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"Oh my god, I want to go on everything!" I said, kneeling to the girls' level. "What shall we do first? The Ferris wheel? The drop slide?" I looked at Cole. "Isn't this great?"
"Sure is," he replied. "Lots of very expensive rides that last two minutes, and rigged games designed to steal your cash."
"Daddy," whined Rhea. "You promised not to be sarcastic about the fair."
"Me? Sarcastic?" Cole said as sarcastically as it was possible to be. "You must have me confused with someone else."
Lexi jumped up and down. "I want to shoot stuff! I want to win all the soft toys!"
My eyes narrowed. "Lexi, I'm going to teach you my tricks."
As the four of us headed to the game booth, I marveled at how natural and right it felt to be together. I had always taken for granted that one day I'd have kids but imagined it happening in my mid-to-late thirties, once my career was established and life had settled down.
Now, obviously, Lexi and Rhea weren't my kids. But in my weaker moments, I felt this overwhelming broody feeling around them. Like it would be so, so easy to settle down with Cole and be part of the girls' lives while having a couple more of our own. Two boys, to balance out the estrogen in the house. That would be . . . something.
Dangerous thoughts. Very dangerous thoughts.
The shooting range stall was one of those old-fashioned carnival games, complete with a backdrop of a fictional Wild West town and a long row of unblinking cowboy cutouts.
"All right, let's see if you can shoot 'em all down!" the man behind the counter said. "Who's going first?"
"Me! Me! Me!" Rhea said, her hand shooting up like lightning.
Cole paid the man three bucks, and he handed Rhea a rifle.
I put my hand on her shoulder and leaned down to her. "Okay, Rhea, sweetie, listen to me for a second," I said, my voice gentle and reassuring. "You've got to keep your arm steady, like a statue, and keep your eye on the target." I demonstrated for her, showing her exactly how to hold her arm and where to position her head. "Now, take a deep breath and slowly exhale as you pull the trigger. Remember, it's all about focus."
Rhea nodded at me, then stood absolutely stock still, holding the airgun tight into her shoulder, just like I showed her.
She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then slowly exhaled, as I'd instructed. She pulled the trigger.
A quiet "pop" sounded as the pellet flew out, and the target balloon popped.
"I did it!" Rhea flapped her arms around and squealed, jumping for joy.
"Holy shit," Cole said, his eyes wide with pride. "That was amazing, Rhe!"
The man working the stall didn’t smile. "Well done," he said grimly. "One hit gets you one of these small plushies." He pointed at a row of rather sad-looking teddy bears.
My eyes narrowed. "How many hits do we need for that one?" I pointed up at a huge panda plushie that was about as big as Rhea.
"Five hits out of five," he said, crossing his arms.
"Daddy, Daddy," Rhea said. "Can you do it?"
Before Cole could answer, I raised my hand. "I'll do it for you, girls."
Cole grinned a cocky grin. "Don't you think I'd be better suited for the task? I mean I'm a retired SEAL after all."
"Cole," I said, "I'm grateful for your service, I really am. But I've got a lifetime of hitting these targets under my belt." I leaned in close to him and whispered: "You know those stuffed toys in my room? That embarrassingly large collection?"
He nodded.
"I won them all at this funfair."
He nodded, seemingly impressed. "Well, Annie Oakley, I'll defer to your experience."
Suddenly feeling the pressure, I took the rifle from Rhea.
