Page 27 of Fake Spring Fling

It only takes three items for Molly to decide on chicken fingers and sweet potato fries.

Ella returns with our drinks and takes our order. Madison orders a salad with her burger, knowing she’ll be eating Molly’s leftover fries. Along with a few of my onion rings. Okay, maybe all of them. She’s only twelve weeks along but the pregnancy hunger pangs are already hitting. I can’t help but wonder if that means our second child will be a boy.

Once Molly begins scribbling a bright blue sky over a crowd of perky farm animals, I reach out to stroke Madison’s cheek, my wedding band catching a sunbeam through the window. “Been an interesting few years, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. It really has.” She mouths the words, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I mouth back.

Molly looks back and forth between us. “Ewww! You’re...mushyingagain!”

“Well, we’re mushy people, sweetie,” Madison laughs.

I turn to Molly. “You know, your mommy was sitting in this very booth when I first met her.” I point to the table across the room. “And I was sitting right there, and I turned around, and that’s when I saw how beautiful she was.”

Molly looks back and forth between us, puzzled. “You didn’t know Mommy?”

“No, not yet.”

Her little nose wrinkles. “Oh. I thought you were together forever.”

Madison reaches across the table and takes my hand, her eyes shining. “We definitely are now.”

* * *

You’ll meet Claudia again inFake Summer Wife.

You’ll have coffee at The Tiny Goat Cafe in theSpring Heatseries.

And if you’re into hulking, grumpy mountain men, check outRescued by the Surly Woodsman…

* * *

Sage

I line up my shot,zooming in as much as I can without distortion, then slowly walk closer.

I scream as my foot slides out from under me and sideways into a jagged branch. The wood pierces right through my sneaker and into my skin, while I land on my butt, hard.

The warbler looks down at me, blinks, then flies away at top speed.

Ow ow freakin' OW.

At least my camera landed on my stomach instead of on the ground. I take a moment to catch my breath, my foot already throbbing with a sickening, stabbing pain. My butt and hip begin to ache.

The sun dips over the mountain, and the forest darkens as if someone had turned down a dimmer switch. And I haven't heard anyone else out here on the trails over the past hour or so.

Tears prick my eyes. Why couldn't this have happened this morning, when there were a ton of hikers around?

I pack away my camera safely, then take a deep breath and try to stand.Owww.Seriouslybad idea. Putting any weight on that foot makes the open wound rub against the torn canvas. Plus, it's so slippery right here that I might fall on my face next time.

"Hello?" I holler in the direction of the trail.

No answer. There is a huge boulder directly between me and the trail, and I can't exactly shout straight through it. Still, I'll have to try.

I scream my head off for five minutes straight until my voice gives out and I start to sound like an old blues singer.

Then thunder rumbles in the distance, sending a shiver up my spine.

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