CAPTIVATING

Three Weeks LaterJune 19th; 2024Taylor Swift's Point of ViewThe clatter of the knife hitting the cutting board blends with Travis' voice coming through the phone propped precariously against the oil canister. Across the room, the glow of the TV flickers as Joy giggles at some cartoon antics.

A comfortable silence settles between Travis and me for a moment, broken only by the rhythmic chopping of the vegetables. It's these in-between moments that feel most precious. Here I am, mid-dinner prep, and yet, it feels like we could talk for hours.

These past couple weeks with Travis have been a revelation. He's a breath of fresh air after being stuck in the same routine for so long.  The way we met might have been strange, but honestly, at this point, I don't even care. There's a connection, a spark, and that's all that matters.

The problem is, we're both swamped. Scheduling a proper catch-up feels like wrangling cats. But I make the effort. Because for the first time in a while, I'm realizing how much I rely on Joy for social interaction. It's great, don't get me wrong, but maybe, just maybe, it's time to expand my social circle beyond a four year old. To build new friendships, like this one with Travis.

Travis's voice cuts through the phone speaker, shattering the peaceful rhythm of chopping. "Alright," he announces, a hint of challenge in his tone, "would you rather be married to your career or your soulmate?"

I quirk an eyebrow, momentarily distracted from dicing the onions. "Hmm," I drawl, buying myself some time. "Honestly? Men tend to complicate things," I finally say with a pointed look at the phone. "Career it is. Low maintenance, you know?" I add with a wink, hoping it translates through the speaker. "What about you?"

"Ugh, no way!" Travis groans playfully. "Give me the fireworks any day! I want to find that girl who makes my chest feel like a rave!" He lets out a dramatic sigh, clearly picturing this mythical soulmate.

I can't help but chuckle. "Well, guess I'm just not that romantic then, huh?" I tease, a smile tugging at my lips.

Just then, Travis throws another curveball. "Alright, new question!" he declares. "Would you rather have knives or dildos as fingers?"

My laughter explodes, sputtering out between shocked giggles. "Neither! Travis!" I exclaim, wiping a stray tear from my eye. "Seriously, what is wrong with you today?!" Despite myself, a grin spreads across my face. This guy, with his wild questions and goofy energy, is definitely keeping things interesting.

"Knives, definitely," Travis replies, a smug note entering his voice. "Imagine the fear factor on the football field!"

Shaking my head with a laugh, I roll my eyes. "For pure practicality, though," I counter, dragging out the word for emphasis, "I'll take the...dildos, I guess."

The laughter bubbles up again, and I can't help but add a playful eye roll for good measure. "Wait, what?" Travis sputters, clearly confused. "How is that even practical?"

I shrug, the humor dancing in my voice. "Well, at least I wouldn't be stabbing or breaking anything, right? Plus, gloves are always an option." A mischievous glint enters my eye. "Besides, who says a little pleasure can't be practical?"

Travis lets out a comical sound with a smirk practically dripping through the screen. "Alright, nah," he concedes, amusement lacing his voice. I can't help but let out a relieved chuckle, the playful tension dissipating slightly. The conversation has definitely taken a...unique turn.

Taking a deep breath, I decide to shift gears. "So," I begin, choosing my words carefully, "we've been talking for a couple now, and it's been...great. But, well," I hedge, a touch of shyness creeping into my voice, "we haven't actually met in person yet."

A beat of surprised silence hangs in the air. "What are you suggesting?" Travis finally asks, his tone curious.

Mustering my courage, I blurt out, "I'd love to meet you in person, Travis. Like, actually see you, not just a phone screen."

There's another pause, and for a moment, I worry I might have overstepped. Then, a laugh erupts from the phone. "Moving quickly with this friendship, Miss Swift, aren't we?" he teases, the amusement evident.

A blush creeps up my neck, but I hold my ground. "So," I press, a hopeful note in my voice, "what do you say?"

"About meeting up? Absolutely," he replies, the smile practically radiating through the phone. "The 25th works for me. I can clear my schedule."

"Perfect!" I exclaim, relief washing over me. "I actually have a show in Europe coming up, but I could swing by Kansas City before then."

A surprised chuckle escapes Travis. "Uh, yeah," he stammers, then recovers with a smoother, "that sounds good. No problem at all."

"So," I say, a playful smile on my lips, "consider this a date. Our first official face-to-face meeting."

"A date, huh?" he repeats, the grin practically audible. "Well then, Miss Swift, I'll make sure to take you somewhere truly special."

The mock seriousness in his voice sends another shiver down my spine, a delicious mix of excitement and nervousness. "Alright," I manage with a laugh, "now I'm starting to get scared. What exactly are you planning?"

The conversation takes on a new electricity as we banter back and forth, the prospect of our upcoming meeting hanging heavy in the air.Suddenly, a loud clang from the living room cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"Oh no." I groan, momentarily forgetting Travis on the phone.  "Sounds like Joy knocked over something."

"Need to go be a supermom?" Travis asks with a chuckle, the playful tension easing slightly.

"Sadly, yes," I confirm, grabbing a dishtowel to wipe my hands.  "Duty calls."

"Hey," Travis says before I can hang up, his voice turning serious.  "The 25th sounds great. I'm really looking forward to meeting you, Miss Swift."

The formality sends a jolt through me.  "Likewise, Mr. Kelce," I reply, a sly smile playing on my lips.  "Just try not to scare me off with your hidden agenda, alright?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replies, his voice warm. "We'll just have to wait and see what kind of trouble we get into then, won't we?"

The last sentence hangs in the air, loaded with unspoken possibilities. With a final goodbye, I hang up the phone, my heart pounding a little faster than usual.

Peeking into the living room, a crimson puddle is spreading like an unwelcome visitor. In the center of the disaster zone sits Joy, clutching a damp, purple unicorn plushie that is no match for the overflowing juice box. Her lower lip trembles, threatening to unleash a torrent of tears.

"Oh, honey," I say, rushing over and scooping her into a hug. The scent of grape juice mingles with the familiar sweetness of her hair. "Don't cry, sweetheart. It was just an accident." Soothing words tumbles from my lips, a balm for the impending meltdown.

Gently, I pry the soggy unicorn from her grasp, knowing a trip to the washing machine is in its future. Placing it on the counter, I grab a wad of paper towels and kneel beside Joy. "Let's clean up this little spill together. What do you say?" I suggest, my voice laced with forced cheer.

A flicker of hope replaces the tremor in her lower lip. The idea of fixing the mess, of taking control of the situation, seems to spark a tiny flame of determination within her. "Yes!" she chirps, accepting a crumpled paper towel with a small but determined smile.

"You're doing a great job," I praise, watching as her focus shifts from the brink of tears to the task at hand. The sniffles subside, replaced by the quiet rustle of paper towels and the occasional satisfied grunt as a particularly juicy spot is absorbed.

By the time the last traces of the rogue juice are vanquished, Joy beams with pride. The floor is juice free, and a sense of accomplishment hangs heavy in the air.

"See, Mommy?" Joy declares, puffing out her chest with newfound confidence. "We cleaned it all up!"

I beam, patting Joy's head with a gentle "Yes we did! Way to go, baby girl!" Her accomplishment deserves a celebration. But the moment's warmth fades as she inquires, "Mommy, who were you talking to?"

Shame pricks at me. Why the sudden urge to lie? "Uh, just someone Mommy works with," I mumble, the lie catching in my throat. Joy's trusting "Oh, okay," makes it worse. She skips back to the living room, leaving me glued to the spot, torn between finishing dinner and the weight of this unnecessary fib. I decide to shove the guilt and resume dinner.

The rhythmic chop-chop of the knife against the cutting board fills the kitchen, a counterpoint to the gurgling hiss of the rice on the stove. Just a couple more minutes, I think, glancing at the clock. Tonight's dinner is chicken fried rice, Joy's favorite. It's a little tradition of ours, a warm hug in a bowl on nights that need a bit of extra comfort – like tonight, I guess.

The guilt I'd been shoving down resurfaces, a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Briefly, I close my eyes, picturing Joy's confused frown when I tell her my little white lie. Pushing it aside again, I finish chopping the last of the vegetables, the vibrant colors a welcome distraction.

With a satisfied sigh, I scoop the rice into a serving bowl, its steam rising like a secret I can't keep. As I set the table, placing our mismatched plates and bright yellow napkins, a small hand slips into mine. Joy, her eyes sparkling with mischief, pulls me towards our chairs.

"I have a question for you Joy to the World." I say and take a small bite.

"Okay!" She smiles looking up at me.

My throat tightens. "Well," I begin, "I have a... special trip coming up. To a place called Kansas City."

"Kan-sas Ci-ty?" she repeats slowly, her brow furrowed in concentration.

I force a smile. "Not quite, sweetie. It's a... well, it's a big place with lots of things to see! But I'll only be gone for one sleep!"

The light in her eyes dims a little. "Can I come see the things?" she asks, her voice small.

"Oh, honey," I say, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "It would be kinda loud there. Grown-up stuff, you know? It's just a business trip but you'll have the best time with Nana in Rhode Island! You can play with Kitty and bake yummy cookies, just like you always love!"

A pout forms on her lips, but then she cracks a grin. "Juice box messes?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Exactly," I reply, mirroring her smile, the guilt gnawing at me a little more. "Who's going to clean up all the juice box spills?"

Joy throws her head back and giggles, a sound like wind chimes. "Okay, okay," she concedes, holding up one hand with all four fingers spread. "One sleep. But you pinky promise you'll come back and have tea time with me?"

"Pinky promise," I say, pulling her into a hug, my heart heavy. "Tea time it is. Now, how about we eat this mountain of yummy rice before it gets cold?"

We devour the chicken fried rice, the chatter of the spoon against the bowl the only sound for a while. Joy, thankfully, seemed more focused on stuffing her face with colorful vegetables than dwelling on my trip. But as I watch her, a tear wells up in my eye. This trip, this lie, it isn't just about me. It's about keeping her safe, keeping her from a truth she is far too young to understand. Or am I just being overprotective?

—————Author's Note:

My cat is on my chest purring and it's so cute omg uwuwuwuwwuwuwuwu he's so BBY.

Anyways, Travis and Taylor as friends is funny because they don't act like friends 💀