Page 69 of You Met Me There

“Ah, I see,” I say, turning my head to Natalie, my brows raised high.

She gives me a yikes face, showing a hint of the dimple across her upper right cheek. “I didn’t know you could tell gender from the way a baby is positioned in the belly,” she says.

“You can’t really.” Miss Paula rolls her eyes at her friend. She doesn’t seem bothered, as if they’ve already gone through this before. “It’s just an old wives’ tale. It doesn’t actually have a real say in the gender, but it’s fun to guess.”

Miss Paula hands us each a set of knitting needles—long pointed things made of metal with stoppers on the ends. She shows us how to get started, creating something called a slipknot. She explains that the beginning of the project is called “casting on,” and she continues by demonstrating, holding the tail of the yarn in the opposite hand and looping it this way and that between her fingers and the needles.

“It’s actually really hard,” Natalie says, setting her needles in her lap after a few minutes and watching the other women as they work.

Each one dabbles in conversation as they loop and twist the strings, the motion so quick it all blurs together in indistinct motions. It’s amazing to watch; even I’m mesmerized by the dance.

“Smile,” sings Nat. I turn to see her with her camera pointed toward me.

I throw my head back and grin. “You’re not going to use this as blackmail, are you?” I say through my teeth, holding a smile in place.

She snaps the photo and looks down at the camera screen. “No. Just as a memory.” She smiles at the picture she took.

Coming to Maple Lake was a good idea. The best idea. When I jumped on a plane, I didn’t think I’d find myself in a small-town diner, knitting with a bunch of gray-haired women as they talk about baby genders.

But Natalie’s soft smile makes it all worth it, and I’d choose to do it again in a heartbeat.

Chapter 34

Natalie

It’s almost seven, the time we planned to meet my family at the fair. Luke’s been back for only two days, and he’s been on calls almost nonstop since Wednesday. Now there’s something wrong with one of the houses in Florida, and he’s been doing his best to deal with it all from here.

It’s okay, though. As much as I wish we had more time together, I’ve been busy, too, with family photo shoots and an engagement session I did last night. I haven’t snagged any interest from my social media post, but I’m not letting that get me down.

We meander through the loud, colorful fair until we find Jules and Sandra standing in line for the Ferris wheel.

Sandra leans in for a hug. “Hey, this is fun! I’m so glad we could all do this.”

“I haven’t been to a fair since I was a teenager,” I say.

“Me too,” she laughs. “Do you two want to ride the Ferris wheel?”

I look up at Luke, and he nods. “Sounds great.” He looks around. “Where are Cam and Tyler?”

“They’re just getting some dinner over there.” She points at a big red food truck that has a line of at least fifteen people waiting to order. “They’ll be waiting a while, so we’re doing this while we wait.”

“Where are the kids?” I ask.

Juliet answers. “Mom and Dad have them at a table eating a funnel cake.”

My eyes flit between my sister and Sandra. “Oh, boy. That’s the perfect dinner. They’ll be bouncing off the walls for days.”

They chuckle, and Jules mumbles, “Tell me about it.”

The girls ride in a red gondola together, while Luke and I hop in the blue one behind them. We hold hands as the wheel turns, and we get lifted high into the air. From the top, we can see absolutely everything.

The fairground consists of a big open field bookended by maple trees and oaks. Lights blink all around us as we rotate around the Ferris wheel, music plays too loudly through speakers nearby, and screams turn to laughter, echoing up from the ground and neighboring rides. When the gondola comes back down, the cacophony of sounds rings out, and when we glide back up to the sky, it all blurs together in a hum. But the scent of hot dogs and oil from deep fryers follows us, floating on the humid breeze. It’s warm tonight, but once the sun goes down, the air will cool to the perfect balmy temperature.

“Just one step closer to skydiving,” Luke says over my shoulder.

I turn my attention away from the view to look at him. “What?”

“The ride. We’re pretty high.”