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“Hey, Mom. Let’s go check out the other tables first.” Dallas pointed down the archway emblazoned with a sign that read Fun and Games.
At the entrance, Adeline Phillips stood next to the principal. She was laughing, the sound like a crow’s call in the middle of the night during one of those creepy movies where the kids see dark things in their closets. Or the sudden music change right before a really bad turn of events in my true crime podcasts.
I broke out in a cold sweat, and my heart pounded against my ribs. “How about we get food first? Maybe a hot dog or, ooh, you guys love those nachos with the plastic cheese. Let’s get some of those.” I turned away from Adeline and headed toward the concessions, ready to eat my weight in fried goodness.
Dallas happily trotted beside me, nose in the air. Scenting the funnel cake, no doubt. On his other side, Miles yanked his arm and shook his head. He widened his eyes at his brother—in anger, if I was reading him right. Dallas looked from the game area over to concessions and raised his brows, his mouth forming an O.
He turned to me. “Yeah, we can do that, but let’s set our stuff at our table first.” He yanked at one of the plastic bags looped around my fingers. “That way we don’t have to carry these everywhere.”
They obviously had something up their sleeves, but truth be told, as much as I wanted to gorge on fried food smothered in powdered sugar, the weight of the plastic bags was making my fingers ache. Plus, even though I’d been given the okay to take off the brace, my right wrist was still kind of sore. Liam would probably get on to me for that when he arrived.
I peered over to where all the parents were lined up talking and winced. “Eh, I don’t know, guys. The booths don’t open up for an hour. We have plenty of time before we have to—”
“Just come on.” Miles grasped my elbow and pulled me down the asphalt and toward my doom. I stumbled, a little taken aback at how my once newborn baby was now strong enough to yank me around.
We turned to the entrance, and then the boys were gone, racing under the banner, not even bothering to glance at the tables they passed. I, on the other hand, could do nothing but stare at everyone else’s work. Giant cornhole tournament boards, basketball goals that lit up when the ball made it through the hoop. Even go fish over a cardboard wall was better than what I had. Jeez, this was more embarrassing than I thought.
I tucked my poster behind my back, hoping the wind would pick up and rip it in half so I could just go home. Or maybe the principal would pity my pathetic flyer, give me a participation trophy, and send me on our way.
However, my luck continued. Dallas and Miles would dart ahead, but then suddenly reappear and pull me down the aisle, closer and closer to our designated spot. I stretched my fingers against the strain of the plastic digging into my skin, desperate for some kind of relief from the now acute pain.
We walked past each table, all the way down to our assigned area. Only, our spot wasn’t empty. There was a decent crowd milling around, taking in the site that had once held our golf course.
Had they given away our space? The tension in my chest relaxed a fraction at the thought. Maybe I really could run back to the car and leave this whole thing behind us. I’d release the boys so they could have fun whilst I tortured myself by eating corn dogs and listening to the people around me gush about all the amazing tables.
But as we got closer, the site came into view. Sure enough, it was our spot.
A new sign stood where I’d last seen the ruined one. This one said Safari Mini Golf – Booth #5.
That was our number, mine and Liam’s. I frowned and shook my head. No, this was impossible. Confused, I turned to look at the boys. Both were wearing bright smiles. Their eyes were sparkling as they nodded and shooed me forward. My brain refused to allow the pieces of this puzzle to click into place. There was absolutely no way this was our mini golf course. Time would have had to freeze to make this happen.
Or maybe this was a dream, because suddenly, it felt as though I was walking an inch off the ground. Like I was floating. This was too good to be true.
Except it wasn’t a dream. Right in front of me was our golf course. And standing next to the sign was none other than Liam Wells. He was smiling at me like he’d won the lottery.
With a hand to my racing heart, I took it all in. A llama spitting real water, a giant moving windmill with a monkey’s face on it, even a few hills with painted pool noodles underneath for support. My lion and hippo had been recreated, only this time, there were no squiggly lines from my wrist pain. And now there were three holes instead of one.
He had done this. Not only had he recreated it, but he’d made it better. I opened my mouth and shut it again, speechless. Instead of words, laughter bubbled out of me. Effervescent joy fizzed in my veins as I walked alongside the holes and took it all in. There were even LED strips along the edges that lit the way for when the sun went down. He’d gone all out. It must have taken hours and hours and so much work to fix this. And he’d done this for me?
“You like it?” The voice was close, deep and rich, sending a shiver up my spine.
Humming, I closed my eyes and breathed in the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his proximity. This man. Oh, this incredible, unique, hard-working, loving man. I adored him.
I spun, coming face to face with him. Only to catch him wincing. Like maybe he was worried I’d say no.
Gesturing to the nearly professional course around us, I laughed, my heart floating in my chest. “Like it? Liam…it’s…it’s…” I searched for the words, but none existed that could sum up how incredible this moment was.
“Better. Isn’t it?” He laughed with me. “Didn’t think it could get any better and yet…”
No longer caring about any audience that had gathered to see the setup, I flattened my hands on his cheeks, relishing the way his coarse beard felt against my palms. “I cannot believe you did this.”
He smirked down at me and settled his hands on my waist. “I had a little help.”
Behind me, a throat cleared. I spun, finding Crew wearing his signature smile, with paint all over his Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. Liam glared at him. Crew mouthed a sorry and then ducked behind the sign at the entrance.
I laughed, and Liam sighed.
“Okay, I had a lot of help.”
