Page 37 of Taking What's Ours

I wrangle it up on to his carrier and help him strap it down.

He offers his hand. “Thank you. Name’s Buck.”

“Dylan. Nice to meet you, Buck. You come here often?”

“Used to. I’m turning eighty on Friday. This may be my last summer with this old girl.” He pats the boat.

“Let’s hope not. Happy birthday, Buck.”

He nods and looks back where Elaina stands, then winks. “Got yourself a pretty girl. Don’t waste a day, son. They go by way too fast.”

He climbs into his vehicle, and I return to Elaina.

“That was nice of you.”

I shrug. “Anyone would have done it.”

“I don’t think Elliott would have.”

My smile falls, because she’s right. I think about what that old man just said to me. “It’s his birthday Friday. That old guy’s turning eighty. Can you believe it? Still out kayaking.”

“How nice he got this beautiful day and took advantage of it.”

“That’s kind of the advice he gave me.”

“He gave you advice?”

“Yeah. Told me not to waste a day because they go by too fast.”

“Sounds like good words to live by.”

“They do, don’t they?” I tip my head to the bike. “Come on. I want to show you Main Street.”

It doesn’t take long before I’m backing into a spot. I forgot they kicked off the Fall Festival this week with garlands of fall leaves and tiny orange lights strung across the street, and pumpkins at the entrances to all the shops.

“Wow. This is so cool,” she says.

We wander down the street, and she window shops, until she catches the scent in the air. “Oh, my gosh. Something smells so good.”

“That’s the kettle corn stand.” I nod to the red popup tent next to the gourmet popcorn shop.

Her face lights up. “Can we get some? I love kettle corn.”

“Absolutely.”

There’s a small line, and we wait our turn. A mother in front of us has a baby in her arms and a little girl beside her.

Elaina smiles and waggles her fingers at the baby dressed in a pink knit hoodie. She coos and gives us a toothless grin, drool landing on the cloth her mother has over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you precious?” Elaina says, and the mother turns, smiling. “How old is she?”

“Two months yesterday.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Elaina bends and smiles at the little girl. “And how old are you?”

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