28. Chapter 28
Seth
Saturday mornings usually meant catching up on paperwork or tinkering with small projects around the house. Quiet, predictable things I could control. But this morning was different.
Madison had mentioned the state fair in passing when Blair picked Olive up, her tone wistful, like she hadn’t really expected to go.
Olive, of course, latched onto the word fair with all the enthusiasm only a four-year-old could muster.
Cotton candy, rides, balloons, her eyes had gone wide just imagining it.
And somehow, before I’d thought it through, I’d offered to take them.
Now, walking through the fairgrounds with Olive perched on my shoulders, sticky fingers tangled in my hair, I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
The air was thick with the smell of fried dough and popcorn, music spilling from the carousel, voices overlapping in a constant hum.
Madison walked beside me, sunglasses perched on her nose, her hand occasionally brushing against mine as the crowd pressed in.
She looked different out here, lighter, looser.
Her laugh came easier, and I caught myself watching her more than I should’ve.
Olive squealed and pointed toward the Ferris wheel. “That one! I wanna go up there!”
I shifted her carefully down into my arms. “You sure? It’s pretty high.”
“I’m brave,” she declared, chin lifted.
Madison laughed, brushing a curl from Olive’s forehead. “She gets that from me.”
I caught Madison’s eyes for a second too long, something unspoken passing between us. Then, Olive tugged at my hand, pulling me toward the ride.
We piled into the gondola, the three of us crammed together, and as the cart lifted off the ground, Olive pressed her face to the bars, squealing with delight. Madison sat stiff beside me at first, clutching the rail, until the breeze picked up and the view opened out across Wisteria Creek.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I said quietly.
She turned to look, the tension in her shoulders softening as she took in the patchwork of fields, rooftops, and the shimmer of the creek beyond. “Yeah. It really is.”
For a moment, it felt like the world shrank around us, the hum of the fair below, Olive’s laughter, and the warmth of Madison’s shoulder brushing mine.
Later, Olive dragged us from booth to booth, her little hand darting between mine and Madison’s, anchoring us together whether we liked it or not.
She squealed when she won a stuffed bear at the ring toss, mostly thanks to me, and insisted I carry it for her.
Madison shook her head, laughing at the sight of me with a ridiculous pink bear tucked under my arm.
“You’re not as scary as you want people to think,” she teased.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I muttered, but I couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at the corners of my mouth.
We ended the day with ice cream, Olive’s cheeks sticky with chocolate, Madison’s hair mussed by the breeze, and me feeling something I hadn’t in a long time, at ease. Like I belonged.
Walking back to the truck, Olive asleep in my arms, Madison glanced up at me. Her voice was soft, almost lost in the night air. “You’re good with her, you know. With both of us.”
I swallowed hard, shifting Olive gently against my chest. “Don’t get used to it.”
But the truth settled heavily inside me; I wanted her to.