Page 67 of Keeping it Local

“Give me five!” she shouted down the hall.

We had finished putting the finishing touches on all the silent auction materials along with the item write-ups. I didn’t realize how much work would be involved in putting all the packages together and writing up the scripts for Megan to read on stage as she auctioned off the larger items. It was a lot more work than I was expecting, but after spending the last couple hours with Beth, everything was finally done and loaded in boxes by the back door, ready for me to drive over tomorrow.

It was Thursday, the first official night of the festival, and I told Beth we should walk around and scope it out before the big Starlight Night tomorrow. We’d be too busy helping Megan and wouldn’t have time to enjoy everything.

It was also the night I’d tell her I wanted to be with her—whatever that looked like. I figured I’d ask her when we were riding the Ferris wheel. Not that I was a super romantic guy, but I thought that would be a nice way to end the night, and if we ended up having to leave early because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, so be it.

“Okay, let’s go,” Beth said. She had changed from her leggings into a pair of cutoff jeans and a black tank top, hair piled on top of her head, with cowboy boots on her feet.

I let my gaze rake over her body, taking her in.

“You look gorgeous,” I whispered in her ear, before kissing her cheek.

She shivered beneath me.

It was a quick, five-minute drive to the festival, which took up most of the main streets in town, trailing along the edge of the marina in the park.

The sun was low in the sky, but the carnival rides lit up downtown. Taking Beth’s hand, I led her to the booth where I pulled out my wallet and paid for wristbands for us.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on carnival rides,” Beth said, laughing. “What should we do first?”

The next couple hours went by in a blur. We played the old-fashioned carnival games, and I won Beth a stuffed bear. We ate corn dogs down by the marina and listened to the Polka band play while the older residents pushed the ladies around the dance floor. We also went on a few rides. The whole time, all I could think about was figuring out the best way to convince Beth to stay in Port St. Clair. I was prepared for whatever it took. This woman was something special, and I needed to figure out a way to be with her.

I pointed to the Ferris wheel. “Ready for this one?”

We got in line, and as we snaked through the queue, all I could think about was how nervous I was to finally tell Beth how I felt. She took me by surprise, and now, I couldn’t imagine going along without her. I just hoped she felt the same way.

We stepped up to the Ferris wheel bucket, and she climbed in first. It was one of those old-school ones that swung back and forth. The lights bounced off her dark hair, and I wrapped my arm around her while the attendant locked the safety bar.

“This is so much fun!” Beth gripped the handrail, looking out at the harbor as we made our way to the top. “I guess I didn’t realize how big the festival was. I knew it brought in a lot of tourists, but I didn’t really piece it together. It’s pretty much all of downtown.”

I pointed out a few of the local hotspots to her and decided it was now or never.

“Beth, I’ve been meaning to⁠—”

I was cut off when the ride jolted to a stop, the bucket still swinging.

A mass of awww’s came from all around us, and it was then that I realized we weren’t letting anyone on or off. Instead, we were actually stuck on the ride.

“Holy shit!” Beth said. “I think we’re stuck up here.” She poked her head out to the side and looked down.

We were the second bucket to the top, and we could see over the entire festival. The band played in the distance. I could see a sea of white and gray hair dancing in front of the stage, and I chuckled to myself at the choreographed polka dance moves.

“Jeez. Yup, you’re right.”

“I have to say, it’s making me a little uneasy to be stuck up here.” Her gaze darted around below us, and she tensed up next to me.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” She gave me a sheepish look.

“We’re stuck on a Ferris wheel and you’re afraid of heights? Come here.” I pulled her into me and rubbed her back. “You know, we didn’t have to go on the ride. We could have played another game on the ground.”

“But you wanted to ride, and I wanted to go with you,” she said into my chest, half-muffled. “I can’t even look out without hyperventilating.”

“You feeling any better with your head buried in my armpit?”

“Yeah, but don’t go swinging the bucket. This thing feels like a death trap, and the fact that we’re swinging at the top, stopped for who knows how long, doesn’t help.”