The last full day of vacation is always the hardest, especially with my family. We hated to leave the magical place called Disney World but as we packed I promised my children that we’d be back next year. Clare and Zoë both know that when Daddy makes a promise like that he won’t break it. Even with my word it was still upsetting to be packing up all our clothes and belongings the day before. After living out of a suitcase for 12 years I have learned that you pack up all your stuff the day before you leave and not the day of, if you even unpack at all.
After making sure that everything was in our suitcases except our night clothes and clothing for tomorrow, we set out for a last full day of fun. We went to the Magic Kingdom to ride some last rides, walked around downtown Orlando, and at ten we headed back to the Magic Kingdom to watch the fireworks for the last time.
Clare and I picked out a great spot, down the street from the castle so we could see the fireworks sparkle right above the lighted building. A few minutes before the fireworks started Zoë let go of my hand and walked up a few steps to tell a few people that she had eaten in that enchanted castle with the owner, Cinderella.
“Zoë,” I warned. “Don’t go too far, OK honey?”
“OK Daddy,” she assured me.
Once the fireworks display started Clare reached into the stroller and pulled out the baby so she could see what was happening. Clare stood behind the baby carriage cradling the baby in her arms. I stood behind my wife and laced my arms around her waist. She leaned back onto my body and I held her tightly. She leaned her head back on my shoulder and I kissed her cheek. The next thing I knew Zoë was back at my side tugging on my sleeve. I removed one hand from Clare’s stomach and put it around my daughter’s waist, bringing her into our embrace. We stood like that for twenty minutes intently watching the fireworks until they were over.
That night, back at the hotel, Clare and I laid in bed unable to sleep. I knew she was awake and she knew I was awake but we both didn’t want to risk waking up the sleeping four year old who was in her own bed next to ours. Zoë was a light sleeper some of the time. She was always easy to wake up, all you had to do was say her name and she’d open her eyes. That made it unlikely for Clare or I to talk during the night when we were on vacation and had to stay in the same room as our children. We had the option of getting a suite almost all of the time, but we declined sometimes because Zoë was in the stage where she didn’t like to be alone in a strange place and since Anya was only six months old, if she cried during the night she needed to be rocked and sang to. It was easier to hear her cries if we were in the same room.
Clare turned on her left side so she was facing me and I did the same. She kissed my mouth and I kissed back. She pulled away and I kissed down her neck. “Taylor,” she said quietly, so quietly that I thought maybe I had imagined it.
“Yes?” I said softly taking a break and looking up into her eyes.
“Let’s not wait three years before having another child,” she said. “Let’s have one soon.”
“Now?” I asked forgetting to whisper.
Clare shushed me. “No,” she whispered almost silently. “Like in a year.”
“All right.” I went back to kissing her neck. She put her head back on her pillow and I leaned over onto her knowing that we couldn’t go farther with children in the room but wanting to extremely badly.
“Mommy?” A little voice piped up from the foot of our bed.
I quickly took my arm back, settled back into my spot on the bed, and pulled the covers up around our bodies.
Zoë had just woken up from a bad dream. Clare and I looked at each other and moved our bottoms over a little so that Zoë could get in-between us. She jumped in and I pulled the covers up around her as she settled in next to me. I placed one arm around her and she leaned her head in my arm pit like a pillow. “Next week,” I whispered to my wife. I saw her lips curl up into a smile in the dark. “Definitely next week.”