Page 25 of Backward Motion

Connor made a face. “I don’t usually go to stuff like that.”

“I don’t usually go to football games.”

Connor ducked his head and let out a soft laugh. “Fair point.”

“Truthfully,” Sam said with a squirm of discomfort. “I’m not good with kids.”

“No?”

“They make me nervous.”

“You know they can smell fear.”

“Exactly.” Sam held a palm to his chest and batted his eyes like a fifties starlet. “I’m done for.” Even though Connor knew he was hamming it up, Sam’s damsel-in-distress impression had the intended effect.

“Well?” Sam nudged. “Will you help me?”

Connor hated town events. If he hadn’t already felt like an outsider, watching smiling families pose for photos and couples holding hands and feeding each other cotton candy certainly would have done the trick. In the past, he’d made every effort to avoid them. But that was before someone in town could get him to go anywhere with the slightest flutter of his eyelashes. For Sam, Connor would endure an endless parade of grinning families and lovesick couples.

He stopped by his apartment after work to shower and change before making his way to the festival. Oakdale’s town square had been transformed into an autumnal wonderland of string lights and bushel baskets. There were booths selling hot cider and homemade baked goods and others manned by residents hawking artisanal candles and knitted potholders. Interspersed among the stalls was a selection of carnival games where punters could bob for apples or try their hand at outdoor Skee-Ball.

As Connor approached the bustling square, he felt a familiar sense of unease. He scanned the crowd, hoping no one would notice him or remark on how unusual it was to see him there. He couldn’t spot Brian or the kids, so he pulled out his phone and was about totext Sam when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Sam standing behind him, a wide smile on his face.

“Hello, stranger.”

Connor was midway through returning the smile when his eyes dropped to Matty, at Sam’s side, who was pulling on his hand with unbridled enthusiasm. Seconds later, Brian and Jules were upon them, a sleeping Ellie tucked into the carrier strapped to Jules’s chest.

“There he is.” Brian gave Connor a slap on the back. “Sam told us he’d called in backup.”

“And for a moment there, I thought I was home free.” Connor reached over to give Jules a hug, careful not to jostle the sleeping baby. “Long time no see, Jules.”

“Ditto. Heard work’s been busy. But it looks like you’ve picked up an extra set of hands.” She angled her head toward Sam, who was being pulled toward the ring toss by a very eager four-year-old.

“Come on. We don’t want them to have all the fun,” Brian said and ambled after his son.

The ring toss turned competitive, as did the Nerf-shooting gallery, where Sam emerged the clear winner.

“You’re a decent shot, Bryant,” Connor remarked as Sam collected his prize from the vendor—a plush pink giraffe, which he gifted to Matty.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Wouldn’t have picked it, is all.”

“I know my way around a loaded gun,” Sam said with a smirk, and Connor almost choked on his laugh.

Matty was getting hungry, so they headed over to a stand selling hot dogs and curly fries. As they walked, Connor and Sam hung back from the group. “It’s weird how great he is at this, right?” Sam murmured as Brian lifted a pouting Matty onto his shoulders. “I mean, the Brian I remember was always barefoot and hungover.”

“I know,” Connor said. “You should have seen him when Matty was born. He kept this hourly schedule of his feedings and tracked every diaper change. He’d plot it all on this giant graph and show me whenever I came over. I was like, ‘Dude, that’s a little intense.’”

Sam gave an appreciative murmur. “But cute.”

“Fucking adorable.”

After eating, Brian and Jules went to take Matty for a pony ride while Connor tried his hand at the high striker. He was secretly pleased to hit a ninety-one on his first try. He heard a click behind him as Sam took a photo and lowered the mallet in defense.

“Hey, I’m off duty.”

“Work hard, play hard, right?” Sam said.