Chapter 1- "Playing Games"
The sun was bright, the day warn for early May, but it was perfect weather for a picnic at the park and a little pretending.
"I am the big bad troll," a man called to a little girl who stood at the foot of a bridge. "Unless you give me something good to eat, you will never cross my bridge!"
She let out a childish laugh as she drew a stick up as a sword.
"Unless you hand over the princess," she called back, "you will never eat another meal!"
"Who said anything about me having the princess? Why do trolls always get branded as bad guys?"
"Daddy!" The little girl sighed. "If you aren't going to play fair, I don't want to play with you anymore."
"It was just an honest question," he objected.
After throwing down her weapon of choice, with a roll of her eyes the little girl turned and ran in the opposite direction-back to the playground and the swings.
"Alissa Marie Vaughn!" The man yelled at his daughter's small, retreating back.
Michael Vaughn let out a sigh as he heard light laughter behind him.
"It looks like the princess won't be saved today will she?"
"Well, it depends," he replied as arms wrapped around his waist. "Does Princess Sydney want to be saved?"
"Not when her captor is as cute as you are. Why do you always play the bad guy? I always saw you as my Prince Charming and I though princes were frogs not trolls."
"Who said I wasn't a frog before?" he asked as he turned and faced her.
"Well," Sydney began as she removed her arms from his waist and snaked them around his neck, "a frog is suppose to turn into a prince when a princess kisses it, so you should have been a frog when I first met you, unless there was another princess. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"You're such a tease," he muttered as his mouth descended on hers and he pulled her closer to him by wrapping his arms around her waist.
They were both too involved to notice soft footsteps behind them. Their public make-out session was cut short by a stick that found itself poking into Michael's back.
"Daddy, do you know what Uncle Eric told me?"
Michael reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Sydney's as he let out a small sigh. "No, what did he tell you?" he asked his daughter who he knew was the welder of the "sword".
Sydney restrained a giggle and laid her head on Michael's shoulder. "You gotta tell him to stop teaching her things," she playfully whispered.
"Tell me about it," was his reply. "Alight, Alissa. What did Uncle Eric say?"
"'No PDA.' That's what he said."
As she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud, Sydney's body shook against her husband's from the laughter that was being contained inside.
"PDA," Michael repeated. "Honey, do you know what PDA means?"
To anyone observing, the question would seem a bit absurd. Why question if she knew what it meant if she was using the word in the correct context? The casual observer however, would not be able to tell that the smart little girl picked up on things and used them where she thought they went. Most times, she got lucky. No one but people who really knew her-such as her parents or her "Uncle Eric"- realized she wasn't as old as she acted. She was only four, not the seven or eight she acted.
She was an exquisite replica of her mother with the exception of her eyes that were the same brilliant jade orbs that her father had. The brown hair, that was pulled into pigtails for this outing, had a soft, natural curl to it when it hung free. Sydney's hair had been the same when she was little.
As Alissa stood contemplating an answer, she reminded Michael so much of Sydney. It was impossible not to see the resemblance, and Michael loved having the two most beautiful girls in the world. He may have been slightly biased, but he knew he could get Jack to agree with him.
"PDA means." even trying as hard as she could, Alissa couldn't come up with an answer, so she decided to try something else. "Wanna know what else Uncle Eric said?"
Her parents both knew her tactic, but decided to let it go. Neither of them wanted to explain what 'PDA' meant to a four-year-old. One could only imagine the questions that would come from that discussion!
"What kind of stuff is he teaching you now?" Sydney inquired as she looked down at her daughter.
"He told me to make sure you didn't kiss."
"Why did he say that?" Michael asked, curious as to what how his friend had defended his command.
"Well," Alissa began, "he told me because it was yucky, but I think it was because of something else."
"And why else would he say, 'no kissing'?" Sydney wondered.
Alissa looked around cautiously before replying in a whisper, "I think he's jealous he doesn't have someone to kiss him. 'Cuz you do, and Uncle Will does and even Mr. Marshall does! Poor Uncle Eric must be lonely. Mommy, do you know anyone Uncle Eric can kiss?"
Michael's eyes began to twinkle, which didn't go unnoticed.
"Michael," Sydney warned before turning back to her daughter. "Nope. I don't know anyone that Uncle Eric can kiss."
"You have to know someone! Come on, Mommy, you know everyone!"
"No, Mommy doesn't know everyone, but your Mommy does know that it's time for lunch. So, you go with Daddy to our spot, and I'll go get the basket from the car. Sound good?"
"Okay!" Alissa excitedly replied. As she turned to begin to run to a large tree a few yards away that they had labeled "their spot", she called over her shoulder, "You better kiss again quick, so I can pretend like you didn't do it!"
"Think we should take her up on her offer?" Michael asked, but he didn't wait for a reply or permission before starting down again.
This kiss wasn't as long as the one before it as they were once again interrupted by their daughter.
"That's long enough!" she yelled. "I would be in trouble with Uncle Eric if he knew I was letting you kiss!"
"Your daughter is special, ya know," Sydney said.
"Yeah, so is her mother."
With a beaming smile, Sydney whispered, "I'll go get the basket, you go keep her out of trouble, if you can stay out of trouble yourself."
"As long as you're not there, I think I can behave," Michael grinned. "Just don't be gone too long."
"Alright, I'm going. Now get over there," she turned and walked toward the car as Michael turned and walked in the opposite direction to where their daughter sat waiting. The day was looking nice for them already, and he couldn't wait to see what else it would hold.
The sun was bright, the day warn for early May, but it was perfect weather for a picnic at the park and a little pretending.
"I am the big bad troll," a man called to a little girl who stood at the foot of a bridge. "Unless you give me something good to eat, you will never cross my bridge!"
She let out a childish laugh as she drew a stick up as a sword.
"Unless you hand over the princess," she called back, "you will never eat another meal!"
"Who said anything about me having the princess? Why do trolls always get branded as bad guys?"
"Daddy!" The little girl sighed. "If you aren't going to play fair, I don't want to play with you anymore."
"It was just an honest question," he objected.
After throwing down her weapon of choice, with a roll of her eyes the little girl turned and ran in the opposite direction-back to the playground and the swings.
"Alissa Marie Vaughn!" The man yelled at his daughter's small, retreating back.
Michael Vaughn let out a sigh as he heard light laughter behind him.
"It looks like the princess won't be saved today will she?"
"Well, it depends," he replied as arms wrapped around his waist. "Does Princess Sydney want to be saved?"
"Not when her captor is as cute as you are. Why do you always play the bad guy? I always saw you as my Prince Charming and I though princes were frogs not trolls."
"Who said I wasn't a frog before?" he asked as he turned and faced her.
"Well," Sydney began as she removed her arms from his waist and snaked them around his neck, "a frog is suppose to turn into a prince when a princess kisses it, so you should have been a frog when I first met you, unless there was another princess. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"You're such a tease," he muttered as his mouth descended on hers and he pulled her closer to him by wrapping his arms around her waist.
They were both too involved to notice soft footsteps behind them. Their public make-out session was cut short by a stick that found itself poking into Michael's back.
"Daddy, do you know what Uncle Eric told me?"
Michael reluctantly pulled his mouth away from Sydney's as he let out a small sigh. "No, what did he tell you?" he asked his daughter who he knew was the welder of the "sword".
Sydney restrained a giggle and laid her head on Michael's shoulder. "You gotta tell him to stop teaching her things," she playfully whispered.
"Tell me about it," was his reply. "Alight, Alissa. What did Uncle Eric say?"
"'No PDA.' That's what he said."
As she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud, Sydney's body shook against her husband's from the laughter that was being contained inside.
"PDA," Michael repeated. "Honey, do you know what PDA means?"
To anyone observing, the question would seem a bit absurd. Why question if she knew what it meant if she was using the word in the correct context? The casual observer however, would not be able to tell that the smart little girl picked up on things and used them where she thought they went. Most times, she got lucky. No one but people who really knew her-such as her parents or her "Uncle Eric"- realized she wasn't as old as she acted. She was only four, not the seven or eight she acted.
She was an exquisite replica of her mother with the exception of her eyes that were the same brilliant jade orbs that her father had. The brown hair, that was pulled into pigtails for this outing, had a soft, natural curl to it when it hung free. Sydney's hair had been the same when she was little.
As Alissa stood contemplating an answer, she reminded Michael so much of Sydney. It was impossible not to see the resemblance, and Michael loved having the two most beautiful girls in the world. He may have been slightly biased, but he knew he could get Jack to agree with him.
"PDA means." even trying as hard as she could, Alissa couldn't come up with an answer, so she decided to try something else. "Wanna know what else Uncle Eric said?"
Her parents both knew her tactic, but decided to let it go. Neither of them wanted to explain what 'PDA' meant to a four-year-old. One could only imagine the questions that would come from that discussion!
"What kind of stuff is he teaching you now?" Sydney inquired as she looked down at her daughter.
"He told me to make sure you didn't kiss."
"Why did he say that?" Michael asked, curious as to what how his friend had defended his command.
"Well," Alissa began, "he told me because it was yucky, but I think it was because of something else."
"And why else would he say, 'no kissing'?" Sydney wondered.
Alissa looked around cautiously before replying in a whisper, "I think he's jealous he doesn't have someone to kiss him. 'Cuz you do, and Uncle Will does and even Mr. Marshall does! Poor Uncle Eric must be lonely. Mommy, do you know anyone Uncle Eric can kiss?"
Michael's eyes began to twinkle, which didn't go unnoticed.
"Michael," Sydney warned before turning back to her daughter. "Nope. I don't know anyone that Uncle Eric can kiss."
"You have to know someone! Come on, Mommy, you know everyone!"
"No, Mommy doesn't know everyone, but your Mommy does know that it's time for lunch. So, you go with Daddy to our spot, and I'll go get the basket from the car. Sound good?"
"Okay!" Alissa excitedly replied. As she turned to begin to run to a large tree a few yards away that they had labeled "their spot", she called over her shoulder, "You better kiss again quick, so I can pretend like you didn't do it!"
"Think we should take her up on her offer?" Michael asked, but he didn't wait for a reply or permission before starting down again.
This kiss wasn't as long as the one before it as they were once again interrupted by their daughter.
"That's long enough!" she yelled. "I would be in trouble with Uncle Eric if he knew I was letting you kiss!"
"Your daughter is special, ya know," Sydney said.
"Yeah, so is her mother."
With a beaming smile, Sydney whispered, "I'll go get the basket, you go keep her out of trouble, if you can stay out of trouble yourself."
"As long as you're not there, I think I can behave," Michael grinned. "Just don't be gone too long."
"Alright, I'm going. Now get over there," she turned and walked toward the car as Michael turned and walked in the opposite direction to where their daughter sat waiting. The day was looking nice for them already, and he couldn't wait to see what else it would hold.