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“I hope she’s not stuck in a baby body. That would suck.”
“Majorly.” I take a seat beside Willow for a quick sec. “Keep your phone on, yeah?” I clutch the glass sides of her helmet. Being physically separated from Willow has never diminished my love for her—it beats just as strongly. “I love you, Willow Abbey. I’ll be delivering the three-year-old package to the academic facility in your honor.”
Willow grins. “God speed.”
I kiss the glass.
She laughs, and as I stand, I’m about to tell Vada to say goodbye to Mommy, but she already jumps up on the couch and clutches the glass helmet like I did.
“I love you, Mommy.”
Willow tries not to cry, but her eyes glass. “I love you more, V.” She fixes Vada’s hair that catches in the hooks of her overalls. “Have fun at school. Be nice to the other students and your teacher.”
“I will.” With her two little hands on the helmet, Vada leans in and plants a big kiss on the glass.
Willow is a puddle of feelings. Hell, I’m a puddle of feelings. Seeing how much my daughter loves her mom and how much Willow loves Vada is like life’s greatest fuel, keeping me going.
After Willow gives Vada a quick, loving hug, we’re off. Out of the loft. Parking garage, check. Secure Vada in her car seat, check. Drive my Mustang towards pre-K, check.
Get stuck in Philly traffic, double check. And I should’ve seen that coming.
“Shit.”
“Uh-oh, Daddy, you said a bad word!”
“Daddy’s…not happy about that SUV.” Why is he cutting me off? That fuckhead. I change lanes and get stuck behind a red light. I check my mirrors. Is that paparazzi? My pulse hitches, and I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
They almost never follow me out of the loft. Not unless someone more famous is with me. Like Lo or Lily.
Vada hums to herself, staring out the window. “When can I get a byse?”
“Huh?” I look at her through the rearview mirror.
“A bykse.”
She’s watching a boy pedal down the sidewalk while his friend skateboards beside him. He does a trick and nearly barrels into a few pedestrians. They shout at him, and he laughs.
What a douchebag. But she’s craning her neck to try and see more. This isn’t the first time she’s asked about bikes. Every time she sees one, she wants on it.
“You mean a bike?”
“Yeah, a…bike.” She tries to enunciate clearer and does a decent job.
“Soon, kiddo,” I say. “Let’s just get through today.”
“Okay.” She hums again.
Traffic lets up a little bit, and as I near the pre-K parking lot, I realize that was a paparazzi vehicle. But they weren’t interested in me or tailing me.
They were tailing the Jeep I park beside. Daisy and Ryke are here with a bouncy, rambunctious Winona. She is hopping up to the curb, her backpack shaped like a Frog.
“Nony!” Vada is already calling, but she’s stuck in her car seat. Bodyguards flank Daisy, Ryke, and their three-year-old daughter like ginormous intimidating shadows. Vada sees them. “When can I get a big man like Nony?”
I unbuckle. “That’s a bodyguard.” Not a giant teddy bear. “And you don’t need one, Vada.”
Thankfully she doesn’t ask why Winona needs one. I’m not sure how to explain the danger levels of fame to my three-year-old.
I’m out of the Mustang, and after I help Vada out of the car seat, I immediately FaceTime Willow.
She answers, back in bed. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. I just wanted you to be here too. Not so far away now, are you?”
“Garrison.” Willow pushes up her glasses, eyes misting again. “How does she look?”
“See for yourself.” I flip the camera as I take Vada’s hand and lead her towards her best friend. Ryke and Daisy are walking their daughter into pre-K ahead of us, and I angle my phone’s camera down to Vada who smiles up at me.
“She’s so cute,” Willow swoons.
“That’s ‘cause she’s mostly you.”
“She’s half and half.”
I disagree. She’s like 80% cutie-patootie Willow. And 20% angsty me. I tell her, “We made a cutie.”
“We totally did.” I hear the smile in her voice. “I’m taking screenshots.”
I grin, loving that she’s involved in this part. And these photos, this moment, is for us. We love the internet. Making and posting gifs. Fan forums and edits. But our lives aren’t out there for consumption. We’re extremely private and trying to raise Vada without the tail of anxiety-inducing paparazzi.
It’s not always easy because we do want her to have a relationship with family. People who are famous. But we know how to evade public interest. Because Willow was a fan of the Calloway sisters before she became family.
Because I understand fandoms.
And we know how to be the most uninteresting, boring thing on the internet. So I’m confident we’ll be able to live a peaceful life out of the public eye.
