Kaleb smirked. ‘Because it’sright up his alley.’
‘That’s my joke!’ Sam put his hands on his hips.
‘You’re rubbing off on me.’ Kaleb nudged him.
‘It’s a slippery slope.’ Clara gave him a commiserating look. ‘Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing his clothes.’
‘I already am.’ Kaleb pulled up his trouser leg at the ankle. ‘These are his socks. I couldn’t find any of mine.’
Sam took his turn, looking annoyingly good as he hammered the ball dead centre. Clara was determined to make her next one count. No way was he beating her that easily. She launched her next ball with full strength, taking out all but one pin on the first go.
‘Not bad.’ Sam rubbed his hands together and nodded.
‘Girl’s got the range,’ she whispered to Sam after hitting the loose pin on her second go, remembering what they’d been doing the last time he’d said that to her.
He flicked her the briefest wink. ‘Not half.’
The game carried on, filled with more bad jokes, lots of laughs, and the occasional strike that earned over-the-top celebrations. By the end, Clara couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much in one afternoon.
‘You’ve actually done pretty well for someone who hasn’t bowled for ten years.’ Sam eyed the scoreboard.
‘I couldn’t have the boys running away with all the spoils. Especially you.’ She prodded him.
‘I’m used to losing.’ He threw her a look.
‘You lose on purpose, don’t you?’
He gave a little shrug. ‘It’s good for their confidence.’
Clara glanced up at him. He was watching the boys with an expression she couldn’t quite read. When he turned to her, he smiled, and warmth settled deep in her chest, along with that deep-rooted sense of being completely and utterly safe.
‘Shall we head out for some lunch?’ he said. ‘I’ve got tennis rackets in the back of the car. We could knock a ball about after.’
‘Haven’t we bashed enough balls this morning?’ Kaleb made an over-exaggerated wincing movement.
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry,’ he said to Clara. ‘This is hashtag life-with-boys, I’m afraid.’
‘But you are one, Dad.’ Jacob gave him a look, his little nose scrunched up in a very cute way.
‘I think I graduated from boy to man some time ago.’
‘Or he likes to think so,’ Kaleb added.
‘Oh, ha-ha.’ Sam threw him an unimpressed look.
‘You lot are hilarious.’ Clara clapped Sam on the back as they headed out into the sunshine.
‘Aren’t we just?’
Near the bowling alley was a small park, and it had a good wide open grassy space for a picnic. Sam tossed the tartanblanket out and let it float down. They all sat on it, and Sam unpacked the picnic bag.
‘Ok, I made some sandwiches, and we’ve got raspberries, strawberries, and drinks.’ He placed some containers on the blanket as he spoke. ‘No dates,’ he said aside to Clara, ‘fake or otherwise.’
‘What did you say was fake?’ Kaleb asked.
‘Um… Just wondering what you call a fake noodle.’
‘Eh? What do you call a fake noodle?’ Kaleb pulled a face like he didn’t have a clue what Sam was on about, and Clara wasn’t sure either.
