I have a confession to make. When I said, I don’t really like getting scared, what I meant was I’m terrified of being scared. It not only frightens the ever-loving shit out of me, but it pisses me off. But at the same time, I actually enjoy going to haunted houses, mainly because the boys have so much fun. Then again, I did stay with my cheating wife for several years after I suspected she was a cheater. So maybe I’m just a masochist.

Last night, I sat the boys down and told them that the divorce was final and let them know that she gave us back the cabin.

They were ecstatic about the cabin but weren’t bothered by the fact that we were divorced. They simply asked if that meant everything was officially done and she couldn’t take them away from me. When I assured them that we were together for good, they smiled and said that’s all they cared about.

I had expected the worst.

And I got the best.

I zip up my black sweatshirt as I make my way up the steps to Christine’s house. It might be the middle of spring, but Michigan nights can still get chilly. And the cold snap we’re going through right now feels more like early fall. Which is probably appropriate for going into the death trap the boys convinced me was a good idea. My nerves are already kicking in, and I wonder if it’s from seeing her, or knowing that in about thirty minutes, I’ll be screaming like a girl in front of her.

My hand is raised, about to knock on her door, when it suddenly opens. A very excited Christine stands on the other side, bouncing on her toes. I can’t help it. My eyes have a mind of their own, and right now they desperately want to take in every inch of her. She’s wearing another pair of skinny jeans, this time light-washed with holes in the knees and cuffed to show a little bit of her lower leg, same white Chucks she wore on our first date, and a maroon shirt under a thin gray zippered hoodie. Damn. Everything she wears makes her even more adorable.

Her dark hair is pulled into a high pony tail, and her bright green eyes meet mine when they finally make it up there from my completely shameless display of checking her out, shining with happiness. It almost makes me feel excited to go get the piss scared out of me. Almost.

“You ready?” she asks, smiling widely.

“As I’ll ever be,” I tell her honestly.

“You’re this big strong man, but a total wuss. I kinda love it,” she tells me, biting her bottom lip.

“You’re such a brat.”

“Watch it. While you’re rocking in the corner tonight like a whiny little girl, I’ll be the one saving your scared ass.”

“One thing very wrong with that.”

“What’s that?”

“No way in hell will I sit down and rock in the corner. I’ll be the one running so fast you’d think I could walk on water.”

She bursts out laughing, and I find myself a relaxing a tiny bit.

“Gotta pee before we go?”

“Nope. Just did. Do you?”

“Peed before I came. This isn’t my first rodeo, darling.”

“So, no pants peeing tonight, huh?”

“Well, the night is young. I make no promises. House locked?”

She turns around and locks the door then puts her keys in her purse. “Sure is!”

“Well then… your chariot awaits.” I throw a hand toward my pickup.

I open the door for her, and she climbs inside. As soon as she’s settled, she immediately turns around to greet the boys. Aidan and Reece invited their friend, Nolan. The three of them have been amped up for hours, ready to get their scare on. My boys, of course, know how much I hate it, so that makes them love it even more.

“Who’s this?” Christine asks as I climb in, obviously already greeting the boys.

“Our friend, Nolan.”

“Hey, Nolan, I’m Christine,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“Hey,” Nolan says with a little low wave. Where my boys are typically pretty outgoing, Nolan can be fairly shy until he gets to know someone. When he’s around just us, he’s crazy, funny, and a goofball. Christine must be making him slightly nervous. “My mom told me to tell you that she loves your coffee shop and your pastries are the best.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet! Tell her thank you for me… and to come in next week for a coffee on the house so I can meet her, okay?”

“’Kay.” He smiles, looking down at his hands.

Aidan stifles laughter and covers his smile with his fist, leaning against the side of the door. If I were in the mood, I would remind him that he was nervous around Christine at first, also. And still has quite the crush on Bri.

“How’d your day go, boys? Get all that yard work done?”

I’m a dad who requires my kids to do chores. I’m mean like that. And Nolan was over all day — they want to be big and strong, so I worked them today. Every time they complained about doing the work, I reminded them how Grady got big. He’ll be playing college ball soon, and he got where he is now from working hard, and not in the gym.

I’m not an awful person, though. I pay them for doing chores, and even Nolan got cash, and of course, tonight I’m taking them to the haunted house then out for supper.

“We did!” they say together, proudly.

They grumbled about it to me most the day. To Christine? They act like they just got done with an afternoon at the trampoline park.

Little punks.

I barely hold back my eye roll, but I see Christine press her lips together to stop from laughing. One side of my mouth quirks into a smile, and I reach over the console and take her hand in mine.

She smiles at me and lays her head back against the seat. I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing the back of it softly before resting our joined hands on my thigh, contentment coursing through me as we drive.

Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You comes on the radio. All three boys shout to turn it up and sing along.

I’ve apparently never really listened to the words of this song, but sitting in my pick up while three teenage boys belt out the lyrics and Christine’s shoulders shaking from her laughter has me listening a little closer. And… yeah. Awkward.

That is, until I see we’re already at the haunted house.

“We’re here!” Christine shouts, pulling her hand away from mine and bouncing around in her seat like a kid heading into a candy store.

“Can’t wait,” I grumble, and she giggles.

“Oh, come on, you big wuss.”

“Wuss? Second time you’ve called me a wuss now.”

She grins and swings her door open. “Come on, boys! Let’s go see if we can’t get your dad to wet himself.”

I groan, and the boys all burst out laughing.

“I kinda love her,” Aidan says to Nolan quietly.

“She seems awesome.”

“So awesome,” Reece agrees.

I smile, despite the fact that I’m walking into hell.

We walk up to the front to pay for our tickets, and I take a moment, standing back to watch as my boys stand on either side of Christine. They’re waiting in line to enter, looking way more excited than I am about what’s about to go down. Not that it takes much.

She wraps her arm around Aidan’s neck when he says something that I don’t hear, but it must have been full of smart ass because she’s rubbing the top of his head and he’s trying to pull out of her grasp, but they’re all laughing.

“And you—” Christine points to Reece who’s still laughing. “You’re just as bad, you little turd.”

“Me?” Reece puts his hand to his chest and pulls his innocent face. The face that’s gotten him out of many punishments.

“Yes, you. It’s always the quiet ones to look out for.”

He grins up at her, and I step forward, placing my hand on the small of Christine’s back. The line moves forward slowly. I’m quiet as we watch the three boys chat and horse around while we wait.

“You’re quiet.”

I grunt in response.

“Excited?”

I look down at her, her eyes full of mischief. She winks, and I roll my eyes.

“Oh, come on, sourpuss. It’ll be fun.” She pokes me in the ribs then tickles my side. I jerk a little bit and I feel my lip quirk. “It won’t be so bad,” she says, laughter filling her voice.

I raise an eyebrow at her and she returns it. She redoes her pony tail and then slides her arms around my waist, looking up at me as her thumbs hook in my back pockets. I wrap mine around her and lean down, kissing her lightly on the nose.

We haven’t been overly affectionate in front of the boys yet, a kiss here or there, but they know what’s happening. They get that she’s not just someone their dad’s dating — but someone who’s going to be around a while. And, from what they’ve told me when we discussed things progressing further with Christine, they approve. They like Christine and love having her around. I think they like her more than they like me most days.

“You’ll protect me?” I half tease.

“I’ll protect my man, scout’s honor.”

“I’m your man, huh?”

“Damn skippy.”

“I’m on board with that.” I nuzzle my nose in her neck, inhaling her incredible scent. She always smells a bit like vanilla and sugar. It’s intoxicating, and I know I’ll never be able to get enough of it. I groan, not being able to control myself, letting my tongue sneak out, getting a taste, too. I hear her breath catch, and I place my lips on her neck, kissing and sucking with just a small amount of pressure.

“Dad!” My head jerks up to see the boys smiling over at me. From their point of view, it probably (and hopefully) looked like I was just resting my head on her shoulder while I gave her a hug. I don’t need the boys to know, or see, that I was just perving on my girlfriend.

“Yeah?”

“We’re up.” Reece nods his head toward the line, indicating that it’s our turn.

Yaa-aa-yyy.

* * *

“Stop! No! What was it?”

I twist around, hitting at the offending object.

“Andy! Relax. It was just the plastic curtain at the entrance.” Christine is laughing at me already, not even trying to hide it.

“Okay, okay. Yeah. You’re right. I’m just a little on edge.”

“You think? Mr. Simpson, you need to chill man,” Nolan tells me. The three boys walk ahead, and a surge of panic roars through me.

“No! Don’t go in! Not without me!”

All three boys give me a look. “Dad. I think we can handle it. Probably better than you.”

Okay. That hurt.

Might have been truth but…

“I can protect you!”

“Right,” the boys say at the same time, shaking their heads at me and venturing farther into the haunted house while I’m still standing by the entrance.

“You ready?”

“Let’s just get this crap over with. You owe me a lemon pound cake all my own after this.”

“Whatever you say, honey.” She pats me on the shoulder as I gently push her in front of me.

“So, I guess all Andys are scared of haunted houses?”

“What?”

“You know… that producer Andy. Watch the videos on YouTube sometime of him going through haunted houses. You’ll pee yourself laughing.”

“I don’t pee myself laughing.”

“Just when you get scared, huh?”

“Yeah. Wait. No! I don’t pee myself! Can we just move forward? Who knows how far the boys are into this thing, and they’re probably huddled up with some zombie right now, plotting something against me.”

“Paranoid much?”

“No. I know my boys. They’re not little angels.”

“Wonder where they get it from?”

“Are you guys going to go through this thing or what?” I turn around and see a group of annoyed teenagers standing behind me.

“Whatever.” I struggle to resist the urge to flip off the teenagers, not my proudest moment, and grab hold of the back of Christine’s shirt as we move ahead.

I hear a noise to my left and jump almost a foot in the air, gasping and screaming but keep walking.

Everyone knows you don’t stop moving through a haunted house.

That’s when they get you.

When they smell your fear.

We make it about four steps when I feel something grab my ankles. “It’s got me! Christine! It’s got me!” My feet do a dance that would rival an Irish dancer’s.

I dance my way out of Christine’s arms and my back hits the chest of… something. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s awfully handsy and the noises it’s emitting are far from comforting. I bolt out of its grasp and run ahead to Christine a few feet. She’s watching me with amusement on her face, but lets her guard down just enough for one of the horrific zombies to attack her, coming out from behind a curtain.

My eyes widen, and I grab her hand and take off. “Run! It’s coming! Lord have mercy on us!” I’m screaming and yelling, fearful of this staged character getting to my girl.

We keep moving forward and every few steps, something either jumps out at us or grabs us from below.

“No!” I yell at one, pointing my finger at it as it tries walking toward me, blood and disgusting goo dripping from its face, but it doesn’t stop grasping for us.

“No means no, dammit! Didn’t you learn that when you were a kid?”

As I’m berating the haunted house employee for having bad manners, a small girl dressed to look like a ghost of some sort, emerges from behind a curtain. The small thing opens its mouth and starts turning its head.

All.

The.

Way.

Around.

“What the hell is that?” Christine yells, a tremor in her voice that does nothing for my own state of fear. That’s a lie. It definitely heightens my fear.

“I’m not scared. I’m not scared. I’m not scared. I’m not scared.”

“I’m frickin’ scared! I’ll admit it!” Christine shouts then screams as something comes at her with what I hope is a fake knife, then plunges at her feet and crawls toward her.

“I’m not gonna pee myself. I’m not gonna pee myself. I’m not gonna frickin’ pee myself!” I shout.

“Where are the boys? Are they okay?”

“It’s every man for himself, Christine. They lost the right to have us save them when they left us behind. Just keep going,” I tell her, taking deep breaths and gingerly stepping around another corner, trying to keep my back against the wall.

I peek around once quickly, jerking back. I don’t see anything, so I take a step, only to have a mummy of some sort try to attack me. “Ahhh! Stop! Stop! No. You’re not real. You’re not real.”

“Andy? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“It’s not real.” I keep repeating it, my eyes squeezed shut. She grabs hold of my arm, making me scream loudly again and jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding so hard, it feels like it could explode from my chest. I place my hand over my heart then feel for a pulse.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Dramatic, much?”

I stop and look her in the eye. “I almost died, Christine.”

She scoffs then we step around another corner, moving some hanging bodies out of the way because, you know, that’s normal. As soon as I’m clear of the bodies, another one falls from the ceiling, right in front of us. I fall to the ground, taking Christine with me, and start army crawling away.

“Hurry! Hurry! Just keep going! We got this. I promise. We can do this. Just keep going.”

We step into a room that looks oddly normal, which of course makes me on edge. I have my arms around her, making it darn near impossible to walk, my legs on either side of hers, but I won’t let go.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re fine! Did you hear that?” I shout. “We’re not scared! We know you’re not real!”

And even though I knew something was going to happen in the completely normal bedroom, I didn’t expect a herd of zombie clowns to come tearing through the walls.

“Ahhh! Lord help us! No! Mother of shiiiiiit! Help!”

“Andy! Run!”

I take off sprinting, pulling Christine along with me.

“My heart! I can’t!” Christine’s panting, and it gives me an oddly satisfied feeling to know that she’s as terrified as I am, given the fact that she was so sure of herself just moments ago.

“I thought you just love haunted houses? Not so tough now, are you?”

“I do love them! The getting scared part is the best! I never said I didn’t get scared while going through them!”

She barely gets the words out when another bloody zombie (never watching The Walking Dead again, thank you very much) comes at us, jumping into our path before lunging in our direction.

We both screech and jump away, her back slams into my front, and I wrap my arms around her. I would like to say it’s because I’m trying to protect her, but really, it’s just to keep it away from me.

“We’re fine. We’re okay. We’re almost there.” She’s trying to assure both of us. “Did you pee? I haven’t peed. I didn’t pee my pants.”

We are almost there. Which means something scary as hell is about to happen.

We come to an opening that looks like we’re at the end…

“Baaahhhh!!!!”

Something hits us both from behind, and Christine and I crouch down and swing with our arms at whatever is screaming at us and about to attack us, eat our brains and leave us for dead.

Clearly, we haven’t been watching too much TWD or something.

Then we hear the telltale signs of three little shits laughing at us.