He sat up.
“It’s more fun coming with someone. I didn’t have anyone to come with before. Not since Alice.”
“No one?”
“No one I wanted to risk gossip enough to bring.”
“Is there some rite of passage I don’t know about coming here with you?”
“If you were staying, there’d be speculation about our relationship. Bringing someone to the county fair is a pretty strong indication you’re involved or thinking about it.”
“But not with me?”
“No. You don’t live here.”
If she did, would he have brought her? If she lived here, he’d have to rethink the entire situation.
But he knew better than to get involved with someone who liked the bright lights and big city. Alice hadn’t stayed. He hadn’t enough to offer her and she’d told him so in no uncertain terms. There was no reason to think Angelica could ever fit in.
But for today he could pretend. The idea surprised him. The longer he considered it the more he thought, why not? He’d show her around, explain everything to her and enjoy her enthusiasm for the fair.
He hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Alice. He was careful not to give the wrong impression to anyone. Or was he guarding his heart against the pain of loss? He wouldn’t think about that today.
“Come on, let’s hit the carnival section and ride the Ferris wheel,” he said, standing and offering his hand again.
A day for just the two of them. Making memories.
As the afternoon progressed, Kirk did his best to give her the best fair experience she’d ever have. And she loved every moment. Laughter was the key word for the day. He hadn’t had such fun since before he could remember. During times waiting in line for a ride they talked a bit about their childhoods. So different it was educational in one sense. He still thought she had lacked the carefree days of childhood. And twice she had wistfully told him how lucky he’d been.
When they passed the pitching concession, he offered to try to win her a teddy bear.
“You’re kidding?” she said, looking around him to see the stand. Three metal milk bottles stacked pyramid style sat on the back board. A direct hit in only one area would knock all three flying—qualifying for a bear.
He bought some balls. Several other couples stopped to watch, while Angelica stood a few feet away, so not to crowd him. He threw the first ball which clipped the top bottle. But it only swayed, staying on the other two. His next ball missed completely and everyone laughed. The third ball hit the bottle on the bottom left. Again the bottles swayed, but remained upright.
“I’ll take another set of balls,” he said.
Now it was getting to crunch time. Several good-natured teasing comments were called. A guy he knew from Bryceville called an insult to his pitching ability—or apparent lack thereof.
“Don’t listen to them,” Angelica said. “You can do it.”
He’d done it before for Alice. He wanted to do it today for Angelica. He threw it for all he was worth. It missed completely. He looked at her and the faith showing in her gaze touched him as nothing had in a long while. She didn’t know him, didn’t know what he could do, but he could read her confidence in him as if it had been tattooed on her forehead.
He threw the ball and the trio of bottles exploded apart, flying around the concession booth.
“Woohoo!” Angelica said, rushing over to throw her arms around him. “You did it! I knew you could.”
The crowd clapped and began drifting away. Kirk’s friend called congratulations before moving on.
“Whoa, man, when you connect, you do it in style,” the concessioner said, looking at Angelica. “So what color bear do you want?” he asked.
“Pink, please, to match my hat,” she said looking over her shoulder.
Kirk liked the feel of her in his arms. Giving her a hug, he slowly released her so she could take the big pink teddy bear. Grinning, she looked at him.
“Thank you, no one has ever won a teddy bear for me before.”
“My pleasure.”
