Hey Sunshine (27 page)

A few moments passed while I pushed my ketchup-covered food around on my plate, and when the overall tension in the bar seemed to ease, I glanced up at Fox.

“Maybe we aren’t all adults,” he admitted.

“I hate to say I told you so, but…” I trailed off, shrugging. My heart finally returned to its normal rhythm once Fox’s jaw unclenched, and I naively hoped that Chase would get over his bruised ego before we next saw him.

“He’s not going to let this go.” Fox was reading my mind as usual. “At least, not anytime soon.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.” Chase seemed especially upset this afternoon, and I hated to think that eventually he and Fox would have a real confrontation.

Fox reached across the table to take my hand again. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.” His brow creased for a second. “Did Lucky really call me Backdraft?”

A real laugh burst from my lips at the sight of his annoyed face, and then his dimple popped and suddenly everything was okay again.

* * *

“Annabelle, slow down!” I complained as she tugged on my hand. “We’ll see everything, I promise.”

Annabelle stopped obediently and waited for me to pull my wallet from my purse at the ticket booth. The county fair bustled all around us, lights flashing, rides spinning, and delicious smells wafting from every direction.

“I want to see the pigs!” she cried. “And go on the Ferris wheel! And get some cotton candy!”

Fox already had cash out and was exchanging it for what looked like an obscene amount of game and ride tickets. I poked him in the side and waved the wallet that I’d finally managed to procure.

“I have money,” I protested.

“Great,” he said. “Use it to buy yourself something nice. I’m taking my girls to the fair.” He swung Annabelle up to perch on his shoulders and took my hand. “Let’s go!”

I laughed and shook my head. “Where to, Annabelle?

“The piggies!” she cried, pointing to the livestock barn.

I had been worried that the incident with Chase earlier today would put a damper on our evening at the fair, but Fox never mentioned it after we left Lucky’s. I was still irritated at Chase for acting like a bully and trying to call Fox out when in reality he was the one who’d been in the wrong, but I tried to brush it off so we could have a good time.

After we saw the animals, Annabelle wanted to play games, so we headed over to the fairway where all the carnival games were lined up on either side.

“Which one should we try first?” Fox asked her.

Annabelle scrunched up her face as she considered. “That one!” She pointed to the ring toss.

Fox let her go through about a billion tickets all down the row before he took over, switched games to the bottle-breaking booth, and quickly brought home the bacon in the form of what else: a stuffed pig.

“How about we all go on the carousel?” Fox suggested.

Annabelle picked her horse and insisted that Fox buckle the pig in with her. “You sit here, Mama!” she said, pointing to the horse on her left.

“What about you?” he asked me. “Need a little help?”

I grinned at him as he slid his hands around my waist and tightened the seatbelt. His fingers brushed over my thigh and we locked eyes just as the ride started to spin.

“Aren’t you going to grab a horse?” I asked him.

“I think I’m fine right here.”

When we got off the carousel, I wasn’t sure if I was dizzy from the up-and-down motion of the horse or the way Fox’s eyes hadn’t left mine until he had to unbuckle Annabelle and gently lift her to the ground. She looked so happy, walking and holding his hand, clutching her prize. I knew I’d remember this night for a long time.

“Mama, I’m going to name my pig Wilbur, like the story,” she said, referring to the picture book version of
Charlotte’s Web
I’d bought for her.

“Wilbur is a great name,” I told her.

“He’s sad, though,” she said.

“He is?”

“Yes, very sad,” she said mournfully, her head down.

Fox glanced at me questioningly and I shrugged. You never knew with Annabelle. She had a very active imagination for three years old.

“Why is he sad?” I couldn’t wait to see where this was going.

“He really wants some cotton candy.”

Fox gave me a side eye and I tried not to laugh.

“Well, we can fix that. I’ll go get us some, okay?” he offered.

“Yay!” Annabelle cried. “Wilbur will be so glad!”

Fox gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded, and he walked away toward the brightly lit concession stands.

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel while we wait for Wilbur’s snack, Annabelle.” I gestured to the group gathered outside the smaller kid’s version of the popular fair ride.

“Okay!” she said excitedly.

We approached the operator and I handed him two tickets.

“You have to ride in the same bucket with her,” he said, looking us over with a bored expression. “She’s too little to ride alone.”

“Avery!”

I heard someone call my name close behind me, and when I turned around, I was face to face with Chase.

“Twice in one day… to what do I owe the honor?” he slurred. “Where’s your boyfriend? Lose him already?”

“This isn’t the time or the place, and you know it. If you want to talk, we’ll do it privately. Later.” I felt Annabelle clinging to me, hiding behind my legs, but I didn’t want to turn my attention away from Chase and his volatile mood.

“I can’t believe you’d lie down for him so quickly, Avery,” Chase said angrily. “After all you put me through? How patient I was? How I waited for you even though I had plenty of other offers?”

“I’m sorry, what? You waited for me? Is that what you call what you were doing at that girl’s house? WAITING? You really are an asshole, Chase. Leave me alone.” I moved to brush past him, but he caught my arm.

“Don’t walk away from me! You’re making a huge mistake, you stupid bitch. Fox isn’t here to stay, I promise you that. You’ll come running back to me and I’ll just laugh at you this time.” Chase’s handsome face was twisted, ugly, as he sneered at me.

I wrenched my arm out of his grasp. “Please don’t hold your breath. And you know nothing about Fox, so shut your mouth!” Almost involuntarily, my hand flew back and I slapped his face.

“DAMN IT!” he roared.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fox loping toward us. The next few seconds were a blur. In his drunken rage, Chase kicked the gate, then reached out and yanked the emergency handle of the carnival ride, bending the rusty metal and sending the kiddie Ferris wheel to an abrupt, screeching halt.

I heard a thin scream and then “MAMA!” and my heart skipped two beats. I whirled around, looking for Annabelle at my side, but she was gone. Frantically, my eyes skipped over a dozen children in the immediate vicinity until I heard her voice again.

“MAMA!”

Looking up, I saw Annabelle at the top of the Ferris wheel, where the jarring motion of the ride’s stop had caused her to slip out of her bucket and fly forward. She was now dangling half-in, half-out of her seatbelt, her little arm bent at an impossible angle as she tried to hang on, her sneakers scrambling for purchase on the rusty metal. I could see a small trickle of blood starting to run down her cheek.

“ANNABELLE!” I screamed.

“MAMA!” she cried. “MAMA!”

Fox was at the Ferris wheel in an instant. The ride wasn’t full, and luckily all the other children were in lower buckets and could safely get out. Their parents rushed around, plucking them from the seats and herding them out the gate, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Annabelle as she hung more than twenty feet in the air. My heart had restarted and was beating triple time as I hopped the gate and ran to stand below her. My mother hurried to join me and we clasped hands, our argument forgotten.

“What happened? How did she get up there?” my mother asked. Guilt flooded me immediately. While my focus had been on Chase, Annabelle had snuck onto the ride alone.

“ANNABELLE!!” I cried again. “Hold on!”

“MAMA!” she sobbed. Tears were running down her face as she gripped the side of the bucket. “Mama, help!”

My father and Fox were desperately trying to restart the wheel to swing it down and bring Annabelle to safety but the broken handle wouldn’t budge, and Fox ran over to me.

“Fox! She’s hurt!” My legs were shaking and I felt powerless. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to be so careless, and now Annabelle was in danger.

“Avery, listen to me. She’s caught in the seatbelt, and she can’t fall from where she is because she’ll hit that support pole. I have to get to her before the seatbelt gives out. I’m going to climb up and get her, okay?” He held both of my arms and spoke firmly. “We’re going to get her down, Avery. I promise you she will be okay.”

I was trembling, on the verge of a total breakdown, but I looked into his eyes and nodded.

“Annabelle, baby, hold on! Fox is coming to get you!” I yelled to her, trying to keep my voice calm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a crowd had gathered, and I was sure someone had already called for help, but I knew the fire truck wouldn’t get here fast enough to reach Annabelle. She’d already slipped a few more inches. My heart was beating out of my chest but I kept calling out encouragement to her, telling her what a good girl she was and how well she was doing. It was torture listening to her whimper and cry, but I kept my voice as steady as I possibly could.

Fox had started his ascent when we heard another rusty metal creak, and one of the buckets came loose right beneath his feet. Swearing, he looked up at Annabelle and jumped to the ground. He met my father’s eyes for a moment before he spoke, and my dad nodded grimly.

“I can’t reach her. I’m too heavy for this broken-down wheel and I’m afraid it’s going to come crashing down.”

I started to cry in earnest. “What? No! She can’t hold on!”

“Focus, Avery. You have to do it. You have to get her. You’re almost seventy pounds lighter than me, and the ride will hold you. Climb up there, pull her back into the bucket, unbuckle the belt, and then let her drop down on the other side. I’ll be there to catch her.” Fox’s face was gentle, his voice firm, just like that day in the storm. He was good at saving us.

I didn’t stop to think, I just looked up at Annabelle and started to climb. Never was I more thankful for those hours of mandatory high school gymnastics than as I pulled myself from bar to bar. Precious seconds ticked by as the voices below me got farther and farther away, but I focused on her little tearstained face and her fingers gripping the side of the bucket.

I could hear Fox in the background and vaguely registered him following my movements underneath the wheel as I picked my footing. The wheel was fairly simple to climb, but the metal was rusted and the entire ride jolted as I moved upward. When I finally reached the bucket, I pulled myself inside.

“I’m here, Annabelle! Mama’s here! I’ve got you, baby.”

Quickly, I slid my arms under her and pulled and we fell back into the bucket, where I immediately unbuckled the broken seatbelt. The crowd below let out an audible sigh. She was limp and crying but she was whole.

“Oh Annabelle! I’m so sorry!” I sobbed. Her entire life had flashed before my eyes on that climb. From infancy to first steps to yesterday, I relived it all in a few seconds.

“Mama!” she sniffed, holding me tight. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay,” I soothed her.

“Avery!” Fox called. “You have to hurry. Put her over the side and I’ll catch her. I’m right here.”

I looked down, feeling dizzy. Now that I had Annabelle in my arms, I was reluctant to release her. I kissed the top of her head and squeezed her close to my chest, my whole body trembling. I trusted Fox to catch her, I just wasn’t sure if I could bear to let her go.

“Now, Avery!” Fox’s voice was urgent. I heard the creaking metal of the old wheel, and my panic renewed itself. Leaning as far out of the bucket as I could, I held tight to Annabelle’s torso and prepared myself.

Fox was standing right below us, his arms out. “Drop her, Avery! You have to!”

I took a deep breath and let go. It seemed like she fell for a full minute but it was only seconds until Fox’s arms closed safely around her.

“I’ve got her!” he shouted. “She’s okay!” Fox immediately passed Annabelle to my father, who ran with her in his arms to meet the arriving EMTs, my mom right behind him.

“Fox!” I called. “How do I get down?” I tried to block out the distance between myself and the ground, but my adrenaline was waning and I felt weak and tired.

He considered for a brief second before answering. “Come down the same side you dropped her. I’ll be right underneath you.”

The pig. Annabelle would want me to get the pig.
I stuffed Wilbur halfway into my pocket and put one leg over the side of the bucket and started to descend, my hands still shaking. Going down blind was a lot more difficult than climbing up to my frightened child.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” Fox encouraged.

I took another deep breath and felt around for my next foothold. I’d only made it about three feet when the old wheel started to shudder and heave. Terrified, I glanced over my shoulder and saw I was still far from solid ground.

“Fox, it’s collapsing!” I cried. The bar I was standing on detached from the main structure, and my feet started sliding downward. I gripped the pole above me as hard as I could but my hands were clammy and slipped on the metal.

“JUMP, AVERY! Jump! I’m here!” Fox yelled.

One of my hands slipped from the pole and I made a split-second decision.
Just get clear of the wheel
, I thought. Heaving myself backwards and away from the ride, I trusted Fox to catch me in my haphazard fall.

When my body collided with his, we both went down, but his arms cradled me and he shifted, protecting me from the worst of the impact. I wanted to lie there for a minute and catch my breath, but Fox got to his feet quickly, urging me to stand. The wheel was making horrible sounds, metal creaking and snapping, and we were directly underneath it. It was a dangerous place to be and we didn’t have much time. I let Fox drag me up, my hipbone protesting where I'd fallen, and he quickly tugged me away from the broken Ferris wheel.