“Want it lowered to the child height?” he asked.
Frankie tossed the ball up and caught it, smiling sweetly. “Save your pity, Foster. I’ve been hitting jerks my whole life.”
She missed her first shot, earning a chorus of groans.
Nolan chuckled, only fueling Frankie more.
She rolled her shoulders, then shook out her arms. “I forgot to adjust for the size of your ego.”
Her next throw hit the mark, and Nolan plunged into the water. The crowd went wild, clapping and cheering as Frankie blew kisses and posed for photos.
Nolan climbed back up, dripping but still smirking, readjusting his sunglasses. “That all you’ve got? Grandma Olive throws harder.”
Olive, who was collecting money for the dunk tank, turned to Frankie. “Soak him, dear. You get an extra throw for free.”
She held out two more balls to my friend.
“I’m just getting started.” Frankie wound up and hit the target square on. “Consider this community service.” As Nolan went down, she yelled, “The badge doesn’t make you waterproof.”
He stood up and shook his hair out like a guy in a cologne commercial. “Still not afraid of you, Dunne.”
“You should be,” she hissed. “I’ve got a pocketful of dollar bills and a heart full of rage.”
The second he was settled on the platform, she hit the target again, sending him plunging in for a third time.
While the crowd was laughing and taking photos, the two of them glared at each other, tension sparking between them. Whatever history they shared, it was a hell of a lot more than just gossip.
Eventually, Jasper and I met up with his family and stuffed ourselves with junk food. I’d been attending town festivals since I moved to Maplewood, since as a citizen, it was required, but I’d never had quite this much fun. And I’d never chatted with so many people or stayed for so long. I’d been content here for two years, but only now did I really feel like I belonged.
Vincent loved the carousel, and I snapped photos of him in Jasper’s arms. They were sitting atop a sparkly pink horse, in one of the fancy seats, and my sweet boy was smiling with his cousins.
In the last four months, I’d taken an embarrassing number of photos. I had basically become a paparazzo.
After the carousel, we sat at the back of the audience, watching the pie eating competition while I fed Vincent. He conked out in his stroller immediately after, and we wandered toward the gazebo, where the live music was set up.
As we listened, Jasper tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear and moved in close.
“He’s got your smile,” he said. “I’ve thought it for a while, but these seven hundred photos confirm it.”
“Poor kid,” I replied.
With a shake of his head, he kissed me, then draped his arm around my shoulder. While we watched the band, I waved to Callie, who was standing with Josh and Jess, scanning the crowd, probably looking for her twins, who very well could have run off and hijacked a parade float by now.
It hit me then, how many of my friends were here. How this place had really become my home.
And I was happy. Ridiculously so. The kind of happy that puts down roots in a person’s bones and blossoms.
With Jasper at my side, our baby asleep in his stroller in front of me, and a mild evening summer breeze wafting over us, I was at peace.
My mind wandered, so between that and the noise of the band, I didn’t hear the sirens or notice the uniformed officers walking across the green until Chief Nolan Foster strode toward us in a clean, dry uniform, his hand on his gun at his hip and wearing a grim look on his face.
My breath caught and my mind whirled with confusion as he stopped in front of Louisa, who was standing with Marigold Shaw and Bitsy Bramble, a cloth tote bursting at the seams with purchases hanging from her arm.
From here, I couldn’t make out his words or see what was printed on the paper he showed her, but the way she stiffened was obvious.
Once I confirmed that Jasper had a hand on Vincent’s stroller, I strode toward them, my heart rate picking up.
“Nolan,” she said, her tone sharp, “this is an overreach.”
