Page 89 of Denial
“Yes! Yes! Please. I want someone to ride with me.”
Alice peers at the structure, a look of disgust on her face. “Oh, no. That ride isn’t for me. I’m waiting for the Ferris wheel.”
Nellie’s eyes grow round. “I want to go on the Ferris wheel too!” She turns in a circle, looking for the tall configuration. “It’s all the way over there. Let’s do this one first.”
“I’ll take you. Alice can wait here and hold your things.”
Thanks,Alice mouths, arms weighed down with bags and plushies.
I tip my chin in acknowledgment, thinking I just scored points all around. It’s not until five minutes later, as Nellie holds on to the Scrambler for dear life and mutters, “I don’t feel so good,” that I realize we all fucked up.
“Hold it in, kiddo.” I grimace at the green tint to her pale skin.
“Stop the ride!” Nellie shouts, squeezing her eyes shut. Her knuckles whiten around the metal handles.
“Hey!” I wave my arms each time I pass the teenage attendant. “Stop the ride!”
“I’m going to throw up,” she cries, leaning against my arm.
Hell, no. I’ve been a single dad for her entire life, but I don’t do vomit. Not without risking being sick myself.
“That way. Lean that way.” I prop her up against the outer edge and gently pat her back. “The ride is almost done. Try closing your eyes.”
She immediately gags. “That’s worse!”
“Open them! Open them,” I urge frantically. For fuck’s sake, how long is this thing? “Try looking at one unmoving point. Your brain is just getting dizzy.”
What feels like fifteen minutes later but is probably less than three, the ride slows.
Nellie groans. As soon as it’s safe to unbuckle, I shove her head between her knees.
“Deep breaths.”
“What happened?” Alice appears at the side of our cart with worried eyes. Her concern warms me from the inside.
“The Scrambler scrambled my guts,” Nellie whimpers.
I back out of the ride only to reach back in, scoop her up, and carry her to a bench across the grassy lawn. Settling her gently, I keep an arm around her as she catches her breath, her face pale from the wild spinning. Alice sits beside us, her hand resting lightly on Nellie’s back, murmuring quiet reassurances.
The festive noise of the fair fades into the background. For a moment, the three of us remain there, letting the world spin on without us until Nellie’s color begins to return to normal and her smile flickers back.
“Here. Sip some water.” Alice retrieves the insulated bottle she packed back at the house. Cubes of ice rattle loudly as she twists off the cap.
Nellie takes a hearty sip, setting me on edge.
“Better?” Alice asks, hand hovering to take the water back.
“That helped a lot.” Nellie returns the water to Alice and wipes her mouth with the back of her arm.
Alice’s smile aimed at my daughter is patient and gentle.
“Have you ever felt like that before?” Nellie asks.
“Of course. My blood sugar can make me feel all kinds of dizzy and sick when it’s not in the right range.” Alice runs her fingers over the device on her thigh. “And I just don’t like spinny rides."
Nellie closes her eyes. “I should’ve skipped that one.”
The sun dips lower in the sky, casting golden hues across the fairgrounds. “Do you still want to ride the Ferris wheel?” I ask, noting the fatigue settling in her face. She won’t last much longer, regardless of our plans.
