Page 49 of Daddy's Pride

“Ideas?”

“Aren’t you a cute couple,” the woman behind the counter says. She’s in her mid-thirties with rainbow hair, dark make-up, and several piercings. “Are you looking for ideas for your wedding? We’ve got lots of supplies over there.”

Harris’s cheeks go bright pink. “Oh, no, we’re not—” He gestures between us.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks pointedly at our joined hands.

“We’re a couple,” I confirm. Even if only for the week.

“But we’re not getting married. We’re looking for Pride decorations. I know it’s not June, but do you have any?”

“Of course. Pride doesn’t have to be confined to one month of the year. In fact, it shouldn’t be. Over there.”

We shuffle in the direction she’s pointing and discover a plethora of Pride-themed decorations, including flags, banners, balloons, stickers, temporary tattoos, bunting, straws, and tablecloths. Not just in the Pride rainbow colors either but in the colors of several of the other flags too.

“Wow,” I say.

“You’ll be able to find everything you need to decorate for your opening weekend here. This multi-flag bunting and the balloons would be perfect for putting up at the entrance and around the course.”

I can’t keep my eyes off Harris and the bright enthusiasm in his eyes. He grins as he speaks, and his actions are animated.

“What?” he asks.

“Just marvelling at how beautiful and wonderful my boy is.” I keep my voice low so only he can hear me.

His cheeks glow, and he waves his hand dismissively. “No more than you, Daddy.”

I kiss his cheek. “Don’t diminish yourself, boy. You’re both those things and more.”

He sucks in a breath. “So are you, Daddy.”

We share a long kiss.

“Help me pick decorations out,” I say.

“Now?”

“Why not? It’ll save me a trip back here in a few months.”

Harris rubs the back of his neck. “You don’t have to listen to my crazy ideas. It’s your business.”

“Your ideas aren’t crazy. They’re amazing. A Pride-themed opening weekend is perfect. Perhaps I can donate all the profits to various charities.”

“That’s a great idea, Daddy.”

We spend the next half an hour selecting decorations to buy. As the owner runs everything through the till, I wince at the cost. She packs the decorations into four large brown paper bags.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re having an opening weekend,” she says.

“Not until June.”

“Well, you can’t be too prepared. Can I ask what you’re opening? I’m intrigued.”

“An activity centre.”

“Which is going to be an inclusive, safe space,” Harris says.

“Do you have fliers? I’d love to share the word,” the woman says.