Home Again

She could feel the magic of the carnival wrap around her, pulling her back into the past, until she was a young girl again, standing on the edge of forever with the boy of her dreams. It was so much like before. It smelled of popcorn and grease and possibility. The sounds of chattering barkers and mechanical-ride music floated on the still night air.

She turned to him, awestruck. “How did you know this would be here?”

He smiled, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “I brought it here. For you … for me.”

She shook her head. “You mean you—”

“My former doctor is a tyrant. I knew she wouldn’t let me go out in public, so I hired these guys. I promise I’ll wear my mask around strangers and only take it off for you.”

“You really don’t need a mask anymore, you know….”

“Are you going to stand here analyzing our date, or are you going to enjoy it?”

She looked out at the brightly colored midway. Closing her eyes, she drank in all of it. The past and the present came together in her mind until there was no then, no now, there was just her and Angel and the magic of the carnival. “I’m going to enjoy it.”

“Thank God.” He took her hand in his and pulled her down toward the lights. Laughing, she followed him, clinging to his hand as he led her back to the place where it all began.

Chapter Twenty-five

Madelaine and Angel walked hand in hand down the midway. The surreal smear of sound and color and light exploded around them. Barkers called out, laughing, urging Angel to try his hand at the ring toss, or buy a corn dog, or get his photograph taken with Heloise the fat woman in booth number six.

Madelaine was mesmerized by all of it. With each step she felt the years falling away. Angel’s betrayal faded into insignificance, and the days and nights she’d waited for his return were forgotten. She couldn’t carry that weight anymore, not now, when she felt lighter than air, and young … so young.

“Look!” Angel pointed at a booth on the midway and dragged her toward it. She stumbled after him, laughing, clinging to his hand.

At the booth he slipped on his mask and leaned over the wooden edge. The barker, a wrinkly-faced old man, grinned at him. “Win a bauble for your girl, mister?”

Madelaine saw what Angel was looking at, and her breath caught. It was a pair of gaudy, red plastic earrings, dangling from a coat hanger stapled to the wooden backboard.

She knew she shouldn’t look at him right now. If she did, he’d see everything in her eyes. He’d know what this moment meant to her, what his remembering made her feel. But she couldn’t look away.

When their gazes met, she felt a jolt of electricity. “The earrings,” she whispered.

He smiled and tenderly touched her cheek.

“Okay, you lovebirds,” the barker called out in a booming voice, jangling the change belt at his waist. “You gonna play or what?”

Angel grinned. “Or what.”

Before Madelaine could ask what he meant, he’d grabbed her hand and was pulling her down the midway. Laughing, s

he clung to him, letting him sweep her away. It wasn’t until they’d reached the edge of the carnival that she understood where he was taking her. She caught her breath and felt a tiny pinching pain in her heart.

He took her to the tree, their tree.

The memories came back in a rush, squeezing her chest until she could barely breathe.

He kneeled in the dying grass, dragging her down beside him. Wordlessly he let go of her hand and started clawing at the earth, digging until there was a pile of dirt at his knee. “Got ’em,” he said at last, drawing the dirty red earrings from the damp black ground. He pulled the mask from his face, let it hang limply around his throat, then he turned to look at her.

Madelaine stared down at the cheap plastic trinkets and remembered their last night together—when they’d lain under this old oak tree and promised to love each other forever.

It should hurt, remembering that; it always had in the past. But tonight, with the earrings in his hands and the smell of popcorn and magic in the air, nothing had the power to hurt her.

“You remembered,” she whispered, biting down on her lower lip. When she looked at him, the tears came, cresting, slipping down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them, didn’t want to.

He used one muddy finger to push a strand of hair from her eyes. “What did we say back then? Crazy teenaged words about our love never ending, about these earrings being a reminder of our love for always …”

She forced herself to laugh and wanted to say something glib or easy, but nothing came out except a croaking, quiet “Silly words.”