There would be a country band playing in the gazebo and mouthwatering food for sale. Booths offered all the games he loved and was good at.
When he was a kid he’d kept the prizes for himself. When he got older he’d given them away, mostly to girls.
Surrounded by a posse of family and friends, cash stuffed in his pockets, he’d always joined the noisy crowd with eager anticipation.
This time, he had Monty’s comments rolling around in his head, adding a new layer of anticipation to the festivities.
He wanted to clarify the situation with Jordan, ASAP. He wouldn’t be able to relax and enjoy the rest of the day until he knew where he stood.
They’d been gone almost two hours, though, so the dunking booth had to come first. It was easy to spot because it had the longest line and biggest crowd of onlookers. He and his brothers headed in that direction.
Off to his left he spotted a group of women wearing H&H T-shirts and caps. His chest tightened. Jordan would be in that group. He forced himself to look away, not wanting to spot her. Not yet.
Monty located the end of the line and they chose to go youngest to oldest — Rio first and Luis last. As he took his place behind Zay and gazed at Adam perched in the dunking booth, the idea of getting dunked in cold water sounded like a good one. It might be the only way to cool his jets regarding Jordan.
Besides, the sun was hot today. It would feel good. Adam also had Tracy there handing out the softballs and keeping him company.
Adam had switched to bathing trunks and an old straw hat of their dad’s that was now completely waterlogged. Laughing and cracking jokes, he looked happy, just like their dad had been when he’d done it.
Monty sucked in a breath. “Damn. If you squint a little, that could be Dad up there.”
“Yeah.” Zay sounded subdued. “I guess it’s the hat. I didn’t know it was still around.”
“It’s not just the hat,” Rio said. “It’s his laugh, the way he tilts his head. I don’t know if I can dunk him.”
“You gotta, little brother.” Monty squeezed his shoulder. “We’re doing this just like we used to.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
“What if we do it blindfolded?” Luis glanced at his brothers. “Remember? We tried that one year.”
“And you were the only one who hit the target, Mr. All-State Pitcher.” Zay shook his head. “No blindfold for me, but you go right ahead.”
“Believe I will.” It would add an element of challenge to the event and provide a distraction until he could talk to Jordan.
The line moved fast because the folks ahead of them all had lousy aim. Adam began to dry off. Then Rio stepped up,
Adam grinned. “Remember what we talked about, little brother.”
“Nice hat, Adam. Too bad it’s gonna get wet.” Rio sounded like his old self, but his first throw went wide.
“Excellent!” Adam called out. “Two more, just like that!”
“You wish!” Rio hit the target dead center and Adam tumbled into the water.
Monty and Zay only needed one throw each. Adam’s hat was so soggy the brim almost covered his face.
“Hey, there, Luis.” Adam took off the hat and squeezed out some of the water. “Take it easy on me, okay?”
That brought a lump to his throat. Consciously or unconsciously, Adam had repeated the words their dad used to say every year because he had the best arm in the family.
“Which is why I’m giving myself a handicap, hermano.” While studying the position of the target, he pulled a blue bandana from his hip pocket, folded it and tied it behind his head.
“Way to even the odds, Luis!” called someone from the crowd of onlookers.
Belatedly he realized his bandana stunt would draw attention. Not his goal. Too late, now. He palmed the softball Tracy handed him.
Although it was larger than the baseball he’d spent years hurling across the plate, that didn’t affect his method. He’d nurtured his ability to visualize the throw in advance. Then he let instinct take over.
