Page 56 of Cruel Fate

On my other side, Stella and a woman are chatting, and somehow a baby is drooling in her lap.

The little girl next to me slathers glue onto her gourd using a large, saturated paintbrush. She offers it to me, smiling tentatively, and I accept. Not to be outdone, I coat mine with just as much.

“Now what?” I ask, and she sets five different glitter shakers in front of me. “Which is your favorite color?” She points to the silver canister.

When I’m done, my gourd looks more like a Christmas decoration than something for fall, but the girl’s smile, high-five, and approval makes me grin like an idiot.

Stella elbows me. “Having fun?”

“Yeah.” I kiss the tip of her nose.

I decorate Stella’s gourd, too—more glitter but pink this time—since her hands are full. We give the glue and glitter time to dry and when we walk out of the barn, the sun is starting to set. The day is still bright, but a few parents start to pack up their kids.

“What next?” I ask, waving goodbye to my new friend.

“Let’s go this way. If you want a real pumpkin, let’s do that last so we don’t have to carry it everywhere.”

We walk toward an area that’s filled with huge plastic blow-up games. Some of them are empty, and Stella and I jump in a bounce house shaped like a pink and purple cartoon castle. Theattendant doesn’t care as long as we aren’t stealing time from the kids, and fifteen minutes later, I’m out of breath and light-headed.

On our asses, we scoot out on the mini slide in the back, and I sit next to Stella in the grass.

I kiss her, thankful she’s in my life. She’s opening me up to new adventures, normal people activities, and they ground me. They help me see what’s important.

Arguing with Denton and Cramer about the company isn’t important. Keeping Ash from getting his panties in a twist over Stella isn’t important. Doing what would make my parents proud of me is what’s important. Keeping Zarah on track to become a woman who would make Mom and Dad proud is what’s important.

Stella’s important.

Loving her and being a man who deserves her is important.

Kindness.

Integrity.

Planting roots.

A little boy creeps around the corner of the bounce house and sees us kissing. He covers his eyes, giggling.

I crack up and Stella laughs, and I fall back into the soft grass, the growl of the engine keeping the game inflated filling my ears with static. For once, my mind is clear, and I think to go back to the office on Monday having a renewed vision for the company.

“What’s left?” I ask, lying on the ground.

“Pumpkin patch. The petting zoo, if you want to go again before we leave.”

We slowly walk toward the petting zoo. Stella searches in her purse for quarters, and the crumpled, recycled grocery store plastic bag that holds our decorated gourds swings from her arm. I feed the animals more pellets, and when she insists shedoesn’t have any more change, I hold her hand and we wander to our last stop.

A portion of field has been set aside to create a makeshift pumpkin patch, and I can choose any sized pumpkin I want.

Stella cautions me, “We have a long way back. Nothing too heavy.”

I scoff, and she shakes her head in amusement. I can’t take her seriously—she’s trying hard not to laugh. Her flimsy warning doesn’t stop me, and I start the hunt. More people snap my photo, and Stella’s, and I know we’ll be flashed all over social media later.

Stella sits on a hay bale looking like a country angel. She twists her hair into a bun to lift it off her neck, and she turns into a queen on a throne made of hay. People take her picture because we’re together, and because she’s so beautiful.

I won’t let gawkers and gossips ruin our day, and I go back to picking out the perfect pumpkin, throwing my tie over my shoulder so it’s not hanging in my way. I’m not the only one to treat it like a life-or-death situation. Soon, me and a couple of other manly men have been at it for longer than necessary, but Stella sits patiently watching me hunt, turn over pumpkins to inspect all their sides, consider, and move on.

I’m down to two, and she sighs. “I’ll help you carry.”

I grin, pleased. I wanted both but couldn’t handle them on the bus. If I would have known how much fun we were going to have, I would have driven us here, but the buses and train are part of the adventure.

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