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I seriously considered choking him. Just until he lost consciousness. Drastic measures sometimes called for attempted manslaughter.

“Forty dollars,” he announced. “My girl spent forty dollars trying to win me the grand prize stuffed octopus.”

My mother laughed. Actually laughed. E tu Brute, e tu?

“And every time she missed, she got more determined. I offered to help again, and she basically told me to stand there and look pretty.”

Annie chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“So I did,” Damon said with a shrug. “Best job I've ever had.”

This was exactly why I’d included Section 7: Improvisation into the contract. Damon was a master storyteller, he could hold court and have people eating out of his hand. I didn’t want my life to be a source of entertainment, especially when the narrator was taking very liberal creative license.

“Finally, she handed me the last three rings. But before she let go, she grabbed my shirt, pulled me down, and whispered that if I won on the first try, I was walking home.”

See, that never happened.

Aunt Beverly let out a squeal of laughter.

“And did you?” my mother asked.

Damon's grin softened. “Yeah. First try.”

“Oh, you did not,” Beverly gasped.

Damon looked over at me for confirmation.

“He did,” I confirmed reluctantly.

“And she looked at me like she was seriously considering pushing me into the ocean.”

More laughter circled the table.

“But here's the thing,” Damon continued, his voice growing quieter.

He glanced at Kenny, then back at me, and something in his expression changed. The teasing smile was still there, but it had softened into something so tender it made my chest ache.

“She wasn't upset because she'd lost.”

The laughter faded.

“She was upset because she'd wanted to win something for me.” Damon ran his palm up my thigh, squeezing as he did. “She said that I was always doing little things for her, memorizing her coffee order, bringing her water before bed, remembering her favorite snacks, making sure she had everything she needed. And she just wanted to give me something for a change.”

My throat tightened.

“I tried to tell her that she already gives me more than she knows.”

The table had gone completely silent.

He looked at me then, like we were the only two people in the room. “Because here's this woman who could buy every stuffed animal on that pier without blinking. But she stood there for twenty minutes, getting frustrated over a silly little game, because she wanted to be the one to make me smile.”

His thumb brushed gently over my knee.

“And I don't think she understands how much that means to me.”

I blinked hard.

“So, yeah.” He smiled, a little sheepishly now. “I won her the octopus. But she was the one who gave me something worth keeping.”