My mom takes the phone away from my dad and huffs. “Stop talking bad about me.”
“I’m not,” I giggle. “Just stating the facts.”
“Oh, whatever.” She laughs and blows out a sigh. “Tell Logan we’ll see him at the festival. We’re going to stop by after my appointment.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you there.”
We hang up, and I slide my phone into my back pocket. When I get into the living room, Logan already has his shoes on and is ready to go with his Baltimore Ravens hat on his head. I grab my keys off the kitchen counter and wave for him to go out the door.
“Let’s go.”
We get in the car and head on our way to the festival, which only takes a few minutes. Cars are everywhere, much more so than how it was many years ago when I was younger. With all the people, I know it helps the local businesses. I find a parking space, and Logan is out of the car quick and fast. I’ve never seen him so excited about a festival before. When we lived in Baltimore, we went to many events together, but it never had that small-town feel. It’s one of the things I missed. I like small towns, but I don’t like how everyone knows about everyone else’s business. When I moved back, I had numerous people come up to me and ask about my divorce. My mom claims she only told her closest two friends, but word travels fast.
Logan walks alongside me and says, hey to the kids he knows as we stroll past them. The main strip of downtown is blocked off for the parade, but there are game booths and food vendors scattered throughout the park.
I nudge him with my elbow. “Want to play some games?”
He smirks up at me. “I’ll beat you.”
“We’ll see about that.” We stop at the ticket booth, and I buy ten dollars’ worth of tickets, which will only let us play about two games each. We have to throw a baseball to knock down the three stacked milk bottles the first game we come to. I hand the man our tickets, and he gives me the baseball first. I already know I’m going to lose. Logan knows how to throw a football precisely at his teammates. A baseball isn’t going to be much different. Also, sports were never my thing until Logan came along.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow and throw the ball as hard as possible. Of course, it flies right past the bottles and misses them. Logan bursts out laughing and doubles over from cackling so hard. “Mom, that sucked.”
I wave him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know you’re going to beat me.”
Logan gets into his stance and keeps his eyes on the bottles. He has the same look on his face that he gets when he’s playing football—concentrated and focused on the target. He rears back and lets the ball go, connecting right in the center of the bottles, all three of them falling to the ground.
The people around us hoot and holler at his triumph, and he loves every minute of it. When it comes time for him to pick his prize, there are dozens of different choices like stuffed bears, unicorns, turkeys, hearts, and anything you could imagine at a festival. However, he points at a smiling, stuffed avocado, and when the man behind the booth hands it to him, he gives it to me. “For you.”
Loving it, I hug it to my chest. “Why the avocado?”
He shrugs. “You eat a lot of them. Thought you’d like it.”
I wrap my arm around his shoulders and squeeze. “I love it. Thanks, Logi-Bear.”
Eyes wide, he jerks his head around. “Shh … don’t call me that here. Someone might hear you.”
“Sorry,” I giggle. We start toward another game booth, but then I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. My smile immediately disappears, and I grab Logan’s arm. Kyler is standing at one of the booths where they’re selling grills, and I don’t think he’s seen us yet.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
I point toward a booth that’s across the park. “Let’s go that way.”
He shakes his head. “But I want to stop at these first before the parade starts.”
The last thing I want is to get stopped by Kyler. I just have to hope and pray he doesn’t notice me. Turning my back toward him, I go with Logan to the ring toss game booth. Logan uses my ticket so he can play twice. And, of course, he takes his time. I don’t want to look behind me, so I keep my eyes focused on the game. That is until I hear his voice.
“Hi, Maeve. I was hoping I’d see you here.”
Logan turns to him and then looks up at me, wondering why I haven’t responded. Blowing out a silent sigh, I face Kyler. My eyes go instantly to his leg, but I can’t see his knee because of his jeans.