And since, we went about our days as normally as possible. Each night before bed, we were counting down the hours until our first official date.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“God, it’s cold!” I said, crossing my arms to keep warm. “Why did we have to walk?”
“We’ll never find parking in town,” Chris said, putting his arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. “It’s okay. We’ll be there soon. Don’t lose focus. Distract yourself. Keep going.”
“Okay, favorite color?”
“Blue,” he said. “Favorite household pet?”
“Fish. Favorite—”
“Fish?” he asked, stopping me before I could pose my next question. “Why not cat? Dog? Gerbil? Something normal.”
“Fish are low maintenance,” I said, my teeth chattering. “They’re like the Sydney of the animal kingdom. Give ’em some food and water and they’re happy.”
He shook his head, fighting a smile. “Continue.”
“Favorite ice cream?”
“Chocolate,” he said. “Favorite festival food?”
“Cotton candy!”
We walked toward the center of the town square—straight to the Morgantown Christmas Festival. The town was decorated in an overhaul of red, white, and green for the holidays. There were lush wreaths hanging from the lantern-style light posts all around the square. The dark sky blanketed the whole event, sprinkling tiny flakes of snow on the festival attendees. Everything was illuminated by countless strings of Christmas lights and carnival glow; the rides, the food trucks, the small attractions—everything gave off a fluorescent beam of light. It was breathtaking.
Small children ran through the streets, racing to get to the next ride. Parents rushed after them. There were teenagers on every curb, huddled in small groups. The ticket line was backed up to the concession stands, and I eyed the booth, wondering how long we’d have to wait to score a few—
“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen,” Chris said, watching me from the corner of his eye. “I’m not getting on that Ferris wheel.”
“Oh, come on!” I begged, tugging on his arm again. “It’ll be fun.”
“Toppling over the side?” he asked. “Crashing to the ground? Having the county coroner scrape your brains off the pavement?”
“You paint a lovely picture, Mr. Ralston,” I said. “You won’t do it? Not even for me?”
“Not even for you,” he said, nudging me. He pulled me closer to him, and I dropped my head at his shoulder.
The first hour was a sensory overload. The festival buzz was high, and I skipped through the streets, loving every minute. Chris could barely keep up.
We weaved in and out of the rows of pop-up shops, games, and rides. We even stopped at the occasional carnival game. I tried my hand at the Hammer of Strength, but it turned out I wasn’t nearly as strong as I thought I was. Chris didn’t take the opportunity to swing the hammer, so I spent the next ten minutes teasing that it was because I was stronger than him. Next we paid a dollar to throw dull-tipped darts at balloons. I nearly hit the carnival worker with every shot. Chris, though, managed to nail three balloons, winning a prize from the wall.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Me?”
“Pick something.”
“Oh, my God. This is a prelude to the big event, isn’t it?” I asked.
“What big event?”
“Oh, you know, a boy and girl go to a festival,” I explained. “He shows off his skills and impresses her with his precision and deft movement. He wins a prize, lets her choose, and she coos. He’s so dreamy. And then he whisks her away, and off they go skipping to the Ferris wheel. And of course, we all know how this part of the story goes: they’ll go round and round, blissfully happy. The ride will stop. They’ll get stuck at the top together, and he’ll think, now’s my moment. Now I can kiss her! And he does; he goes in for it, and they share a kiss—a passionate kiss. Romance galore! He confesses his feelings for her, and she smiles, because they’re in love. Love wins!”
He smiled. “What in the world has gotten into you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither, but I like it,” he said.
“I guess I like the idea of it all being that easy, that’s all.”
“Well, let me promise you something,” he said, taking a stuffed bear that the carnival worker passed to him. He handed it to me. “When the big event happens, it won’t be at the top of some old, rickety carnival ride.”
“When?” I asked. “When the big event happens?”
“That’s what I said.” He did his best to hide a stupid grin when we rounded the walkway, coming up on a food truck with a familiar face bustling around on the inside.
“Theo, my good man,” I said, running up to the window. Theo turned and smiled, waving a spatula at me.
“Little Bird,” he said. “How’re you enjoying it?”
“It’s amazing!”
“You guys hungry? Can I whip something up for you?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m thinking I’ll start with cotton candy, and then I’ll slowly make my way over to something more substantial.”
“Hang here, I’ll get you some,” Chris said, nodding a few rows over to a sweets truck. He disappeared before I had time to argue—not that I would’ve. I’d been eyeing the cotton candy since we reached the town square.
“So how’s it going?” Theo asked. “Enjoying your first Morgantown festival?”
“It’s cold,” I said. “And it’s loud, but it’s a good change of pace. And I’m in good company.”
“You certainly are.” Theo matched my smile. “It’s nice to see you happy, Little Bird.”
He kept his head down and focused on the grill, fulfilling two orders as they came in at the window. I sidestepped the truck to stay out of the way of business, but once the orders were filled, I returned to the window.
“Are you having a busy night?”
“Nothing like last year,” he said. “Little bit of breathing room here and there.”
Chris turned the corner and stopped next to me, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “What’d I miss?”
“Where’s my cotton candy?” I asked, looking to his empty hands.
“Oh,” he took a step back. “I forgot . . . ”
“You forgot?” I asked. “How could you forget the one thing you disappeared for?”
“I ran into Amy and Eli,” he said. “They’re back in town, and they want us to meet up with them after you’re done.”
“After I’m done with what?” I asked. He opened his palm to reveal six blue tickets. “What are those?” He nodded behind me, and I turned to look up at the giant looming Ferris wheel behind us.
“Oh, my God, are you serious?”
“I am.”
Theo stepped closer to the window, leaning so that he could better see what was happening outside the truck. He looked as shocked as I did that Chris was taking that kind of chance.
“You’re going up there with me?”
“Me?” Chris asked. “No. No way. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then?”
“Theo,” he said. “Care to take this beautiful lady up in the deathtrap?”
“Can’t,” he said. “I’ve got a food truck to look after.”
“I can handle it for a while,” Chris said, sliding the tickets through the window. “Your niece wants to ride. Go on, take her.”
Theo didn’t offer another argument, and he actually looked excited to get away and enjoy some of the festival for himself. He exited the truck, coming around the corner to join me in front of the window. Chris traded places, climbing in and shutting the door; he looked completely out of his element surrounded by a grill and deep fryers.
“You think you can handle that?” I asked.
Chris shrugged. “It can’t be too hard, right?”
“You ready, Little Bird?” Theo asked.
“Sure,” I said
, weaving my arm through his. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, and hey, Theo,” Chris called out, leaning out the window. “Be careful if you guys get stuck at the top. She has some strange romantic notion about what happens up there. She’ll probably try to kiss you.”
“It’s true,” I nodded, and Theo laughed.
He put his arm around me and pulled me close as we walked for the line.
“So good to see you happy,” he said again.
***
I’d finally figured out the nickname, and coming off the ride with Theo, I was more grateful than ever that his name was the one I’d drawn from the Secret Santa bowl.
I was his little bird—scared of the big world, terrified to take a leap, but backed by all the support I’d need from a guardian, whenever I was ready to kick off. He was there to protect me, to nudge me up, to keep me soaring. He wouldn’t let me fall . . . He cared to see me succeed.
We flew on the Ferris wheel. Arms outstretched and over our heads, we rotated slowly through that circle, over and over, letting the cold wind blow across our faces.
We flew.
“Was it everything you ever dreamed it would be?” Chris asked.
“And then some,” I said, throwing my arms up on the window ledge of Theo’s food truck. I leaned my head on my arms, watching as Chris lowered down to talk to me through the mesh screen.
“Except Theo said I wasn’t allowed to call him Big Bird.”
“In what world do you think I look like a giant yellow bird?” Theo asked.
“You call me Little Bird,” I said, letting that suffice as my argument.
He ruffled my hair with his massive fingers and kept walking for the truck door.
I looked up at Chris. There was a sheer layer of sweat on his forehead, and his dark hair was speckled with flour. Even then, well on his way to looking like a hot mess, he was still beautiful as ever.
“You’re smiling,” he said quietly.
“You realize I have more than a million reasons to?” I asked, my smile fading. “What do you say we get out of here? It’s late, it’s cold, and it’s still going to take us ten minutes to walk back.”
Chris climbed out of the truck and adjusted his clothes. We said our goodbyes to Theo for the night, and turned away from the truck.
“Are you too cold to stick around for a few more minutes?” Chris asked.
“No, what’s on your mind?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out two blue tickets.
“One for you, one for me,” he said, nodding to the carousel where Amy and Eli waited for us at the gate. “It’s a Kathy Ralston tradition. You never leave a carnival, festival, or fair without a finale on the carousel. What do you say?”
“Let’s do it,” I said, taking the ticket.
We didn’t rush our walk over to the entrance line. All around us, people were rushing, moving quickly to get from one place to another. Everything buzzed, flashing quickly, but not us. We were in slow motion. We were in a moment. We were taking our time, making our way.
When we finally reached the line, we handed off our tickets and hopped onto the ride.
“How was the Ferris wheel?” Amy asked.
“It was fun,” I said, climbing up on a white pony with a thick, gray mane, sitting side-saddle to face Chris as he hoisted himself up on the one next to me.
“Wait, photo op,” he said, sliding down, his feet smacking the metal floor. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Amy, could you?”
“Yeah,” she said, taking his phone. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Chris turned back, stopping right next to where I sat. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he cozied up next to me. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Whenever you are,” he said to Amy, and she held the phone higher.
“Say cheese, guys.”
We both smiled, and the camera shuttered. As she passed his phone back to him, the ride jutted forward.
“Go, get on your horse,” I said, tapping him with my feet to kick him back to his rightful place.
Amy and Eli sat in the carriage in front of us, holding hands and talking throughout the ride. Over and over we rode in a circle, listening to the organ play us a lullaby. I wrapped my arm around the pole in front of me, resting my head there, and I watched Chris as he held onto his horse, watching me.
Everything around us swirled, the lights and colors, the smells and the sounds. The world outside that carousel no longer existed. It was just us, both of us, in that moment.
I wanted a million more of those moments with him.
A million.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Merry Christmas from your Secret Santa,” I said, setting a wrapped gift in front of Theo. From where he sat on the floor next to the tree, I stood behind him and wrapped a hug around his large body. “I hope you like it.”
After our ride together on the Ferris wheel those six nights ago, I was confident as ever that I’d made him the perfect gift for Christmas. It wasn’t anything elaborate or fancy, and it sure as heck wouldn’t compete with whatever it was that Danielle bought for Chris, but it was special, and it was something from the heart.
It was Christmas Eve morning and time to exchange our gifts. We’d enjoyed a nice breakfast together before watching the parade go by the front window, but the gift exchange portion of the morning would have to go fast; Theo was volunteering at a soup kitchen in Desden, and Danielle had family obligations for the holiday.
Theo looked like a child; a large smile plastered on his face, he’d already staked claim to his spot right next to the puny tree. Danielle was curled up on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her. She was trying to play it cool and pretend she wasn’t half as excited as Theo, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. There was something exciting about opening a gift, especially something so personal that was meant only for you. Chris hovered around the back of the couch, clutching a mug of coffee. He hadn’t even bothered changing out of his red flannel pajama pants and t-shirt. I plopped right down on the floor next to Theo.
“Ah, thank you, Little Bird,” he said. He reached under the tree and grabbed a larger pink gift, handing it over to Danielle.
“For me?” she asked.
“For you,” Theo said.
And then my eyes darted to Chris, and I smiled. I knew what that meant: if Danielle was telling the truth and she’d drawn Chris’s name, and I got Theo, and Theo got Danielle, then that meant that Chris had picked my name. Chris was my Secret Santa.
Danielle was still holding onto the gift she’d brought for Chris, and it was wrapped tightly inside a patterned red and green paper—giant bow and all. She passed it to him, and he passed me mine.
There it was: a box, not-so-neatly wrapped in the same green paper I’d used to wrap Theo’s. The tape was jagged. The paper was ripped and crooked, and there was nothing about it that looked appealing. I couldn’t help but laugh; it didn’t matter what the outside looked like—whatever was on the inside was all that mattered. He’d put his heart into it, and that meant more than he could ever know.
“Okay,” Chris said. “Everyone have their presents?”
“Yup,” I said, and the other two nodded.
“Okay, then let’s open ‘em,” he said. “Three, two, one . . . ”
The sound of tearing paper filled the room, and Danielle was the first to squeal. “Oh, my God! It’s perfect!” She opened a bakery box full of a dozen pink cupcakes, each decorated in pink frosting, and covered with edible pearls. “Theo, thank you! You know I love your cupcakes.”
“Each one’s a different flavor,” he said, and her eyes widened as she looked back down to the box.
Chris was the next person to open his, and his gift from Danielle was exactly what we’d all expected—a bottle of expensive cologne she’d likely gotten on discount from the boutique.
“Let me explain,” she said, biting into a cupcake. “It smells really good, and I’m bad at making stu
ff.”
“That’s your explanation? Did you even try?” Chris asked, looking at the bottle of cologne in his hand.
“Yes,” she lied. “Of course I did.”
“Oh, Little Bird,” Theo said, interrupting the other two. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”
“You like it?” I asked, leaning to get a better look.
“I do,” he said, holding it higher so that the others could see.
“I’m glad,” I said. “I glued my fingers together twice to make that happen.”
It’d come together quite nicely, all those pieces and scraps I’d fused to make him a nest—a tiny empty nest that he could put on display, a reminder that I was out in the world . . . trying to fly.
“What did you get, Sydney?” Danielle asked, leaning over to look at the present I’d only half unwrapped.
I tore the rest of the paper off. Chris took a step forward and sat down on the couch, watching as I lifted a box out of the paper. He stared, his eyes burning on the side of my face. I wanted to tell him to stop—knock it off—because he made my heart flutter, and it unsettled my stomach in the strangest way.
I lifted the lid of the box to reveal the back of a picture frame.
“No, no, no, I thought we had to make the gifts,” Danielle said, as if she couldn’t believe he’d defied the rules.
“I did,” Chris said. “I had all the pieces I needed—took a piece of glass from one of Gran’s old pictures.”
I pulled the frame out, turning it over. Behind the glass, there were two things: the ticket stubs from our carousel ride, and a glossy photo copy of the picture we’d taken moments before the ride took off. I stared at the two smiling faces staring back at me, loving the way we looked next to one another.
I passed it to Theo, only so that I could move. I rushed across the room, and Chris stood from the couch.
“I thought you’d want some memories you didn’t have to shove in your shoe,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “I had the frame finished last week, but I kept waiting for the right moment to take a picture to put it in.”
Running Scared (Letters From Morgantown Book 1) Page 21
