CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Finally! I thought you'd forgotten all about me.”
Peter grabbed the bag out of Megan's hands and opened it up. His hand dived in and came out with a fistful of French fries.
“Mom had to get her poutine.” Alexis meandered into the house, her hands full with a bottle of pop and a bag.
Megan followed Peter. Together they unpacked the bags of food and laid everything out on the table.
“Sorry it’s fries again. I tried to opt for something a tad bit healthier, but the girls chose this,” she said as she popped a French fry into her mouth.
Peter grinned. She knew he didn’t care.
“I wasn't sure if you would be here,” Megan said. She didn't want the girls to overhear, so she kept her voice low.
Peter's eyebrow rose. “Why wouldn't I be?” He found her poutine and placed it on her plate.
Megan lowered her head. Her cheeks heated. “You told me you might not be. I figured you had plans.” She didn't look at him.
Peter's fingers touched her chin and with a gentle tug, she lifted her face. There was a gentleness to his gaze she didn't expect to see.
“The only plans I have are spending the night with my family.”
Megan searched his eyes. She believed him. Why this sudden case of doubt?
“Can we eat?” Alexis flopped down in her chair and unwrapped her burger. Hannah joined her and dug into her French fries.
Megan exchanged a look with Peter. A wave of happiness flooded her body. This was her family. She'd taken steps today to become a part of them again.
“So, how was shopping?” Peter addressed the girls, but Megan knew the question was directed towards her. She concentrated on the poutine, giving the girls time to tell him first.
His eyes met hers. “Did you survive?” A hint of a smile appeared.
“She bought just as much as we did, Dad.” Hannah answered for her.
“Did she now?”
Megan nodded her head. She survived.
Peter clapped his hands together. “Well, I don't want to be left out, so I have a surprise of my own.” Peter's face became animated. The dimples in his cheeks appeared beside the huge smile, his eyes danced at the announcement.
“We're getting a puppy?” Alexis asked.
Peter shook his head.
“We're going to Disneyland?” Hannah piped up.
Peter shook his head again. He fidgeted with excitement, like a little kid in a candy store. Alexis looked to Megan, but she only shook her head. This was a surprise to her as well. She pushed her fork into her poutine dish, and swirled it around.
“The Hanton Fair is this weekend,” Peter said. No one responded. “I think we should go.”
Megan was taken aback. The Hanton Fair? Megan bent her head and gulped back her hesitation. Too many ugly memories surrounded the fair for Megan.
The last time they'd planned to go, Emma had been kidnapped hours before they were to leave. Megan thought Emma might have been tempted by all the balloons she saw at the Kinrich town parade they’d just attended that day. Emma had fallen in love with the clowns she saw and begged to have a red balloon.
“Megan?” Peter placed his hand onto of hers and squeezed.
She took a deep breath. “The Hanton Fair, huh? Wow. It’s been a while since we’ve gone to that. Talk about a surprise.” She tried to infuse excitement in her voice, but it fell flat.
“Can we go? Please?” Alexis begged.
“I think it would be good for us. A step forward.” Peter squeezed her hand again. Megan's fingers tightened around the fork in her hand.
She nodded her head. She'd go to the fair. It might kill her to do so, but at least her family would be happy.
*****
“Higher, Papa. Higher.”
Jack pushed the swing higher. Emmie laughed as she pumped her legs. Her shoe flew off. Daisy chased after it, picked it up and brought it back, only to have Emmie swing above her.
“Last push,” Jack said. His arms ached from the constant motion. Ever since he'd hung the old swing, all she'd wanted to do was swing higher. Next, he'd have to build her a stool so she could climb on the tire herself.
Dottie sat under the large maple tree. With her eyes closed and her head resting against the back of the chair, a smile graced her face. Still as beautiful as the day they met. She loved the warmth. He remembered when they were first married, how she used to lay on a blanket for hours on their lawn. Now, she hid in the shade. A light breeze played with the strands of hair that had escaped the bobby pins.
“Are you sleeping, love?”
“Hmm, not quite. Just enjoying the breeze.” She slid one eye open and looked at him. The corner of her mouth lifted before her eye drifted shut again.
Daisy ran over, jumped up and placed both paws on Dottie's knees. She dropped Emmie's shoe in her lap.
She glanced down her nose at the shoe in her lap and grimaced. “Emmie, if you continue to play fetch with your shoe, it's going to get wrecked.” Dottie dropped her hand and wiped her fingers on the grass.
“Sorry.” Emmie continued to pump her legs on the tree swing.
Jack stepped to the side as Emmie swung back and forth without his help. “You don't want to do that. If you don't have your shoes, you can't come on the surprise.”
She twisted her head around. “A surprise? For me?”
“Yeppers. But you need shoes.” Jack looked down at Daisy who sat in the middle of the swing path.
Emmie tucked her foot inside the tire swing. “No more shoes, Daisy.”
Jack crossed his arms and waited. He turned his head slightly to the side and winked. Dottie smiled back.
“Papa? What's the surprise?”
The tire swing began to slow as Emmie stopped pumping her legs. She turned to look at him and the swing twisted. A frantic look swept across Emmie's face as she swung wildly about. Her arms flailed as she panicked. Jack grabbed onto the rope and steadied her. She reached her hands out and grabbed hold of him. Despite the shakiness in his arms, he lifted her out of the swing and pulled her close. Emmie wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her face into his neck.
“Shh, now. You're all right,” Jack crooned as he walked over to the chair and sank down with Emmie.
When Dottie reached across, Emmie scooted out of Jack's lap and crawled into Dottie's. Jack rubbed the scratches on his neck. The girl needed to cut her fingernails.
“Now, Papa was about to tell you about the fair. Don't you want to listen?” Dottie rubbed Emmie's back.
Jack groaned as Emmie's head popped up. “What part of the word surprise didn't you hear, woman?” He shook his head and crossed his arms.
Dottie's eyes widened. “Oops.” She covered her mouth with her hand.
Emmie giggled. A wide smile appeared on her face.
“The fair? Really? Oh, I love the fair,” Emmie said. She jumped out of Dottie's arms and danced around in a circle. Daisy sprang up from her crouched position and followed.
“Whoa, there, Princess. You don't want to get all dizzy now.”
Emmie dropped to the grass in a heap and clapped her hands together. “Can we go now?” She scooped Daisy up in her lap and cuddled her close. “I want to go to a fair Papa. Will there be clowns and balloons?”
Jack scratched his head. How did Emmie know about the clowns and balloons? He looked to Dottie, but she shook her head at him. A frown appeared on her face.
“Did you see a commercial on the television about the fair?” That was the only way she could know about the balloons and clowns. They've never taken her before. Dottie always said no.
Emmie shook her head. “Nope. With Mommy.” She picked at a dandelion at her feet and rubbed it underneath Daisy's chin.
“Not this fair, dear.” Dottie's face scrunched up, her lips puckered as she watched Emmie. Jack didn't like what he saw.
“Can we get the pink fluffy stuff? I like that kind. Can we, Papa?”
Jack leaned forward. “Cotton candy? Oh, I think we can. Grandma likes the pink one best too.”
Emmie sprang up from the grass, grabbed onto Jack's outstretched hands and jumped into his lap. “Can we go on rides too, Papa? Please?” Emmie reached across and grabbed Dottie's hand. “Grandma, you too?”
“Oh I don't think so, Emmie.” Dottie shook her head while she patted her stomach. “Grandma doesn't do rides very well.”
Jack laughed. The last time he'd managed to cajole Dottie to go on a ride with him, she ended up sicker than a dog. They stayed at the fair for only an hour before they had to leave.
That had been five years ago. He thought about the Ferris wheel. Going up so high you could see straight across town and halfway out the lake. His stomach tumbled at the thought of going up so high. Seems the older he got, the more he liked his feet on the ground.
Emmie's lips turned into a pout. Jack tickled her until a smile appeared. “Just cause Grandma won't go on rides, doesn't mean Papa won't. Silly girl.”
“I'm not silly!”
Jack worked hard to place a stern look on his face. “Of course you are. Only silly girls pout when they don't get their way.”
Emmie dropped her chin to her chest. She fiddled with her fingers for a few moments.
“Okay.”
Daisy jumped up and chased after a bee. Emmie laughed and chased after Daisy. Jack shook his head. He was about to go chase after her, when her words stopped him short.
“I want a red balloon, Papa!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The trampled grass from the hundreds of feet
had matted into clumps. Megan was careful where she placed her foot. Her flip-flop had already come off once when her foot had landed on a wad of sticky gum. She knew she should have worn her running shoes. But on this hot summer night, the last thing she wanted was sweaty feet. Something crackled under her foot. With a grimace, Megan hopped on one foot as she took off the flip-flop and shook it. She'd stepped on a cup that obviously wasn't empty. She took a deep breath and let it out.
Peter, who walked ahead of her, glanced back with a questioning look on his face. She forced her lips to resemble something that should look like a smile. It worked. Peter gave her the thumbs up gesture. With a nod, she looked down at her shoe as droplets of pop formed a puddle on the ground.
She hated the fair. With a passion. A wave of anger flooded through her. She wished she had never agreed to come.
Hannah walked beside her. She hummed quietly under her breath. Megan had snapped at her back in the car as they drove up and down the crowded parking lot trying to find a space that was wide enough for the Jeep. Full of excitement and energy, Hannah jabbered on about the rides she wanted to go on and if she could get cotton candy and maybe even win a prize. With a bout of impatience, Megan turned her head and a sharp stab of pain sliced through her right eye. She should have just kept her mouth shut, but instead she told her daughter to shut her mouth before she did it for her. Megan pursed her lips. She wished she could rewind her life. Again.
She reached for Hannah's hand that swung by her side and held on to it.
“I'm sorry, Hannah. I should never have said that.” She wound her fingers with her daughter's and waited for a response. It didn't take long.
Hannah beamed a smile at her. “It's okay. I know this is tough for you. Do you still have a headache?”
Megan wanted to hug her. Instead, she swung her hand and kept an eye on the ground for other messes to avoid.
Peter and Alexis waited at the opening gate. Alexis kept looking through the crowd at all the different rides. Scouting it out, just like she said she would. She held something that looked like a map in her hand. Peter held tickets in his. Megan closed her eyes for a brief second and repeated the mantra she made herself memorize.
I will enjoy tonight. I will laugh and smile and have fun. I will focus on my family. I will not ... no, don't think about Emma. She promised Peter she wouldn't. A bit of self-disgust filled her heart. Disgust at herself for giving in so easily.
Alexis grabbed onto her arm. “Mom, can we go to the games first? I want to win a frog. Please?”
Megan looked through the crowds to the midway. The bright lights that flickered on and off along the top of the booths. A roving pack of teenagers, their eyes bright with excitement and their hands full of popcorn bags and large cups of pop, mingled. The obnoxious catcalls of the carnival game barkers filled the air. Megan's head pounded with each ting! ting! of the plastic rings being thrown against the glass bottles and the bam! bam! of the popped balloons as they popped from the darts thrown at them.
“Please, Mom, please?”
Megan threw Peter a look. She hoped he saw the daggers she mentally flung at him. He only shrugged his shoulders and smiled. The dimples in his chin appeared. She couldn't stay mad at him. Not tonight. A whiff of over-fried grease caught her attention. Hmmm, mini-donuts. Okay, she could be happy if mini-donuts were thrown into the mix.
Peter placed his arm around Alexis and squeezed. “Let's go, chum. Your mom has the camera, we'll make sure she takes pictures of us winning arm loads of prizes, okay?” He winked at Megan.
Megan brought her hand up to the camera that hung from her neck. She'd forgotten all about it. When Peter had looped it around her head earlier, it had felt so foreign to her. The heaviness pulled at her neck. Like heavy chains with a padlock. Once upon a time, she never would have left home without it. Peter used to joke that it would become an appendage if she wasn't careful. Now, it took effort to take a picture. A moment captured forever. A picture to signify that life continued.
She held the camera up, forced a grin to overtake her lips. “Let's get started then, shall we?”
She followed behind Peter and Alexis, careful of the black cables wrapped together in duct tape. Just her luck, she tripped over one and landed in a pool of gooey mud. Hannah held her hand out. Megan grabbed it and was amazed at her daughter’s strength as she helped to pull her out of the mud. A sense of pride filled Megan. Her daughter was trying so hard to be aware of Megan's feelings.
“Go on, Hannah. Go win a prize with your sister.” Megan motioned ahead. Hannah's face lit up. She ran ahead and grabbed Peter's other hand. He glanced over his shoulder at Megan, his eyes bright with life. He always loved going to the fair.
Megan thought back to the night they first met. At this fair, many years ago. She'd gone with a group of friends, their first time out at the fairgrounds alone, at night. Megan smiled as she remembered the freedom of that night. Her girlfriends had won their own share of stuffed animals, but Megan was a lousy shot. Her darts missed every balloon, the rings never made it over the coke bottles, and God forbid she knew how to shoot water at a duck.
Peter, a senior to her junior, waited in line behind her. He paid for her to try her luck again, but this time, he helped her aim. Along with her very first stuffed duck, she was also asked out on her first date. A perfect night for firsts.
At the weathered duck-shooting booth, where Alexis stood with her feet wide, Megan picked up the camera, turned it on and waited. Peter stood behind their daughter and steadied her arm. She flew him a smile. That's when Megan clicked the camera. A moment stolen between a father and daughter. It felt right, taking that picture. The camera wasn't as heavy as before. It was as if the flash turned a light on within Megan's heart.
Alexis hit every shot and won a duck. Megan snapped her picture as she flung her arms around Peter and squeezed tight.
“Can you help me too?” Hannah held the water gun in her hands as she looked at Peter. Her eyes begged him to help.
Peter stood behind Hannah, had her rest her arm over top of his and helped her to aim. “You know, your mom couldn't play this game either without my help.”
Megan stuck her tongue out at him as he winked at her.
“Really?” Alexis' mouth hung open.
“Close your mouth, honey,” Megan said. She glared at Peter. “Your father only thought I couldn't shoot the ducks. What he didn't know is that it was my plan all along for him to help me.”
“Oh, really?” Peter's eyebrow lifted.
Hannah took another shot, this time on her own. And missed. Peter held her arm straight, she aimed for a duck. Megan lifted the camera once again, focused the lenses and took the picture of Hannah hitting the duck, throwing her arms up in the air and a huge smile on her face.
Peter smirked at Megan while he gave Hannah a high-five. “Prove it.”
Megan tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I don't need to prove anything.” She winked at Alexis.
“Do it, Mom, do it,” said Alexis.
Megan unhooked her camera from around her neck and handed it to her daughter. “We'll need evidence of this. Take a good shot, okay?”
Megan moved up to the booth. The ducks moved along in lines, large circles on their bodies. Peter handed her the water gun. “Good luck,” he said. When he didn't move, she elbowed him in the side. She knew if she tried to follow the ducks, she'd never hit one. But if she aimed in one spot and waited for a duck to come towards it, she'd be fine. All she needed was one shot. Megan swallowed, took aim and shot. When she realized the spray of water actually hit the duck, she turned and held her arms up high.
“Two more shots.” A smirk covered Peter’s face. Almost as if he knew it was a lucky shot.
“You can do it, Mom,” Hannah’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Alexis held the camera up to her face, waiting to take another picture.
Megan stuck her tongue out at Peter, who only smiled back. She turned to watch the ducks, their yellow plastic bodies bobbed along the conveyor line. No sweat. She brought her arm back up, cupped her hand to steady it and waited for another duck to drench. She pulled the trigger. And missed.
“That's okay, Mom. One more shot. You can do it,” Hannah encouraged her.
“Do you need my help this time?” Peter smiled.
Megan shook her head. She could do this. She repeated the process, but this time waited for a few ducks to pass before she pulled the trigger.
“Augh,” Alexis groaned. “So close.” She just missed the tail.
“Maybe next time, eh?” Peter gave her a side hug. “Guess you still need me around.”
Megan motioned for Alexis to take another picture. She wrapped her arms around Peter and looked up. “Well, you're good for some things I guess,” she smiled.
He leaned down to give her a kiss as the flash went off.
“Can we try the fishing one now?” Hannah pulled on Megan's arm.
With the camera back around her neck, Megan trailed behind her family as they jostled through the crowds. Megan snapped pictures of the girls as they enjoyed the fair. She kept her focus on her daughters. She'd made a promise.
After Hannah won a fish at the fishing pond, Megan had the girls stop so she could take the picture. She wanted to ensure the atmosphere of the grounds filled the room, the bright lights, the clowns and the booths.
As she focused the lens, an outline of someone in the background caught her attention. A little girl with pigtails filled the background of the frame. Megan’s heart skipped a beat. Everything else around her muted, the sounds, the smells, the sights -- everything but the sight of the little girl. She took a step forward.
It was her blond hair and white dress that stood out to Megan. From the distance, it looked like Emma. From a distance. Megan took in a deep breath and exhaled. She’d made a promise. She would not, could not, see Emma in every little girl with pigtails.
Peter stood beside her, and despite how hard her hand shook, she didn't lower the camera for a better look. It must be her imagination, wanting to see something that wasn't there. It always was. How many times had she thought it was Emma only to realize too late it wasn’t? How many children had she scared?
How many times would she continue to break her own heart? With the little girl still in the background, Megan snapped the shot. She lowered the camera with slow precision and smiled at her daughters. Tonight was for her family. Tonight she would ignore her own pain and step out of the past. Peter grabbed her hand, entwined his fingers with hers. She tried to find the little girl, but a crowd of teenagers swelled behind Alexis and Hannah, jostling them from their spot.
“You okay?” Peter asked. He squeezed her hand.
Megan looked at him, and then back into the crowd. She saw the concern in his eyes. “I'm fine,” she said. She planted a smile on her face and squeezed his hand.
She wanted to tell him that she'd just seen Emma. She needed to tell him. But he wouldn't believe her. She wasn't even sure she believed herself anymore.
*****
The heavy weight on his shoulder wiggled with each step he took. His shoulders ached. Dottie warned him not to carry Emmie on his shoulders, that it would hurt his back too much, but how could he deny his little girl?
“I see it, I see it! Over there, Papa, do you see the lights?”
Jack held tight to her legs as she pointed out ahead of her. They skirted the cars that waited for a parking spot to open and headed closer to the fair grounds.
“What people have against walking a few extra steps instead of parking close, is beyond me,” Dottie said as she glared at the passengers in the vehicle that waited for them to pass before cruising down the rest of the pathways to find an open spot.
“Good exercise never hurt a person. I'm telling you, the kids this age are growing up to be lazy.”
Jack shook his head. “Stop your mumbling woman.”
“Why don't you put her down? She can walk the rest of the way.” Dottie reached up to grab Emmie's waist.
Jack shooed her hand away. “Leave her be. She's fine up here. The girl wants to see the lights, and see the lights she will.”
Jack shrugged his shoulders in an effort to distribute his granddaughter's weight. She barely weighed anything, but at the moment, a feather would have felt like a ton of bricks.
“Do you want me down, Papa?” Emmie leaned down until her cheek pressed up against his.
“No, kiddo, you're fine. Once we get inside the grounds, then you can get down. Deal?” He readjusted his arms around her legs. He should have taken her shoes off earlier. Her heels kept digging into his chest.
A cluster of balloons flew up into the sky. Emmie giggled as she watched them.
“Can I get a balloon when we get there?”
“As long as there are some left,” Jack said. He groaned as he stepped in a pile of spilt fries.
“Put her down, Jack,” Dottie said.
She grabbed Emmie's hand and began to pull. Jack reached up for her other hand and after a bit of maneuvering, Emmie climbed down and off his back. Jack straightened and stretched. A loud pop sounded, pressure relieved. Ahhh, now that felt better.