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He wasn’t kidding when he said we would stop at every exhibit. Paisley loves it. The place is deserted compared to the usual crowds, and I’ll admit, when an area is overly crowded, I tend to pass it up. With only Blaze members and their families here today, it’s a completely different atmosphere.
We’re stopped at the gorilla exhibit when Paisley looks up at Easton. “Can I get closer?”
“You can, but no climbing and don’t lean on the glass, okay?”
“Okay.” She skips off to get a closer look. It’s maybe four feet in front of us, but I keep my eyes locked on her.
East steps closer and laces his fingers through mine. “Having fun?” he asks.
“She’s loving it.”
“I know she is, but I asked about you.”
“I am.” I don’t tell him that it wouldn’t matter where we were. If we were with him, we would be having a good time. By the smile on my daughter’s face, I can say the same for her.
“You seem tense.”
“I’m just… we didn’t think about the fact that we would be with your teammates today.”
“What does that matter? Hell, we’ve not even seen many of them, except for in passing.”
“You’re here with a woman and her kid, Easton. You know they’re going to give you shit for that.”
“They won’t. Not that I would care if they did.” He pulls our entwined hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “You’re more than just some woman, and she’s more than just your kid. I want you here, and nothing anyone says will convince me to change my mind. Besides, the guys aren’t like that.”
Apparently finished with that discussion, he turns to my daughter. “Princess Paisley,” he calls out. “You ready for some food? It’s almost lunchtime.”
“Okay.” She skips back toward us and grabs his hand, then reaches for mine. That’s how we walk to the event tent that’s serving lunch. From the outside looking in, we look like a family, one that I know my little girl craves. Worry starts to ramp up again, but I push it back. He’s been nothing but great, and I have to trust in that.
Easton takes charge and grabs two plates, making one for him and one for my daughter. She points out what she wants, and he adds it to her plate. I follow along behind them, watching and listening to their interaction. He sits us at a table with a group of guys who I recognize from that day in the restaurant. “Guys, you remember Larissa,” he says with a hint of pride in his voice. “And this is Paisley.”
“I’m his princess,” she announces, climbing up in the chair he pulled out for her.
“That you are.” Easton laughs it off, as if her statement is no big deal.
“I hear you play ball,” Fisher says to her.
“Yep. What do you do?” she asks them, just like the little adult she always seems to be.
“We play professional baseball.”
“You play with my East?” she asks innocently.
Fisher’s eyes flick to Easton, as do mine, and he’s staring at my daughter like she lights up his world. “We do,” Fisher finally tells her. That seems to be answer enough for her as she picks up her hotdog and takes a big bite.
“Where are your kids?” Paisley asks the group of guys sitting in front of us.
Drew speaks up, “We don’t have kids. We’re just here to support the team.”
She furrows her brow, thinking about what he said. “What about your mommy?”
This causes all the guys to chuckle. “She doesn’t live close, but the Blaze, the entire team is our family,” he explains.
Her eyes go wide. “That’s a big family. I just have my mommy, my grandma, Aunt Chloe, and my East.” She ticks off the names on her fingers. Something she started doing a few weeks ago.
“P, you need to eat so we can go see the rest of the animals,” I tell her, changing the subject. I’m sure she’s giving them way more information than Easton would like.
“Okay, Mommy.” She continues to eat, not realizing the heavy conversation she just started. I don’t look at the guys or Easton for that matter. I don’t want to see the pity in their eyes.
The remainder of lunch breezes by with Paisley stealing the show. Luckily, nothing too heavy after our initial greetings. She rambles on about the exhibits she’s seen so far and even convinces the guys that they should play catch with her—of course, she asks Easton if he’ll be mad at her if she plays with them. By the time we’re finished, my daughter has charmed these big, burly guys. So much so that they all give her a fist bump with the promise of playing catch in the future.
“I think she’s had enough,” I tell Easton a couple of hours later. Paisley is slowing down, and her excitement wains as exhaustion sets in.
