Page 72 of Over and Above

“Hey, Jonas! If you feel lucky, there’s a motorcycle duck.” Shelby clearly sensed another sale in the making.

“All the cool kids are doing it.” Sean and I both held up our ducks.

“Fine.” Jonas stepped forward to take a turn at the game. As I watched him throw, Eric came striding over.

“There you are.” He smiled broadly as if he truly missed my presence. “Did my friends kidnap you?”

“I went willingly.” I smiled back, feeling freer than I had in weeks. “Won you a duck.”

“I love it,” Eric said as I placed the duck in his hand. He admired the duck’s little painted-on outfit by running a thumb over the stethoscope. “Thank you.”

“I won a cake for Maren and Diesel.” Wren walked over, holding up a small pink cake.

“Was it a hard game?” I asked as Eric accepted the cake, letting the duck ride on top of the plastic wrap around the plate.

“It was acakewalk.” Wren delivered the joke perfectly to much laughter from the whole group. I glanced around at all the smiling faces, feeling more included than I had in prior years in Mount Hope. I flashed back to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the baby shower. I was one of them now, and maybe, just maybe, things were indeed meant to work out.

“Dad. You forgot the football sticker you won.” John jogged up with a small, shiny sticker for Eric. He offered me a nod. “Hey, Magnus. Glad you came.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you going to take a throw for the team?” He gestured back at the football booth where the long line had died down.

“He just won a duck on his second try,” Sean volunteered, giving me a gentle shove forward. “Only missed one ball. Dude has an arm.”

“An arm, you say?” Tony left the football booth to join Sean in leading me forward. He wore a red sweatshirt with the wordCoach, and from his determined strides, I could see why the kids all listened to him. He had me set up with three small foam footballs in short order. The targets were hearts of varied sizes and heights, the sort of game designed to look easy while posing a challenge in the deceptive angle of the targets.

“What do I win if I hit all three targets?” I asked

“If you miss all three, you get a sticker.” Eric held up his consolation prize.

“Hit all three, and you can win your choice of Valentine’s bears.” Tony indicated a row of large stuffed bears, all wearing mini Mount Hope Football shirts while holding either balloons, a bag of candy, or a box of chocolates.

“Fair enough.” I studied the targets more closely, planning my attack.

“No pressure.” Eric shifted the cake to one hand so he could give me a fast pat on the back. “I’m good with my duck.”

Naturally, his—our—entire friend group had gathered to watch me throw, along with John and Wren. No pressure. But suddenly, I truly wanted to win my guy a prize in front of what felt like the whole damn town. I breathed deeply, returning to the past again, but this time as a source of strength rather than bittersweet memories.

Bang. Bang. Bang.I hit all three targets, a little luck mixed with my skill, and blew on my knuckles to get another laugh from the crowd.

“Well, go pick your valentine.” I motioned Eric forward.

“Think I already have.” He gave me a pointed look, more heat in his gaze than I would have expected given the public place. Our retreat to the carriage house couldn’t come soon enough.

“Did Wren tell you I’m staying at Elliot’s?” John asked, tone deceptively casual as Eric examined the lineup of bears.

“Oh?”

“Your dogs are already in the house.” His voice was serious as he held my gaze. Something passed between us. Not exactly permission. Respect. That was it. An acknowledgment of sorts. He nodded. “You might as well sleep there too.”

“Noted,” I said gruffly, throat rough and itchy. “Thank you.”

“All right, I picked a bear, but you’re carrying it back.” Eric pointed to the gaudiest of the bunch, one that held a rainbow Pride balloon, along with a bag of conversation hearts. “I’ve got the cake to manage.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” I said without thinking.

“Do you now?” Eric tilted his head. I could easily play the moment off with a laugh, but I was tired of playing it safe. Like Diesel had observed, that wasn’t my style.

---