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Now she stood beside him, smiling up at the kids. He scooted
closer, slipping his arm around her, and felt her lean into him. He
said nothing, for there was no need for words, and she said
nothing, either. Instead, she tilted her head, resting it against his
shoulder, and Alex was struck by the notion that there was
nothing better in the world.
Erin wasn’t at the tilt-a-whirl or the maze of mirrors or the
haunted house. He watched from the ticket line, trying to blend in,
wanting to see her before she spotted him. He had the advantage
because he knew she was here and she didn’t know about him,
but sometimes people got lucky and strange things happened. He
flashed on the memory of Karen Feldman and the day she
revealed Erin’s secret.
He wished he hadn’t left his vodka in the car. There didn’t seem to
be anywhere to buy more, not a bar in sight. He hadn’t even seen
a booth selling beer, which he didn’t like but would have bought
if he had no other choice. The smell of food made him nauseated
and hungry at the same time and he could feel the sweat
plastering his shirt to his back and armpits.
He walked by the games of chance, run by con artists. Waste of
money because the games were rigged, but morons packed
around them. He searched faces. No Erin.
He wandered toward the other rides. There were kids in bumper
cars, people fidgeting in the line. Beyond that were the swings,
and he started in that direction. He circumvented a cluster of
people, straining for a better view.
* * *
The swings had begun to slow, but Kristen and Josh were still
grinning with excitement. Alex was right about needing to call it a
day; the heat had drained Katie and it would be nice to be able to
cool off for a while. If there was one bad thing about the cottage—
well, there was actually more than one bad thing, she supposed—