Work Text:
Vander wasn’t used to bright sunshine, nor was he used to being awake this early. Being in a crowded space was a daily event, but not like this. Not this many people, all bustling around. It was enough to make even the most stoic of extrovert nervous.
"Ah come on,” sighed Vander as he lowered himself onto the edge of the white granite fountain. The bright morning sunshine was already affecting his eyes. “It's a special day today. Aren’t you enjoying yourself?"
Silco sat beside him, legs crossed with an elbow on his knee, causing his back to curl. Vander often teased him about this, saying he ‘sits like a shrimp’. He watched their girls from under the wide floppy brim of a khaki sun hat, the plastic reusable bottle containing ice tea rocking in his fingertips. "I am not enjoying myself, no."
The middle-aged married couple sat together on the raised white and teal tiles surrounding a diamond shaped fountain, which rose and fell in sparkling arches in regular intervals, giving a life-saving mist in the afternoon sun.
Vander glanced up at the bright blue sky and immediately regretted it. "Sun’s giving me a headache already,” He muttered. Realizing that complaining would possibly lower their enthusiasm to the point where they began to regret their choice of vacation, he changed the subject. “Too much sunlight and not enough accounting to fuss over, huh?"
"This isn't about me , though, or US, even.” Silco said as he subconsciously tugged on the hat brim, lowering it a little over his blind side. Vander remembered the ibuprofen he’d brought with him, knowing his husband will be needing it by lunchtime. “I'm not enjoying the day but that doesn't matter. This is about them ."
Vander turned his attention to the barker booths where their daughters were causing a small crowd to gather. A few parents and a handful of colorful teenaged punks grew increasingly enthusiastic, applauding and cheering as Powder, aged nine, brutalized a shooting game. Her chin just barely reached over the counter as she fired ping pong balls with professional accuracy through every moving clapboard duck. Her sister Violet, aged fourteen, stooped low beside her, muttering words of encouragement through clenched teeth.
Vander admired their commitment to each other. The only time he’s seen them fight was when they stepped on each other’s toes, as children will do. Powder was a natural engineer, taking everything mechanical in the house apart the moment she was old enough to hold a screwdriver, and had the finest eye-hand coordination he’d seen in his life. As long as she had plenty of loving support (she would get sullen and clingy if discouraged), Vander had no doubt she had a bright future ahead of her, especially since she had attached herself to the equally introverted Silco. They were alike in the best of ways, and their connection had been strong and immediate. Unlike the other children in the adoption centers, she hadn’t been afraid of Silco’s aloof demeanor and scarred, blind left eye. She’d approached, asked how he’d gotten his scar, and that was it. She was his daughter.
Vi, on the other hand, was almost exclusively kinesthetic. Hot-headed, quick to action, and unreasonably strong for her age, Vi was in the precarious place of being lost in the system. Schools aren’t kind to kids who think physically and neither was the job market. Vander and Silco had many late-night discussions regarding Vi’s struggles in school and reached the conclusion that it would be best to encourage her to focus her energy into sports, and she adored sports. The rougher and dirtier, the better. She’d been banned from girl's field hockey, which they’d learned was the most violent sport known to mankind, for elbow-diving an opposing child into the goalie net.
They’d considered getting her into wrestling but worried for the mortality of the other children. They’d finally settled on boxing, which proved to be the right move. Small and stocky, she’d flown up the ranks faster than any of her peers, quickly becoming her trainer’s golden child. Vander would think back on her accomplishments in the ring whenever her teachers or Silco argued that she needed to focus harder on subjects that didn’t interest her. He’d never been an academic, either, so he didn’t think forcing her to care about math and grammar was terribly important. This was a regular subject of debate in their household.
“It looks like she won,” said Silco in soft amusement, breaking Vander’s train of thought. The crowd around the shooting booth erupted in loud cheers. Vi’s raised fists could be seen above the heads of the onlookers as she bounced. An exhausted teenage barker used a long white hook to take the largest plush rainbow monkey dangling from the ceiling bars. Its huge ears were bigger than Powder’s head as the teen lowered it to her tiny arms reaching up in well-earned victory. Silco squinted, trying to make out what it was they were carrying. He didn’t have the best sight in his remaining eye. He should be wearing glasses but was too proud to do so.
"What a large cat,” Silco murmured, frowning. “We're going to be carrying that thing for the whole trip, aren't we? How will we get it in the car?"
"Do you think they'll look back on this day, when they're our age?” Said Vander, not hearing Silco’s question. “When they’re in their forties and we’re, you know, not around, do you think they’ll understand how much we loved them?”
Silco turned his head enough to look at Vander with his good eye. "You don't think we'll be around by the time they're in their forties?”
“I worry about that sometimes, yes,” Vander replied.
Silco watched his expression. He wasn’t aware that this was something that weighed his husband’s mind. He reached over and squeezed his broad knee. “People live longer these days, darling."
Vi bounced rather than walked, too hyped on adrenaline and sugar for regular human locomotion, as Powder carried the monkey back to their dads. At least, they thought that was Powder. It looked more as though the plush had sprouted tiny striped legs and marched with triumphant determination to the fountain. They announced the victory with the pride of mighty hunters returning with a kill.
"DADS DADS LOOK WHAT POWDER WON SHE DID THAT IT'S OURS NOW LOOK AT IT IT'S HUUUUUGE!!"
"I WON THIS DID YOU SEE ME HUH DID YOU SEE HER NAME IS PANTHEON I NAMED HER JUST NOW ARE YOU LOOKING!?!"
"Pantheon?" Silco whispered, wondering if he heard that right.
Vander chuckled. "She likes mythology. It’s your fault for buying her that Greek legends book."
"But it's not a name." Silco sighed. "Pantheon. Okay. It's creative. I like it."
Powder had insisted that she be the one to carry Pantheon for the rest of the day. This goal, while admirable, was dropped within eight minutes. Vi was fine carrying the massive simian over one shoulder, though she dropped it enough times to make Powder call her a ‘dingus’ at the top of her lungs. This made Vander laugh and Silco to shoot him a dirty look for encouraging negative behavior.
Now that they were in the park itself, having made their first big mistake of allowing the girls to have immediate access to shooting games, their confidence was beginning to slip. Tiny hands reached up for the iced tea.
"It has lemon in it. You don't like lemon," Silco told Powder and he handed it over anyway. She grabbed the large plastic bottle without a second thought and chugged it.
"YUCK!!"
"See? Lemon."
She frowned and wrapped herself around his leg. ‘The Pouting’ had already begun, and it was only the first hour.
* * *
The previous evening had also been entertaining. Vi would regularly glance up from Powder’s drawing tablet to take note of what their dads were up to. She sat cross-legged at the foot of one of the two starchy hotel beds, picking popcorn from a huge bowl, as Powder gave regular commentary on the ‘horrific sea beast’ she was creating and the ‘grave destruction’ he would unleash on the hapless whalers. Both Vander and Silco sat at the miniature round table, going over what looked like five identical brochures they’d gathered from the lobby. All were opened to the map page, each one covered with scribbles and very important notes.
Vander and Silco had spent hours carefully plotting their course, comparing and arguing well into the night. Powder ignored them completely, Seeing their dads grumble over nonsense was a daily event and nothing to concern themselves over. Vi would check on them every so often in case they did something funny that needed to be pointed out.
“Do you have enough maps over there?” she said, nodding to the table.
“No,” answered Silco immediately, scowling at their work.
Vander scoffed. “What?? How many more will we need?”
“At least four,” Silco replied, not breaking his focus. Vi chewed popcorn, following the argument. She had the perfect punchline but needed the exact right moment to place it.
Vander’s mouth dropped. “Why would we need four extra maps, Sil?”
Silco spoke slowly, as the constant questions were straining his already tired patience. “One for each of us. Once we decide on a plan I’ll copy it on each of them so we’ll all be on the same page in case one of us gets lost.”
“And where exactly are we supposed to get more maps?” demanded Vander. “We already took all the ones in the lobby and we can’t just waltz into the park to get more at this hour!”
Vi pointed to Silco’s overcoat that hung over the back of his chair. “There are more maps in his pocket.”
Vander stood up. “Okay, That’s enough weirdness for me. I need a break. I’ll go get us some hot chocolates.”
“With marshmallows!!” Powder shouted, proving that she’d been paying attention just enough to reply if the topic became relevant to her interests.
At around two in the morning, when the girls were sound asleep in their own bed, Silco and Vander finally reached a compromise. They would walk all the way to the back of the park going counter clockwise, hitting three specific exhibits and two rides first (unless there’s a long wait then they’ll try again later), then around the other side to cut through the center, making it for the fireworks at ten. They were so confident that this was a brilliant negotiation that they even shook hands on it.
“They’re going to have such a great time tomorrow,” Vander whispered as Silco changed into his bedclothes.
Powder had decided to fall asleep pointing the wrong direction. Vander lifted her as carefully as he could and positioned her correctly without waking her up, tucking them both in before joining his husband in the weirdly starched hotel bed.
“I hope so,” said Silco, smiling at how the mattress groaned from Vander’s weight. He ‘allowed’ himself to lean into the new topography and press against him. “It’ll be overstimulating, though.”
“They’ll sleep for days after this,” said Vander as he closed his eyes.
Silco smiled. “That would be nice."
* * *
The last hour of the day, however, was far more pleasant.
The husbands stood on numb and blistered feet among an undulating mass of fellow patrons, their girls held aloft on backs that would surely buckle at a moment's notice. Pantheon sat diligently on the ground in a plastic trash bag to keep her clean. Somehow, despite the neon lights of the surrounding signs and buildings, the sky appeared black as void above them.
Then the fireworks began.
Powder and Vi squealed, drawing from hidden energy reserves after the impossibly eventful day. Vi hung on Vander’s back, both arms stretched over his chest, howling as the sky bloomed before them. Powder, sitting on Silco’s aching shoulders, squealed and flailed her skinny arms, waving fistfulls of transparent pinwheels she’d become hyperfocused on for ten minutes and only now remembering that she had them. The upturned faces of the crowd reflected the colors that spread above them, voices rising in awestruck wonder in rhythm with the show.
Silco turned his sunburned face to Vander, who was already looking at him, smiling. A large hand wrapped around his narrow waist and drew him in close. Despite the additional weights pulling them off balance, they succeeded in a gentle, loving kiss, sparkling brighter than any firework.
“Happy anniversary, love,” Whispered Vander.
“Happy twentieth, darling,” Silco replied. “Here’s to many more.”