“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” Miles said to nobody in particular.
Chelsea felt strangely giddy. She caught his hand in hers. “Come on,” she urged. “I’ll take you to try the funnel cake.” She glanced at Silas, “I don’t know what your doctor would say to it, though?”
“Oh, a bite won’t kill me,” he said with a grin. “But don’t tell Melody. And don’t worry, Miles,” he added before his son could object. “Justonebite. I won’t go crazy.”
Maybe it was a sign of how overwhelmed Miles was that he didn’t try to argue with his father. He allowed Chelsea to lead him over to the concession stand, where she ordered a large funnel cake and two colas. She exchanged a few tickets for them.
The drinks came out first, and she handed one to Miles. He took a swig and made a face.
“Oh, come on,” Chelsea chuckled. “I know you’ve hadsodabefore.”
“Of course I have,” he agreed. “But I usually get it with zero sugar. And for that matter, a squeeze of lime. This is…”
She waited.
He paused, then took another drink. “Well, it’s good,” he was forced to admit. “I can see why people drink it. I couldn’t do it every day, though.”
“No, neither could I,” Chelsea said. “I’m definitely going to have a sugar crash later.”
He frowned. “Is it safe for you to have these things?” he asked. “With the baby and everything?”
“Not very much of them, but it’s like your dad said — a little bit isn’t going to do me any harm.” She held up her soda, “That’swhy I got the small. And I probably won’t finish it. But you’re not going to find health food at the fair. That’s just not on the menu.”
“Here’s your funnel cake,” the vendor announced, handing a paper plate out the window.
Chelsea accepted it and held it up to Miles. “Do you want the first bite?”
He stared. “There’s no fork.”
“Just pick off a piece. Go ahead.” He pulled off a tiny piece of the fried dough, popped it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. Chelsea waited.
Miles’s eyes went wide. “Oh, that’sverygood.”
“You see?” She laughed. “Didn’t I tell you it was? Silas? You want some?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Silas grinned, and took a piece for himself. For a moment, the three of them stood around peeling off bites of funnel cake and eating them, licking the powdered sugar from their fingers. All too soon, it was gone.
“So?” Chelsea asked. “You liked that?”
“Okay, yes, I did,” Miles agreed.
“When the baby’s born, you two ought to come here every year,” Silas said, raising his eyebrows. “It could be a family tradition.”
“Is that the real reason you wanted to meet here?” Miles asked his father. “To get us to start a new family tradition?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Chelsea spoke up, as the three of them began to walk between the various stalls. “My mother used to bring me and a friend to the fair every year when I was growingup. That’s how I developed my love of funnel cakes in the first place.”
“And that’s a value you want to pass along to your child, I have no doubt,” Silas said with a smile.
“It would be fun,” Chelsea agreed, though she felt a pang of discomfort. What she and Miles knew, and Silas did not, was that the three of them probably wouldn’t be doing family activities together after the baby was born. There would come a time, fairly early in the child’s life, when they would go their separate ways. Staying in the same house for a few weeks, maybe a few months, following the birth was one thing, but she didn’t want her child to go through the trauma of having his or her family split up. That needed to happen early on, so there would be no memory of it to carry forward.
So, there was no point in planning delightful outings and family traditions. Those things weren’t going to happen. That wouldn’t be a part of their lives. She felt guilty — but she felt something else, too, something she hadn’t anticipated. Grief. What Silas was describing… it sounded nice. She could imagine being here with Miles every year around this time, their child getting older and older. She could imagine watching their baby grow up with this as a part of their life. In ten years, a child running along the grass here, while she and Miles followed along, arms around one another…
Arms around one another?
She shook her head to clear it. Why was that part of the vision? That wasn’t her daydream. She didn’t want his arm around her… did she?
Of course not. I’m just fantasizing about having someone with me. A parenting partner. That could still happen. It’s not as if it’s impossible to conceive of the idea that I might meet a guy someday, and that he might want to be a part of this little family I’ve created.
