EPOV
I hold my breath at take off, prepared for the screams of discomfort when Marley's ears pop, but she's as happy as a clam, staring out the window, eyes wide with wonder. She's giving us a play by play of what's going on down below and chewing the gum Bella gave her when we boarded the plane.
Marley doesn't throw a fit; she doesn't question where we are going or ask when we'll get there.
When a flight attendant stops by with the drink cart, she feels like a grown up, ordering an apple juice and a bag of pretzels that she puts in the small purse she brought with her.
"Why is the bottle so tiny?"she asks.
"Because it's a short flight," Bella explains.
"It's so cute and little … like Pooka. Aw, I miss Pooka."
"He's fine, Muffin. He's having a sleepover at Nana and Pawpaw's house while we're on vacation."
"They will play with him, right? And give him lots of snacks and cuddles?"
"Of course, they will."
Bella produces a coloring book and a box of crayons to keep her occupied, and Marley convinces us to color with her. The distraction works for the most part until Marley, having chugged her juice and still wanting to experience an inflight bathroom break, announces to the world that she needs to go potty.
Bella offers to take her to the bathroom and climbs over my legs, reminding me of my dream this morning when she crawled onto my lap in nothing but her underwear.
Of course the plane would hit a patch of turbulence at just the right, or in my case, wrong time. Of course it would.
Bella gives a startled squeak and falls right into my arms, and I'll be damned if I'm not assaulted with the scent of snickerdoodles.
Not wanting to creep her out, I grab her hips and help her stand up so she won't feel the evidence of my inappropriate reaction.
"Whoops." She blushes, and I think maybe I wasn't quick enough. "Come on, Marley."
I close my eyes and silently berate myself. Twice in one day in the span of only a couple hours, I've managed to make Bella uncomfortable thanks to my raging libido. I'm a thirty-one-year-old man acting like a hormonal teenager, and that just won't do.
When the girls return, I jump up so we won't have another incident.
Marley decides that she doesn't want to color anymore, so Bella teaches her how to make origami fortune tellers while I finish my picture.
Their giggles fill the cabin, drawing the attention of our understanding seat neighbors.
"Can I know where we are going now?" Marley asks when Bella gives her another piece of gum for the landing.
"Nope," Bella says, shaking her head. "Surprises are meant to be just that. A surprise."
"Can we play a guessing game? You give me hints, and I guess, and you tell me if I'm right or wrong. Please?"
I discreetly check the label on her juice to ensure that it's not caffeinated because she seems to have gotten a second wind.
Bella taps her chin thoughtfully. "You're really going to like it."
"That's not a good hint, Mommy," Marley whines. "We're doing stuff like real families do. Of course, I'm going to like it. Daddy, I need more hints. Pleaseeee?"
"This is the surprise, Muffin. You wanted to fly on a plane, so here we are. We're getting dropped off back at the airport so we can get our car and go home."
Marley pouts, and Bella slaps my arm. "Don't tease her, Edward."
Marley giggles at the sudden abuse but sobers quickly. "That's not a good hint either. I need a gooderer hint."
"A better hint," I correct her.
She rolls her eyes. "It's what I said. Please."
Bella pokes her in the ribs, earning a hearty belly laugh. "You're going to like it. Maybe even love it. It's important to your daddy and me. We want to surprise you. Just this once."
"Okay." Marley sighs before perking up. "Can you teach me how to blow bubbles?"
Teaching her how to blow bubbles without her three front teeth proceeds to be difficult, and she pouts for the rest of the flight until we're landing. Then the questions start up again as we deplane.
My outgoing girl gets shy when it's her turn to shake the pilot's hand.
"Did that monster eat our stuff?" she asks, hiding behind me at baggage claim.
Bella chuckles. "No, it's just a conveyor belt that will bring our bags out. You missed this part because you were asleep when you and Daddy picked me up on your adoption birthday."
Once we've gotten all our bags, Bella insists on renting the car despite my protests.
She hands the attendant her credit card and turns to me with a triumphant smile. "You paid for the flights. Let me do this, please."
"Fine," I relent.
Our rental is a large SUV, and Bella is uncomfortable driving in a new place, so I offer to drive to our Airbnb. The plan is to change and head to the park for a couple hours.
The house we're staying at is small but nice. Three bedrooms. One and a half baths, with a fully equipped kitchen so we don't have to live off takeout unless we want to.
Marley is disappointed that the pool is out of order, but I know everything will be okay when she finds out where we're going.
There are no more mishaps. We manage to get changed and back in the car in less than thirty minutes.
Bella's leg is bouncing with excitement as the car's GPS directs us to Disney World.
"She's going to know when we get close," I whisper to Bella. "We're frequent visitors during spring and summer break. As soon as she sees Epcot Center, shit will get real."
Bella nods and grabs her phone. "I want to make sure I capture the moment."
It happens wicked fast. I don't know if Bella managed to get a good picture or not when Marley starts freaking out in the back seat.
"Disney? Oh, I see the big golf ball! Daddy? Mommy? Are we going to Disney? To see Mickey and Minnie? And Ariel?"
Each question is punctuated with a kick to the back of my seat. "Yes, Muffin." I chuckle while Bella lifts her camera again.
Marley claps excitedly and dances around.
"Oh, this is the best ever. Ever!"
Bella and I argue at Guest Services when I tell the attendant to add her year pass along with renewing Marley's and mine. She doesn't think she needs one, but if I have my way, this won't be our only trip together.
We visit the Emporium on Main Street, and I treat the girls to classic Mickey ears, paying the extra to have their names embroidered. They use their newfound power, ganging up on me with their bottom lips poked out until I relent and buy my own set of ears.
We usually start at the back of the park and work our way to the front, but it's late in the day, so we decide to visit one of the smaller lands.
There isn't much to do in Frontier Land but that doesn't stop Marley. Her favorite ride in the land is Splash Mountain, and she asks to go on it repeatedly. The line isn't terribly long, and the sun is shining, so we humor her until she gets bored.
After air drying as best as we can, Bella asks if we can head back to Main Street via Liberty Square to check out Ye Olde Christmas Shop.
Haunted Mansion is my favorite ride, and Marley's only been on it once. It scared her at first, and she wanted to go again right after, but the ride shut down for maintenance while we were waiting in line. It was our last day so she's been waiting to visit again.
She handles it a lot better than she did last year but doesn't ask to ride it again once we get off.
I learn that Bella is a history buff when she begs us to visit The Hall of Presidents. Both Marley and I are bored to tears, having never wanted to visit it in the past, but we endure it for her.
I also find out that Bella's weakness is gift shops. She goes nuts in the Christmas-themed store, snatching up just about everything she sees. Within minutes, her basket is full, and I stop her when she starts picking out ornaments.
Grabbing her hand, I snatch the basket off her arm.
"Stop trying to buy one of everything, cookie," I murmur. "It's barely March. There's plenty of time for Christmas shopping."
Bella glances down at our entwined hands, and then back up. She opens her mouth to say something, but Marley chooses that moment to interrupt. She smiles real big, drops a plush snowman back in the bin, and skips over to us.
"Everybody is holding hands now. Yay," she cheers and grabs Bella's other hand. "Like a real family."
Bella is still staring at me. Not blinking. Not speaking.
"What?"
Her head tilts to the side in thought. "Why did you call me that?"
"Call you what?"
"Cookie? You called me cookie."
Fuck my day.
I decide to play dumb because there's no way I'm admitting the real reason behind the nickname. Especially in a gift shop in the middle of Disney World in front of our daughter.
"I didn't."
Her brow furrows. "Yes, you did. You called me cookie."
Fuck my fucking day.
"Uh … you made cookies the other day … I guess it just stuck."
She doesn't believe me.
"Can I get this?" Marley asks, saving me.
She holds up a small snow globe, and I nod. I'd buy her the whole store to get myself out of this situation.
Bella takes the basket back and approaches the counter.
"Bella, you don't need to buy all this stuff right now," I tell her, and she relents, choosing only a few baubles she can't live without all while giving me sideways glances.
We both agree that we're too tired from traveling and the day to cook, so we stop in at one of the taverns on Main Street for dinner.
I start to notice that Marley has something up her sleeve when we go to sit down, and she decides that she wants to sit by herself on one side, and then beams when I pull Bella's chair out for her.
Again my parts are touching her parts. Knees and elbows.
Marley puts her menu up like a divider between her and Bella and me, and we give each other puzzled looks.
It isn't until we hear Marley's low hum, unmistakably the tune of "Kiss The Girl", that we realize what she's up to.
Bella's face reddens, and she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. I take the opportunity to question my girl and break her little heart. I don't want to, but I also don't want to confuse her.
I pull her menu divider down and her smile is devious. "Muffin."
"Yes, Daddy?" she replies innocently.
"You know Bella and I are just friends, right?"
Her shoulders fall. "But you were holding hands, and you took her chair out for her."
"Friends do that sort of thing."
"Oh."
I can't tell who is more disappointed after our little chat.