Page 33 of Fall Over You

She grins. “You know what they say, though. Stronger together.”

I lick some salt from the rim of my margarita glass, letting that thought sink in. “Something like that.”

THIRTEEN

TYLER

“Daddy, look! Goats!”

Ellie is so pumped up that a little bit of apple cider sloshes out of her cup. “I see! And it looks like Ada’s over there too! Should we go pet ‘em?”

Dustin waves at me from the goat enclosure and, hand in hand, Ellie and I walk his way.

“See? Isn’t this awesome?” Dusty asks.

I inhale and look around. Bushel baskets of apples. Stacks of pumpkins. Scarecrows and lightly spooky things. A bounce house, horses for petting and riding, and as Ellie noticed, goats. If you did a search for “fall festival,” this is what would come up. I have to give credit where it’s due: Becca put together a hell of a festival.

“It’s an autumn explosion, alright.”

Dusty tips his head. “Like Becca would do anything less than too much.”

We both chuckle at that, and I realize the mention of her name makes me want to turn my face away from him. I can’t believe I just blurted it all out there, forcing an absurd proposal over text. I’m here, but I’m not sure if I’m dreading or looking forward to seeing her. “You seen her yet?”

“Nah, she’s probably swimming in it somewhere. She’s on her feet and busting ass sun-up to sun-down on these days. Why, you trying to avoid her?”

I feel bad that he assumes that, but I guess I’m reaping what I sowed. I’ve been rude every time he talks about Becca for the last few years. “No, I need to thank her for having someone wave us through the gate.”

“Ah, you got the family rate. Free ninety-nine.” Dusty shakes his head. “I wish she’d let me pay. I just try to buy a bunch of stuff while I’m here to make up for it.”

I chew on my lip. Becca gave me the family rate, even after my idea word vomit. “Yeah. That’s my plan too. I’m surprised she even gives me the time of day, much less the family rate.”

“She’s got a big heart. She’s quick to fight but she forgives quick too. She asks about you and Ellie sometimes. No, no, honey, those aren’t rocks.” Dusty rushes to take some goat poop out of Ada’s hands.

After all hands are thoroughly washed, ponies are ridden, and pumpkins are picked, I settle onto a bench by the bounce house. I’m watching both girls while Dusty hits the restroom. A smoker’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Well, well, well. Of all the pumpkin patches in the world, mine gets blessed with Big Daddy’s presence.”

I close my eyes and prepare to be roasted. “Ellie wanted to come. You conned her into it.”

Becca bobs her head. “I’m sure it took a ton of convincing. Especially when her daddy probably wanted to sit at home and watch paint dry.”

I loll my head her way and she laughs. She’s hauling out the old “Tyler’s boring” line. I have to be boring so my daughter can have a stable life.

She extends an open waxy paper bag to me. “Kettle corn?”

“No thanks,” I say, even though it smells really good.

“Suit yourself,” she says. “You’ll be missing out on one of life’s simplest pleasures.” She pops a kernel in her mouth. “Salty. Sweet. Light and crunchy. Really, you have to try it. Here, catch.”

A popcorn kernel bounces off the side of my face. When I turn to let her know how much I hated that, she has another piece at the ready, opening her mouth to instruct me to open mine. When I scowl at her, she tosses the kernel over her own head and catches it between those glossed lips with ease. “You’re missing out.”

“Fine, give me a piece.” I stick my hand down in the bag and pull out a small handful, letting them drop onto my tongue. She’s right: the perfect dance of sweet and salty rolls across my tastebuds. “It’s pretty good,” I admit.

“Has to be. Sugar keeps ‘em coming back for more, and I need to keep this place afloat. I got chickens to feed.” Ellie catches her eye and gives an emphatic wave, which Becca returns. “Keep bouncing! I’ll squeeze ya when your turn’s up! Do a trick for me!”

Ellie bounces in a circle to Becca’s excited whoop. “So, anyway, how long are you going to avoid talking about the marriage hand grenade you threw at me over text?”

I wince. What the hell was I thinking? “I was just spitballing?”