Exclusive - "Fooled" - Part 3 (Patreon)

Everything is fine. It’s all good. 

They take the Elizabethtown Bypass and then US-31W, and Dave doesn’t put Anne in a special car seat because he doesn’t have one. 

That’s not a problem. It’s just a twelve-minute drive. And they can get a car seat from Walmart if they really need one. But do they? Because it’s just for a few days, and Dave is such a good driver?

Anne shakes her head from the back seat. They don’t need to spend money on a silly baby seat. And that gives them more money to spend on the important things. Like a new outfit for Anne. And maybe if she’s really, really good, there will be money left over for a toy. Something to play with when they’re back at the hotel. So they don’t get bored. Because they can’t just take naps all the time, can they. 

Anne shakes her head again. Everything that Dave says, makes sense. How is it, that she never realized how smart her partner is? 

So it will just be a quick stop in Walmart. To get some new clothes for Anne – 

pretty princess dress!

And a toothbrush, and a hairbrush-

make my hair all pretty!

And maybe a toy - 

friend for Deer, so she don’t get lonely ‘cause deer wishes she got friends

But no more diapers because they have a full pack at the –

no, ‘cause Anne’s not a baby!

Anne doesn’t feel self-conscious when they enter Wal-Mart, Dave looking smart in his button-down shirt and bootcut jeans, Anne in her fuzzy pink footie pajamas and wild blond hair. It’s not her fault, after all, that she doesn’t have any day clothes. Besides, no one really seems to notice her. Or if they do, it’s to give a bright smile or fluttery-fingered wave. They’re not really seeing her – because they think she’s just a silly baby. Because she’s in disguise. 

Dave puts Anne in the seat of the grocery cart, and for a few seconds Anne is disoriented, the world going backwards. But then she is content to look up at Dave or look to the sides. The first thing she sees are the baked goods, and despite the waffle sitting in her stomach, she points imperiously. 

“Cookies!”

Dave laughs. “You just had breakfast!”

Anne twists her lips. “Cookies, Daddy.” It’s so easy to be this way, to be her very best, very poutiest and silliest four-year-old self. 

Dave rolls his eyes, puts a pack of frosted sugar cookies in the cart. 

Anne kicks her legs approvingly and looks sweetly at Dave. “Cookie?”

“Later,” says Dave. 

“Cookie for Deer?” She holds up her stuffie. She has him now, she has him wrapped around her little pink finger.

“Later,” Dave repeats. Firmly. Because he’s not wrapped around anything. He’s in charge. Put a crown on his head, King Dave, the boss of Anne. “If you’re a good girl. Besides, we’re here for clothes, not cookies.” He corrects their shopping cart trajectory, away from food and through to apparel, trundling through woman’s clothing that is now comprehensively too big for Anne, and into the children’s section. 

Turns out, once they’re on the subject of food, Anne isn’t all that interested in clothes. 

“4T, right?” Dave asks. 

Anne shrugs. She doesn’t remember their conversation from earlier. There’s a lot that she doesn’t remember. It’s hard to remember everything when there’s so much to see right here, right now, under the LED strip lighting of a Walmart superstore. 

A brown-haired woman pushes her cart past, takes the time to smile at Anne. Anne smiles back, waves at the lady. Everybody likes Anne, everybody smiles at her. 

But they wouldn’t like her if they new the truth. If they knew she…

Anne puts a finger to her lips. What’s the truth? 

A disguise, of course. Always a disguise. And a big one this time, changing her age, making her little when she’s normally big. 

But why? Why a disguise? 

“Daddy?”

That’s not Dave’s real name. It’s his disguise name. He’s not her real daddy. 

“What’s up, pudding cup?” Dave asks, his tone light and musical. He holds the top of a two-piece outfit against Anne’s chest. A short-sleeve top and leggings. 

“Whassat?” asks Anne, gazing at the outfit. The top is red, the bottom is covered in flowers. 

“You’re new outfit,” Dave replies. “If you like it.” 

“Whassit say?” Anne asks. She points at the top. There are letters that spell something. Letters always spell something. 

Dave laughs. “It says…’Daddy’s Girl’.”

Anne giggles. But what’s funny about that? She considers the idea in her head – her waffle-filled, jumbled head. 

“Daddy?”

Dave smiles at her. “You want it? I think you’ll look pretty cute.”

“But it’s not…not princessy.” She strokes the deer’s antlers thoughtfully. 

Dave shrugs. “So what?”

Anne pouts. “The lady. She said I’m...” She thinks of the old woman at the hotel. Will she still like Anne, if she’s wearing a red top instead of something pink? She looks down at the crotch of her pajamas, bulked out by the diaper. It feels warmer now. She shifts in the seat, noticing the dampness. But that hardly matters. 

“I mean, it’s kinda perfect if you think about it.” Dave runs his fingers over the lettering. “For your disguise, right?”

Daddy’s girl. True enough. She’s supposed to be Daddy’s girl. It’s her disguise. 

The idea feels solid enough in Anne’s head, and then she shakes her head in frustration. “Daddy, whatsa diss-guys?”

Dave smiles. “Huh, it’s a big word, isn’t it.” He leans in close and says, “A disguise is when you do something just for pretend.”

“Oh,” Anne says. She knows about pretend. “Like a princess?” Wika pinceth?

Dave picks her out of the cart and gives her a cuddle. “Aren’t you cute.” He kisses her on the cheek and murmurs, “Your brains are like scrambled eggs, I reckon. Toby said that might happen.”

Anne doesn’t flinch at the kiss or the slight on her intelligence. But she does frown all the same. “We have waffles, Daddy. Not scrambled eggs.” Noh skambuh-ehhs.

Dave puts her down on the floor. “You got a wet diaper, little girl. I was right to get those diapers, wasn’t I.”

She looks down at herself, plants a finger in her mouth and mumbles, “Was on acki-dent.” She is blameless, she is a picture of innocence. 

Dave crouches in front of her, shaking his head in wonder. “We’ve done some crazy things over the years, but I think this might just top it all.” He pulls the little girl in for a hug, and when he pats her diapered rear, Anne just giggles.

“Makes for a perfect disguise, Annie,” whispers Dave. “You’ll have them all fooled.”

Dave picks out some more clothes, and then they spend quality time in the toy department, where Dave picks out a matching card game – “Educational, I reckon” – and Anne successfully begs for a show-horse stable play set – “Ponies, Daddy!” 

And then they add a hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste, and some Wet Wipes to the cart, while an increasingly fragrant Anne rejects the shopping cart seat, insisting on waddling along beside it in her drooping diaper. 

Finally, after paying, after cleaning and re-diapering Anne, they get back in car and head back to the hotel. A tired-out Anne grows tearful – she doesn’t want to leave Walmart; she wants the world and nothing at the same time – but Dave wins her over with a promise of lunch. The little girl wrinkles her nose at the thought of Arby’s or Panda Express, but cries out approvingly at the mention of Zaxby’s chicken fingers. 

Back at the hotel, full tummy and then full diaper, Dave lies Anne down on the bed for her nap. She sleeps, her little belly rising and lowering. Because babies know how to breathe. It’s only when kids go to school, it’s only when they learn about the real world, when they learn how to lie, that they forget how to breathe.