Page 23 of Suddenly Entwined

With Lou on his hip, he stands, clasping my hand and hoisting me up with no effort.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“You can go back to hosting your party.”

I dab at the mud on my face with my sleeve, probably smearing it worse.

“Pretty sure the party is over now.”

Many of the cars in the small lot have left, and I see Milly’s mom marching ahead of her daughter back toward their vehicle. I’m ready to leave too. I’m cold and uncomfortable and embarrassed.

“Wait.” Berg glances around as though thinking of something to say. “I didn’t get you your hot chocolate. At least let me get you warmed up.”

“No, I’m fine. I want to go home and get cleaned up.”

He opens his mouth again, but I trudge toward the fence, climbing over it in all my muddy glory. Chris clasps my bad shoulder as he helps me down and I barely disguise my hiss of pain.

“You okay? Anna and I showed up right as everything was going down.”

“Never seen him run that fast,” Anna adds, swiping a bead of water off my chin and flicking it to the ground. “You did perfect.”

“I’ll add it to my resume,” I tell him, forcing a smile.

Someone amongst the stragglers passes me a pack of baby wipes I accept with a curt nod as I head for my car. The gravel drive toward the road seems endless. My cheeks burn hot with humiliation as I try to ignore the whispers of the remaining parents milling about. I definitely avoid eye contact with Milly’s mom. None of that would have even happened if her daughter didn’t climb the fence and egg Louisa on. I have to clench my teeth to keep from chewing her out. I will not get into a verbal altercation with a stranger, even if they deserve it. I know that it could have been a lot worse, and I’m so relieved Louisa is safe, but landing in a mud puddle in front of my handsome landlord and all his friends wounded my ego. Chris asked me how she got over the fence in the first place, and what if Berg is wondering the same thing?

Chapter ten

Berg

Itransfer a soaking wet Louisa into Chris’s arms, then wipe my dirty palms on my jeans.

“Would you watch her for a minute, please?”

“Yeah, I have a blanket in the Jeep,” he says, shifting his attention to my daughter. “Let's get warmed up, ‘kay?”

Lou told me everything. How Milly climbed over the fence like she owned the place and goaded her into joining. How Caro made sure she was safe.

“Tamara.” I stride through the grass after Milly’s mom, my boots squelching with each step. “Damn it, Tamara, stop.”

I catch up with her in the parking lot as Milly climbs into the back seat. She slams the heavy door of her white SUV and whirls around with a vengeance.

“No,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Uh uh. You don’t get to be mad about this.”

“Don’t tell me what I get to be angry about, Berg. Milly was almost kicked by a donkey.”

“Right. Because she was on what side of the fence again?”

Tamara snorts her disagreement, waving her hand flippantly.

I’m seething. A dozen scenarios playing out in my mind of how this could have been a lot worse. There’s a lump in my throat when I picture a hospital trip. My daughters have always been healthy kids, but when I took Natalie to the ER for croup last year, it took me by surprise how much being in the hospital environment affected me. Nobody likes hospitals, I know that, but losing your wife at age thirty-three makes medical emergencies that much worse.

“Louisa told me that Milly encouraged her to climb over. She’s older. She should know better.”

“They’re kids. And maybe that woman should have been watching them better.”

“What woman? Carolina? Carolina wasn’t here to babysit. She’s a guest.”

One with a handmade invitation.

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