Page 122 of Born to Make You Smile

THIRTY-SEVEN

On the afternoon ofGavin’s forty-seventh birthday, we left work early and headed to High Park for a picnic lunch. The sun was warm, and a pleasant cool breeze toyed with my curls. The birds sang their harmonious tunes. Signs that spring and love were in the air.

We strolled through, eventually finding a shady spot on the grass, where I laid out a fleece blanket. After smoothing my magenta polka-dot sundress, I had a seat next to Gavin. A few moments passed, and I removed my sandals, digging my bare feet into the grass, letting the cool, damp blades massage and tickle my toes. The air was infused with the fresh aroma of sun, and I couldn’t help but inhale, letting the serenity of the outdoors flow through me.

“This is beautiful, Grace. Thank you for planning this.”

“Happy birthday.” I gave him a quick kiss, then gestured to the cooler. “I hope you’re hungry!”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, actually. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

I opened the cooler and took out several containers of food—cucumber sandwiches, chicken wraps, chorizo sausage rolls, bean salad, and fresh berries.

“Wow, this is incredible,” he exclaimed, looking at all the food. “When did you make all this?”

“Yesterday and early this morning.” I flashed him a proud smile. “Enjoy, my love.”

As we had lunch, I people watched. A woman sketching trees held me captive for a moment. My eyes focused on a couple pushing two children in a double stroller, and it filled me with a wistful excitement, envisioning our future. The girls. Our own children. At one point, I noticed a tall, lanky man holding an excessive bundle of colorful balloons in the distance.

“That’s not for me, is it?” Gavin asked, looking worried.

I laughed. “No! Of course not. What would we do with all those? We’d float away.”

He chuckled. “I’m surprised that young man is managing to stay on the ground.”

As he said that, the balloon man began to walk toward us. Perhaps he was selling them?

Gavin waved to him. “Young man with the balloons, over here!”

“What are you doing?” I whispered through my teeth.

“Hello, sir,” the balloon man said in a crisp English accent. “Would you be interested in buying a balloon for your lovely lady?”

“How much?” Gavin asked, going into his wallet. “For all of them?”

I put a hand on his wrist. “Gavin...seriously. No.”

“By golly, are you the world-famous dentist Dr. Gavin Brinley?”

“Why yes, I am.” Gavin straightened, nodding proudly.

What the hell is going on here?

“I’m your biggest fan. Tell you what. I’ll give you all these balloons for free.”

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Gavin.

“But,” the man said with an exaggerated pout, “there are some rules.”

“Rules?” I repeated. This was getting stranger by the second.

“First. These balloons can’t leave the park. So you have to pop them all before you go.”

Now I was really confused. But I guess it was a good thing since there was no way in hell those were all fitting into his car.

“Second, they have to be popped in order by color. Purple, yellow, red, then blue.”

My brows furrowed, and I let out a confused laugh. “What? Why?”

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