The three of us entered the building, and Tate went straight to the counter to purchase our tickets.
Once we were admitted, Nicholas ran ahead. He looked all around, instantly transfixed by the space-like lighting and tanks filled with colorful aquatic species.
Tate and I sped up to keep close to him.
“Is this his first time at an aquarium?” Tate asked.
“Second,” I said. “But we haven’t been since he was two. I’m sure he barely remembers.”
After perusing various displays, Nicholas stopped at a special tank where kids could stick their hands in the water and touch living things. The attendant was really sweet with him, guiding his fingers while Tate and I looked on.
At one point, while we were walking, Nicholas reached for Tate’s hand. My eyes widened as Tate looked over at me and smiled. They walked together over to another tank, where Tate knelt to meet Nicholas closer to eye level.
I stood back, watching as Tate rested his arm gently on Nicholas’s back while he pointed out various fish. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I took it all in, feeling grateful. Despite the difficulties that lay ahead, there was no greater gift I could give Nicholas than a relationship with his dad.
After a minute, they came back over to where I was standing. Tate looked confused. “I asked him if he wanted to go see the sharks, but he said no?”
I chuckled. “He’s scared of sharks, but he does want to see them. He just wants assurance that they can’t get him. He’s afraid one of them will jump out somehow.”
Tate smiled down at him. “Aw, buddy. You don’t have to be scared here. They can’t get you through the glass.” He knelt. “How about this… I promise to protect you. Will you go see them with me?”
After some hesitancy, Nicholas finally nodded. My son seemed to trust Tate, even if he didn’t know his damn name.
When we arrived at the shark tank, Nicholas was shaking a little. Tate lifted him, holding him tightly as they watched the sharks swim by. Minute by minute, Nicholas seemed to relax, with his little arm wrapped around Tate’s neck. He even leaned forward to touch the glass, which was pretty brave. My heart nearly burst as I witnessed their bond growing.
Tate put Nicholas down and they walked toward me, hand in hand. “Where to next?” Tate asked.
“We still haven’t seen the jellyfish,” I suggested.
Tate smirked. “Jellyfish, you say?” Once Nicholas looked away, he leaned close and added, “Should I be prepared to pee on something?”
The contact of his breath put my body on alert.
“Not this time,” I told him.
He winked.
It was a brief acknowledgement of where we’d come from. Yet even as we stood here with the product of that time, those days seemed a world away.
We walked together and stopped at the final exhibit, featuring the infamous jellyfish. Per Nicholas’s request, Tate lifted him again so he could see better.
But when I looked over, I found Tate not studying the jellyfish, but staring at me. Rather than look away, he offered a smile. I wondered what he was thinking, if any of the feelings he’d had for me in the past had risen to the surface today. I’d battled my own feelings every moment of this aquarium trip.
Nicholas yawned, which was my cue that he’d had enough.
On our way out, one of the workers stopped us as we passed a photo booth with an oceanic backdrop. “Would you guys like a family picture?”
A family picture. That made my heart hurt.
“No.” I shook my head before Tate could say anything.
He seemed disappointed, but as much as I’d enjoyed this outing, I wasn’t sure I could handle a photo of us as a family. We might never actually be that. And anyway, where would I put it? Not like I could display it at home.
Tate walked us to our car and took the lead in getting Nicholas situated in his car seat. He gave him a big hug. “Thanks for a fun time, buddy.”
After he closed the door, he joined me outside the driver’s door.
“And thankyoufor today,” he said. “For letting me share this experience. It might be the first aquarium trip he’ll remember, and he’ll know I was here.”
