Page 139 of Even After This
“You want me to lie to your daughter?” I ask as if I’m offended.
“You should’ve had to wear the counterpart to this.”
“She told me I had to be a princess.” I shrug and look as innocent as I can. “What could I do? Plus, I’m sure you’ve had movies where you didn’t care for the costumes.”
“Is this what life is going to be like from here on out? My daughter and almost-wife laughing at me?”
I lean into the door and whisper, “I don’t know, honey, but I sure hope the future holds as much laughter as the three of us have had in the last few weeks.”
Our makeshift bridge sits in the middle of the porch, the green and brown paint we purchased at Home Depot giving our set some definition.
Spence trudges up to the stage and sits in front of the bridge with his legs cocked up and his hands around his knees. As our resident troll, he wears a pair of brown jeans and a ripped-up green T-shirt. For kicks, he added a wig full of short auburn crazy hair and a big gray nose. He’s the only one in the play who has the wrong script and doesn’t know how the production really ends.
He sighs loudly and dramatically.
“Daddy!” Toby yells as Layla squeals. The crowd chuckles.
Alex walks onto the stage, fairy wings, crown, and wand in place, and announces, “‘The Thwee Billy Goats Gwuff.’”
Everyone claps.
Spence crosses his arms and says in a loud, low voice, “I wonder who will try to cross my bridge today.”
Alex walks behind the set to give the picture that she’s on the bridge.
Spence rubs his belly. “Who dares to cross my bridge? I sure would like to gobble someone up for a snack today.”
“It’s me,” Alex says. “Don’t eat me. Merweradith is coming.”
I know someday she’ll say my name correctly. But I hope it’s not anytime soon.
The audience chuckles again.
“She might be more tasty than you are,” Spence says. “You can cross.”
Alex flutters her wand and tiptoes adorably to the other side. Once she stops, she looks at me, smiling, and I begin my trek across the bridge.
Spence bellows, “Who dares to cross my bridge? I sure would like to gobble someone up for a snack today.”
“It’s me, Princess Meredith,” I say. “But please don’t eat me. There is something, someone”—I look back to the door that hasn’t opened yet and can’t contain the giggle that bubbles up—“much, much bigger and better coming along for you to feast upon.”
“Who is this you speak of?” Spence the Troll asks as I step to the other side of the bridge.
The door swings open, and Harlan steps out in all his glory with his arms stretched wide. “It is I, Harlan, cousin to Rocky the Bighorn Sheep,” he says through the giant head of his mascot costume, an exact replica of the atrocious Rocky from Alex’s favorite pizza parlor.
The crowd goes wild. I can even hear Claire cackling from the FaceTime call. Alex jumps up and down, causing her crown to fall off.
“Dude.” Spence breaks character, laughing.
“Get on with it,” Harlan growls.
Spence stands to full height, trying to scowl but failing miserably. “And why do you want to cross my bridge?”
Harlan places his fists on his waist and stands taller when he says, “Because the woman I love is on the other side, and”—he steps across the bridge to hold my hand up with his—“we are getting married.”
Alex raises her arms in the air and yells to the audience, “We’re getting mawwied!”
Chaos ensues, but it’s the best kind.
