Page 64 of Keepsakes and Kismet

“We are not apple bobbing. Do you know how unsanitary that is?” Callum squints, his furrowed eyebrows telling a story all their own. “You have to dunk your face in the same bucket as everyone else. Water is a vehicle for disease transmission, Peyton.”

“But it sounds like so much fun.”

“Voluntary waterboarding sounds fun to you?”

“It’s not waterboarding!”

“There’s no scenario where you come up for air and your eyes aren’t red and teary.”

“Maybe I like my eyes red and teary. This one time, I had to round out the guest list at a funeral as a professional mourner. I cried all day. It’s still one of the most fun assignments I’ve ever had.”

He blinks at me. Then he turns around and tugs my hand closer until I’m in front of him. In this position, I’m blocked by him and his back is toward my friends. No one can see, though, they’re all distracted with Grace and Giovanni mediating Tessa and Daniel’s squabble anyway.

Callum tilts his head in question, I nod, and he leans down to press his lips chastely on mine. “You are hilarious.” He kisses me. “And so much fun.” Another kiss. “And I’m really fond of you.” Kiss.

My lips tilt up. “I’m really fond of you, too.”

When he turns back around, things seem to have calmed down. Perfect timing for the big introduction. “Daniel. This is Callum.”

Daniel holds out his hand. “Hey, man, good to meet you. I’m⁠—”

“DT,” Callum interjects, shaking his hand. “Wow. It’s unbelievable to meet you in person.”

“Oh? Are you a big Mustangs fan?”

Callum sighs. He actually sighs. “No. But I’m a big… you fan.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. I glance at Tessa, whose smile stretches from ear to ear. Now that Daniel’s retired, it’s easy to forget how awkward people can be around him.

“That’s kind of you, Callum.” He pauses. “Callum—I like your name. Should we add it to our list, Gracie?”

Grace shakes her head. “We’re not naming our future baby after Peyton’s friend. No offense, Peyton. Or Callum. It’s a great name. We just don’t know you well enough.”

Friend. The word sounds so wrong to describe Callum’s relationship with me, but I think he’s too starstruck to notice.

“Are congratulations in order?” I ask. Tessa didn’t mention anything about being a future aunt, but maybe I missed something.

Tessa rolls her eyes. “No. Daniel has baby fever, and he’s making it the whole family’s problem. He’s become obsessed with crowdsourcing the perfect name.”

“Troll me all you want, but you’ll thank me when you don’t accidentally end up with a niece or nephew named after the kid who barfed in your backpack when you were ten.”

“David R., Mrs. Wilton’s homeroom,” Tessa whispers with a shudder.

“And Gracie’s the one making it difficult.” Daniel scoffs. “She vetoes all my favorites because they’re patient-name-adjacent.”

Grace puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not my fault that you lean chihuahua with your suggestions, Danny. That’s a taste issue.”

Daniel launches into a long-winded counterargument, noting that Grace’s favorite names are all past football players. That leads him back to the former athlete comment, and he throws in a few records he still holds as proof his athletic skills stand today.

Callum appears to be hanging on every single one of Daniel’s words, maybe individually framing them to keep as his most precious memories when he’s old.

“Okay. As much as we all want to hear about the good ol’ days, we want donuts more. Why don’t you get in line at the cart? In fact, take Callum with you. More hands to carry the cider sippers,” Tessa says, waving him off.

“Fine.” Daniel claps Callum on the shoulder, and I’m pretty sure I see Callum shiver. “You ready, man?”

Callum swallows nervously. “Yep.”

Dear God.