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When Ember and John finished eating, they went to the carnival area of the street fair. There were no rides, but there were several game booths and the petting zoo. When Ember saw the animals, she ran to the fence.
John came up behind her. “It seems like you’re the animal lover here.”
“They’re just so cute.”
“Let’s go inside.”
“Can we?”
“Why not?”
“Well, because we’re not seven.”
“I don’t see a sign anywhere saying no adults allowed.” He took her arm. “Come on. Let’s go pet some baby animals.”
They went through the gate and got two cups of feed from the vending machine. The animals all sensed they had food for them and gravitated toward them. Ember raised her cup higher as a goat tried to get to it, and John poured some feedon the ground to distract him.
They went to two lambs and fed them, and when a tiny pig came nosing around, John laughed. “There’s something about a baby pig.”
Ember patted the pig’s back. “They are the cutest babies around, I think.”
“They sure as hell are.” He knelt and rubbed the pig's ears, and when it laid down and rolled onto his side, John rubbed its belly. “Too bad you turn into big old fat bacon producers.”
Ember put her hands over her ears. “No. Don’t say that.”
John looked up at her. “Not this one, of course.” He stood. “Have you gotten your fill of baby animals now?”
She looked around. “I suppose. But can you ever really get your fill of petting baby animals?”
“Maybe not.” They headed for the gate and John handed the rest of his animal feed to a child coming through the gate. “Here you go. Just watch out for that big goat over there. He’s not very polite.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The mother nodded and John tipped his hat, then Ember took his arm. “Will you win me something at the games?”
“I’ll try.”
They made the rounds of the games, and Ember decided she wanted the stuffed cat at the milk can booth. It looked simple enough. Just toss the ball into the mouth of the milk can.
It wasn’t that easy.
Ten dollars later, Ember had her stuffed cat. She smiled at John. “Thank you. It looks just like Pussy Willow.”
“Pussy Willow?”
“My cat. I kind of miss her.”
“Pussy Willow?”
She laughed. “I call her Willow.”
“Hmm. I’m sure she’s happy living with your parents.” He glanced at her. “Do your parents know you’re here living in Schaeffer Mills with a strange man?”
She laughed. “Yes. And you’re not that strange.”
“And they’re fine with it?”
“I’m twenty-eight, John. What are they going to do? Ground me?”
