"There's a ring toss near the north end. Janet's running it." A pause. "She's been asking about a demonstration. Are you two up for it?"
I look at Bo. He looks at me.
"Can you ring toss?" I ask.
Bo looks at me in disbelief. "Can I ring toss? Of course, I can ring toss," he scoffs.
Janet has set up the ring toss right next to the bow-and-arrow game, which, knowing Janet, is not a coincidence, and waves us over.
“Oh, wonderful. Mrs. Winslow found you two. Can you watch the booth for a second? I needto find Cassie and Millie. They were supposed to relieve me half an hour ago." She shoves the rings in Bo’s hands. “Here, show her how it's done," she says, leaving the table to us.
The prizes are stuffed animals on a rack behind the bottles, bears and rabbits, and an enormous moose that must be three feet tall and has no practical purpose whatsoever, unless you want to curl up with it and a good book while the rain hammers outside the window. Bo looks at the bottles, then looks at the rings.
He tosses the first one. “Easy,” he huffs. It drops over the bottle without even rattling.
"Lucky," I say.
“Ha, luck has nothing to do with it.” He picks up the second ring.
He tosses it. Same thing.
I press my lips together.
He turns to me, holding the third ring, and his eyes hold mischief.
"Pick one," he says.
"What?"
He nods at the prize rack. "Pick something. I'll get it for you."
"It's ring toss."
"Pick one, Falon."
I look at the rack for exactly two seconds. "The small bear. The brown one, second row."
He faces forward and tosses the third ring. It spins a little wide, catches the bottle, rattles, and drops.
Just as Bo lifts the little brown bear off the rack and holds it out, Janet comes around the corner with Cassie and three of her science kids; her hands fly to her mouth.
“Your bear, my kind lady.” Bo bows.
"Oh, my kind sir, thou hast stolen my heart,” I say,curtsying and in the most dramatic Shakespearean voice I could muster.
"You're most welcome, my fair lady," he says, mimicking me, and the two of us burst out laughing as Cassie and Janet swoon from the corner.
“Thank you, you two.” Janet’s cheeks are pink, and Cassie winks at me. The three science kids give each other knowing looks.
Janet takes the booth back over, and as Bo and I walk away, I can hear Cassie and her whispering about how cute we look, and how it’s about time. I pretend not to hear, but Bo pulls me closer.
“She’s right, you know, it’s about time I get to kiss you anytime I want.” And with that, he leans down and kisses me on the top of the head, and my heart melts.
Sue, Mason’s aunt, is running the craft auction table near the gazebo, and she waves me over before I'm even close enough to read the table signs. She's in her element, clipboard in one hand, crocheted sample in the other, reading glasses perched on her nose.
"Tell me this doesn't belong in your farmhouse kitchen," she says.
It does. It absolutely does, and she knows it, because Sue has been in everyone's home and knows what belongs where.
