Page 88 of Denial
“That was easy. You must be pretty sick of waking up with a backache.”
“No.” My tone turns teasing. “If I win, we’ll be sharing the bed together.”
The alarm signals the start, drowning out her gasp at my side.
I steady my hands and aim my water stream through the small hole in the star. A pink-and-green flashing LED light crawls vertically, practically tied to the one beside it. From my periphery, I see Alice hunched over, gripping her gun as if this is life and death.
“Go, Daddy! Go, Alice!”
“I’m going to win,” Alice taunts as her light takes the lead.
“Don’t think so.” I press the trigger harder even though it’s maxed. This is going to come down to who has the better machine.
“Alice is going to win,” Nellie narrates from behind us. “Now Dad is going to win!”
The bell dings. My panel flashes in celebration.
“No!” Alice pouts, flopping back and covering her eyes.
A victorious smile spreads across my face. The machine beside my leg spits out a string of green tickets that I tear off and hand to my daughter.
“Here you go, Buttercup. Go get yourself a toy from over there.” I point at the prize booth across the alley. Alice hands her a matching string of tickets from her pocket.
We slowly follow her.
“I was kidding, you know. I just said that to throw you off your game.”
Alice arches a shapely brow. “Sure you did. Just like I’m not really going to give up the bed.” She fluffs her beautiful black waves and ties them messily on top of her head.
“Are you saying you want me to sleep with you?”
Her lips part, caught off guard by the suggestive phrase.
“Shit. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Alice giggles. “You’re blushing, Sunny.”
I scrub a palm across the back of my neck, feeling the heat in my skin. “You’re going to get me into trouble.”
She leans in, grinning. “With who? A girlfriend I haven’t met yet?”
“If that were the case, you’d have likely heard about her by now.”
“When is the last time you went on a date exactly?”
“Why does that matter?”
“I don’t know. Could be the cure for your grumpiness. I hear blue balls can be a medical emergency.”
I choke on my spit as it suddenly dries in my throat. “I do not have blue balls,” I snap.
“See? Grumpy.”
“Months,” I find myself admitting to her. “More than a year.”
“Dad, I want to go on that ride next.” Nellie pushes a pink plush dog into my hands before Alice can respond to my confession. I follow the direction of her finger.
“You want to ride the Scrambler?”
