Page 11 of Heartstrings & Horizons
“How about some funnel cake?”
“YES!” she says, pumping her fist in the air before all but dragging me along the sidewalk. We’re getting closer to the food trucks when we nearly run smack dab into Julie, who's already got a massive plate with a funnel cake smothered in caramel and powdered sugar. I can see the hearts in Maddie’s little eyes, and I know I’ve been replaced.
Leaving my niece to devour her treat, I make my way towards the apple ciderbooth, waving at my friend Miles and his latest hookup.
Days like this are a reminder of why I love my hometown so much, but they can also be kind of lonely. Sure, I’m surrounded by friends and family, but sometimes I wish I had someone to walk with me from booth to booth, share candied apples, carve a pumpkin, and take on hayrides. I’m not usually so contemplative, but something was starting to shift in my bones. My phone promptly snaps me out of my thoughts.
Paige: You should come with a warning.
Cade: Yeah? What would it say?
Paige: Dangerous flirt: Approach with caution
I settle on a hay bale with my cider, then tap on her contact. The evening air sends a chill through my spine, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun sinks below the horizon, bringing to life the string lights overhead.
After a few rings, Paige’s face comes into view.
“Hey, Cowboy! What’s up?”
“I’m hanging out at the fall festival. Thought you might want to see.” I honestly have no idea why I called, but it felt like the next logical thing to do after our flirty texts.
“Yes! Show me everything!” Her face beams with excitement, her dimples are out in full force, and there's a twinkle in her eyes that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before. “Fall is my favorite.”
With a quick flip of the camera, the bustling festival scene comes into view, complete with colorful decorations and lively music.
“Ok, so we’re at Whispering Oaks Ranch. Over there,” I say, pointing towards the food trucks, “is the best place to get funnel cakes, candied apples, and every kind of pumpkin flavored dessert you can think of.”
“My mouth is watering. I would kill for a slice of pumpkin pie,” she says.
“I’m more of an apple pie guy, myself. But at least we wouldn’t have to share.” I tease.
I sweep the camera over to another busy area with the pony rides, sack races, face painting, and pumpkin carving. “This is every kid’s favorite spot. My niece Maddie made a b-line for the pony rides earlier. You should’ve seen the smile on her face.”
Paige gets a nostalgic look in her eyes. “I would’ve loved that as a kid. I have this picture of me and my brother on a pony when we were little. It’s my favorite.”
I take her around to several more areas and she remarks on how lively and welcoming it is. Every few yards, the tour is interrupted by the locals milling about.
“Ok, Mr. Popular,” she snorts after something like the 10th person stops me to say hello.
“The hazards of living in a small town. Everybody knows everybody.”
“I love it. Being a small fish in a big pond isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she says, and I wonder if maybe she isn’t entirely happy living in Toronto. Tamping down on the urge to ask her about it, I keep moving through the crowd, searching out a quieter spot, the camera now focused back on my face, dimly lit by the string lights.
“Oak Ridge is small, but it has a lot of heart. The people here always look out for each other, ready to lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A cowboy hat, even,” I say with a wink.
Paige smiles but there’s a far off look in her eyes.
“Paige? Are you okay?” She snaps out of her haze, eyes focusing back on the camera.
“I’d love to see it someday,” she says. “Oak Ridge, I mean.”
“Ready when you are, Sunshine.”
A brief silence follows as my words hang in the air. Something heavy passes between us — an unspoken understanding mixed with a shared longing that neither of us would dare acknowledge. We linger in the silence, our eyes locked through the screen, the weight of my words creating a palpable tension, a glimmer of something beautiful just out of reach.
Chapter 5
Paige
