by Leigh Bale
Chapter Sixteen
The day of the Make-A-Wish barbecue started out hot and dry. Emma showered and dressed in short overalls and a robin’s-egg blue top before she applied her makeup. She couldn’t decide whether she should pull her long hair up in a clip and enjoy a cooling breeze against her neck or curl her hair and wear it down around her face. There had been times when she noticed Mark’s appreciative gaze resting on her long hair and she knew instinctively that he preferred it down.
Vanity did ugly things to a woman’s comfort.
She left it down, curling, primping, spraying until it was almost time for Mark to pick her up. They had to arrive at the park early so they could set up their hamburger/hot dog stand and have everything in order for the crowds.
With one last spritz of cologne, she went out into her living room and gathered up her keys and purse. The doorbell rang and she hurried to open it, her heart thumping with excitement.
“Hi, Emma!” Angie grinned.
Emma smiled and squeezed Angie’s shoulder as she hunkered down so she could look the girl in the eyes. “Hasn’t that new tooth come in yet?”
Angie shook her head, the flowers on her hat jiggling. “Nope. And I lost another one back here.”
The girl opened her mouth wider to show Emma the gap in her teeth.
“Ah, I see. And did the tooth fairy bring you something for that?” Emma asked.
“Yeah, a whole dollar.” Angie smiled and scuffed her sandaled foot against the door mat.
Emma peered over Angie’s head. Mark stood beside his truck, a slow grin spreading across his face, his hands slung low in the pockets of his denim jeans. Now, this was a change, letting Angie come to get Emma alone. Maybe Mark was loosening up a bit.
“Well, I’m ready.” Emma stepped out onto the front steps and pulled the door closed behind her.
As they walked across the lawn, Angie reached out and took Emma’s hand, hopping along, chattering about the fun they were going to have at the barbecue.
“There’s gonna be food, games and a three-legged race.” Her nose wrinkled with repugnance. “But they’re gonna play fifties music.”
Emma’s brows quirked. “You don’t like fifties music?”
“Nah,” she shook her head. “Too old-fashioned. Did you know Dad volunteered for the dunking booth?”
Lifting her head, Emma’s gaze locked with Mark’s as he rounded the Silverado and came to open the door for her. He’d shaved, his lean jaw strong and masculine.
“Hi, there.” He greeted her with a smile.
His nearness caused her pulse to race.
“Hi. You volunteered for the dunking booth, huh?” Emma tossed him a speculative smile.
His grin widened and she knew from his expression that he had read her mind.
“Don’t even think about it, Emma Shields,” he warned with a chuckle.
“What?” she asked in an innocent tone.
“I know what you have in mind.” Deep laughter rumbled in his chest as he closed her door and rounded the truck to the driver’s side.
“Did you bring some extra towels?” she asked when he got inside.
He reached to help Angie buckle her seat belt. “I’ve got one.”
“Good. You’re gonna need it.” She smirked.
He chuckled. “I remember your throwing arm from high school and, trust me, lady, it was lousy.”
She burst out laughing. “True, I was always too busy with geometry and biology to go out for any sports. But I think my throwing arm has improved since then.”
“Maybe next weekend we can take Angie to the park to play some baseball.” He gave an exaggerated lift of his brows. “You do still like baseball, don’t you?”
A memory of him chasing her around the bases when they were in high school overwhelmed her and she felt a heated flush stain her cheeks. She stared out the window at the passing traffic. Another vision filled her mind, of Brian dressed in his Little League uniform, running the bases, the exhilaration of victory on his face as he scored his first home run. Instead of causing her pain, the memory warmed her heart.
Was this the peace of God?
“I don’t mind baseball at all. In fact, it’s my favorite sport,” she told Mark.
He flashed her a smile of approval. “Mine, too.”
When they arrived at the park, they set to work, unloading paper goods, buns and coolers containing hamburger patties and hot dogs from the back of Mark’s truck. Angie pitched in, carrying bags of foam cups.
Concession booths with white canopies were already set up all over the park. Soon they would be filled with food, games and activities for young and old to enjoy.
One of the Make-A-Wish volunteers chaperoned Angie and a group of other Wish Kids to play games while Mark and Emma ran the hamburger booth. Wearing a long, white apron, Mark flipped burgers while Emma took orders.
A voice over the loudspeaker announced each event and starting whistles and horns filled the air. Heat sweltered near the grill and, before long, sweat poured off Emma’s face. She pushed her long hair away from her neck, finding it slightly damp. No doubt it had lost its curl and would be straight as spaghetti. So much for trying to look nice for Mark. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice her disheveled appearance.
“I think I’m going to enjoy that dunking booth after this.” He wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve.
Emma reached past him for another case of buns. As she lifted the heavy box, she tottered and found the load suddenly removed from her arms as Mark took it and set it aside.
“These boxes are too heavy for you to lift, Emma. Let me get them.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He grinned as he salted the burger patties. In the close confines of the booth, they found a rhythm, working together side by side.
“Two more burgers and a dog,” Emma called.
“Coming right up!” Mark returned.
Happy laughter from the crowd filtered over them, the hum of fifties music floating on the air. Mark began to sing along, flipping burgers on the grill like an expert. As she watched him work, something deep inside Emma melted. And right there, standing in the middle of the hamburger booth, clutching a hot dog bun in one hand, with ketchup on her elbow, lightning struck Emma’s heart.
She wanted to see Mark every day, to talk to him, to hear his voice and to know he was there for her. The thought of not seeing him and Angie after the girl finished her treatments brought a sickening dread to Emma’s chest.
It had happened. She had fallen in love. Now that her heart was committed, she faced the horrific pain of losing someone she cared deeply about.
Again.
And yet, it no longer brought her fear. Staring across the booth at Mark, she watched as he popped patties onto buns, a wide smile on his face, his voice filled with happiness as he tossed three more raw burgers on the grill.
“You want those with grilled onions?” he called to a burly man with a bald head.
Emma didn’t hear the reply. It was as if she were in a tunnel and all she could see at the end of that dark void was Mark. His expression, his movements, his smile. He was the light in her life. Him and Angie.
The realization that she loved him left her shaking. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep, steadying breath.
“Emma? You okay?”
She focused on Mark’s face. Holding a package of hot dogs, he stood before the counter, his concerned gaze resting on her. The noise from the crowd brought her back to reality.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She picked up the tongs and placed a hot dog in the bun she held before putting it on a plate for the woman she had been serving.
Relief etched Mark’s features. “Good. I was afraid you might be getting heat exhaustion.”
“No, no, I’m fine.”
An hour later, their replacements came to relieve them and Mark took Emma’s arm as he led her deep into the park.
“I wonder where Angie is,” he said, craning his neck to se
e through the crowd.
“No doubt having fun with her group.”
They stopped at the dance platform where couples were doing the jitterbug. Over the speakers, Emma heard Little Richard singing “Tuttie Fruttie.”
“Great song,” Mark yelled above the deafening noise.
Emma hesitated, remembering her last anniversary with David, three months before Brian died. He’d held her close, his arms muscular and strong, but even then, she’d felt his aloofness and disapproval.
“Hey, Dad!”
Angie ran toward them, wearing a floppy Seven Dwarf’s hat and sporting a red stain around her mouth from some Popsicle or punch.
“Come on, you guys. We’re gonna miss the race.” Angie tugged on Mark and Emma’s arms.
Mark smiled at his daughter, thinking how good it was to see her happy and animated. Laughing at her eagerness, he let her pull him and Emma over to the field where the three-legged race was about to start.
Standing at the entry line, Angie reached for a ball of twine and handed it to her dad. “I registered you for the race. Come on. Hurry!”
Mark saw Emma staring at the lineup where a multitude of parents and their children paired up with their inside legs bound together.
“You have got to be kidding. What have you gotten us into?” she asked Angie.
“Ah, come on, Emma,” Mark urged. “It’ll be fun.”
The director of the race yelled through a megaphone that the race would start in five minutes. Kids and adults laughed, stretched and prepared for the race.
Mark thought of wrapping his arm around Emma and pulling her close as they ran toward the finish line. He couldn’t wait.
Emma looked squeamish. Maybe he and Angie were pushing her too hard, too fast. But he hadn’t had this much fun since—
He couldn’t remember when. He’d never felt like this about any woman before, and he wasn’t quite certain what it meant. He only knew he felt like laughing again. His heart swelled with joy and he didn’t want it to end.
“Okay, but just this once.” Emma warned as she took a deep breath.
“Hooray!” Angie jumped up and down, clapping her hands.
Sitting side by side in the grass, Mark tied his leg to Emma’s. Angie took away the ball of twine while Mark and Emma wrapped their arms around each other’s backs and stood, hobbling over to the starting line.
“You really think we can do this?” Emma asked, looking doubtful.
“Of course we can,” he encouraged.
“But what if we lose?”
Mark tilted his head and studied her for a moment before he shrugged. “Who cares?”
She smiled up into his eyes and hugged him tighter. It felt so natural to be with her.
“All ready?” the coordinator of the race called through his megaphone.
A breathless pause filled the air.
“Oh, I hope you don’t regret this,” Emma whispered to Mark.
He chuckled. “Not one bit.”
“On your mark…get set…Go!”
Mark took a step, trying not to lengthen his stride too wide for Emma to keep up. She held her own pretty well, matching his pace until the very end. The grassy field was bumpy and she stumbled in a hole. Down they went. Their arms and legs tangled, their laughter filled the air as they scrambled to regain their feet.
“Hurry, Dad! Hurry, Emma!” Angie screamed at them from the finish line.
Pulling Emma up, he settled her on her feet. She laughed so hard, she could hardly catch her breath. Tears ran from her eyes. Her long hair fell across her face and he couldn’t resist sweeping it back from her cheeks.
“You okay?” he asked with concern. “You didn’t twist your ankle, did you?”
“No, we’re losing. Let’s go!”
Off they went, hopping along until they collapsed once more over the finish line.
“Yea!” Angie fell on top of them. Her laughter mingled with theirs as she hugged and kissed them both.
“You guys were great! But you didn’t win,” she advised with a solemn expression.
“Did you really expect us to?” Emma giggled.
“Nah, but you still get a prize.”
Angie pointed to a woman handing out consolation candy bars to all the participants.
Mark untied their legs and pulled Emma to her feet. Her eyes sparkled with happiness and her smile left him weak-kneed. He plucked blades of grass out of her hair and she stared into his eyes. Drawing near, he felt the sudden urge to kiss her.
She ducked her head and swiped at the grass and leaves on her clothes. The moment was broken and he stepped away.
“Well,” he sighed. “It’s about time for me to head over to the dunking booth.”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Hey, Dad, can I jump on the trampoline?”
Looking down, he saw Angie pointing to a large trampoline set up beside the dunking booth. A man and little boy were holding hands as they bounced on it. Though it had tall netting guards circling it for safety, Mark shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey.”
“Ah, but I want to. Please.” Angie showed a dejected pout.
“If you stick that bottom lip out any further, you’re gonna trip over it,” he teased.
She scowled and Mark tossed a skeptical glance at Emma. “What do you think, Doc?”
“I don’t see why not. Let her go, Mark.”
“Pleeease, Dad.” Angie jumped up and down, a hopeful expression on her pixie face.
It went against his better judgment, but how could he fight them both? Though Emma didn’t say so, he knew he held Angie too tight. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to let her go this time.
“All right,” he laughed. “But only once.”
Angie took off at a run toward the trampoline and Mark faced Emma. “Well, I’d better go. Duty calls.”
“Yeah.” There was a twinge of hesitancy in her voice.
“See you later?” he asked.
“Sure, you’re my ride home,” she reminded him.
A thrill of anticipation tingled over him, but Mark was loath to let her out of his sight. The only thing that sustained him was the knowledge that he’d get to see her later that evening.
Confident in this knowledge, he headed toward the dressing room, where he had left his towel and swim trunks.
As she walked across the park, Emma saw a sea of people surrounding the dunking booth. Drawing nearer, she stood on her tiptoes to peer over the heads of the crowd, trying to glimpse the glass walls of the water tank.
Mark sat inside on a bench hanging over the pool of clear water. He wore a pair of aqua-colored paisley swim trunks, revealing the lean, strong body he had earned from years of working out and staying active.
Wow, he looked great.
A crooked smile curved his mouth as he taunted the onlookers. “Come on, lay down your money. It’s for a good cause. I dare you to knock me in.”
Oh, it was too tempting. Emma couldn’t resist.
“Excuse me.” She elbowed her way through the crowd.
Reaching the booth operator, she handed the girl the tickets she had purchased earlier and picked up three yellow balls.
This was going to be fun!
Mark spied her and his brows lifted in surprise. He grinned and raised a long arm.
“Yeah, Emma. Woo-eee!” he called. “Go for it, girl. I dare you to knock me in.”
She smiled with determination. In her mind, she couldn’t prevent the words that filled her brain. This is for dumping me for Denise Johnson.
She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and drew back her arm and fired. She hit the target dead-on and a loud bell rang. Down Mark went into the pool. He emerged soaking wet, flinging his head back to get the hair and water out of his eyes.
Satisfaction burned inside of Emma. She laughed and jumped up and down, filled with as much excitement as a schoolgirl.
“Burr!” Mark shivered as waves slapped him in the f
ace. “This water is cold!”
His laughter joined with that of the crowd as they cheered for him to get back up on the plank.
“Good girl,” Mark called to Emma as he climbed the ladder and sat on the platform. “I guess your throwing arm has improved since high school. See if you can do it again, babe.”
Babe. The endearment went straight to her heart, burning there like a flame. Oh, yes, she could do it again. She would show him.
In her mind, more words filtered in and she didn’t feel a bit of guilt as she lifted her arm. This is for breaking my heart back when we were in high school.
Again, she fired.
Ding!
Down he went into the water.
The crowd roared. Mark emerged, sputtering as he wiped his eyes and nose. His laughter rang out, low and masculine. What a good sport. Not only did she admire Mark, but she also respected him.
“I think you have a death wish for me,” he crowed.
Now, her resentment seemed so childish. So shallow and unimportant. Her anger evaporated like summer mist across the Sierra Nevadas. Happiness bubbled up inside, her heart floating higher than the clouds.
“I’ve still got one more,” she called as peals of laughter tumbled from her throat. “Get back on that seat, Williams, and let me have my money’s worth.”
A wide grin split his face and he jabbed a dripping finger toward her. “I’m gonna make you pay for this, Emma Shields. Just you wait until I’m out of this booth.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she called as he climbed the ladder one more time.
Drawing back her arm, a third vendetta came to mind.
This is for making me fall in love with you!
She threw the ball as hard as she could.
Ding!
Down he went.
The crowd went wild.
As Mark emerged once more from the pool, he sputtered and chuckled until his face flushed red.
The girl running the dunking booth presented Emma with a floppy brown teddy bear with a crooked black nose. Emma’s sides hurt and tears squeezed from her eyes. No longer was she angry at anyone. Not at God, not at Mark, and not even at herself. The pain had been replaced with the insatiable desire to forgive. She had tried so hard to save Brian’s life. But God had taken her little boy to be with Him. Knowing Brian was in the Lord’s care brought her such solace. The more she loved, the more her capacity to love increased.