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Her head tilts to the side. “I thought you’d never been to afair?”
Girl is smart for a six-year-old.
“I’ve been toDisney.”
She bounces in her seat. “Me, too! Mommy and Daddy took me for my birthday. I had lunch with PrincessJasmine!”
I place my hand over my heart and gasp. “Princess Jasmine? That’s so cool. Is she your favoriteprincess?”
She nods repeatedly. “Who’syours?”
“Ariel.” I point to my hair. “Have to support my fellowredhead.”
“She’s my second favorite!” She claps her hands. “Maybe, next time, you can come with Daddy and me and meet PrincessJasmine!”
I nod timidly. “Yeah,maybe.”
Our conversation stops when Dallas gets to the table with drinks in his hands and plates lined up his arms, like an experienced waiter. I slide out of my seat to help him set everythingdown.
“Are you feeding the entire town?” Iask.
“I promised to give you the full fair experience,” he says, sitting down across from me. He points to the plates the same way Maven did with the rides. “Tenderloins are Maven’s and my favorite. I also grabbed some fried chicken, shish kebabs, and pizza in case you wanted to play it safe. Then, we have some elephant ears and cotton candy. Drinks are an option of a lemon shake-up, water, orsoda.”
I snag a lemon shake-up. “So many healthychoices.”
He chuckles. “We’re splurgingtonight.”
Maven sticks out her tongue. “It’s better than broccoli. Daddy makes me eat grossbroccoli.”
Dallas points his fork at her. “Give a man some credit for adding cheese to it foryou.”
Maven picks up a shish kebab and waves it through the air. “Not better than cotton candy! Pink is the best!” she singsout.
The nauseating smell of meat smacks me in the face, causing my stomach to churn, and she sets it back down on her plate. I close my hand over my nose and mouth—not only to block out the stench, but also to stop myself from vomiting in front of a crowd ofpeople.
Dallas drops his sandwich. “Everythingokay?”
“The meat,” I choke out underneath my hand, shaking my head. “None ofthat.”
He gets the hint, grabs it from Maven’s plate, and tosses it in the trash. “Sorry, honey,” he tells her. “Badmeat.”
She nods and moves on to atenderloin.
I move my hand and take a deep breath, whispering, “Thank you,” tohim.
His lips tilt up in a smile, a real one, something I haven’t seen from him since I’ve been here. My breathing hitches. My heartskitters.
“Any weird cravings yet?” heasks.
“Cupcakes. Cake. Brownies. Sugar ingeneral.”
He laughs, another authentic one, making me happy I came. “I’ll rememberthat.”
My lips curve into a smile, meeting his, and I snack on a slice of cheese pizza while Maven takes over the conversation of how excited she is to leave for summer camp in a few days. She shoves her plate forward after the last bite and focuses on Dallas in determination that is too intense for a kid whose age hasn’t reached the double digitsyet.
“Time for rides, Daddy!” she declares. “And don’t you forget, I get to ride thebig-kidones. No more kiddy zone forme.”
Dallas holds his hand up. “Hold it, youngster. Only the ones you meet the height requirement for,remember?”
