hand.
“Lead the way, Daddy,” I said.