“Okay.” He slid the box over to her, laughing as she tore open the lid and retrieved the first envelope.
“Go to where it began. Where strangers became best friends,” she read. She flipped the card over and laughed.
“Your mom’s house?”
“She did watch us for the first four years of our lives.”
“Well, let’s go, bestie,” she said, grabbing the box and holding it close to her heart. They all but ran out of the house to his black sedan and made the short drive to his childhood home where his parents were waiting on the porch with smiles.
“I can’t believe he got you in on this, too,” she exclaimed with a laugh.
“Oh, we’re happy to help,” his mother replied, handing her an envelope.
She opened it and gasped. “Oh, my gosh, look at us, Mas.” She held up the picture of them at their joint third birthday party. Arms around each other’s shoulders, they wore wide grins and cake … everywhere.
He laughed. “I think this was when the Buskens addiction began. Remember the time your mom tried to pass a Graeter’s cake off on you?”
“Yes, I do. I wasn’t amused then either,” she said dryly.
“We need a picture.” His mother held up a camera.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he kissed her cheek as the lens opened and closed rapidly.
She glanced up at him, and he swore he could see the love he felt growing every day inside his chest in the depths of her warm brown eyes. Today I should lay all my cards out on the table.
“Beautiful,” his mother murmured.
He blinked, breaking the spell, and they cleared their throats.
“On to stop two?” she asked.
“Yep, time for the next clue,” he agreed.
She pulled the small envelope out and opened it, pulling a card free.
“Back before you gave your heart, we played here until dark.” She tilted her head to the side. “Oh my God, the park?”
Laughing, he nodded his head. “The very one where we almost lost our lives over lemonade.”
“See what I’ve been putting up with all my life?” she asked his parents as she gestured at him with her thumb.
“Us too,” his dad said.
“When y’all are finished bashing me, we can go,” he remarked, amused by the exchange.
“I’m ready. Are we walking?” she asked.
“For old time’s sake, I think we should.” He winked at his parents over her shoulder. They had to time it right for the next part to go off.
“Lead the way. This time we won’t be surrounded by cars and cops like the scene of a kidnapping.” She held out her hand, and he took it. They ambled toward the park where they’d spent a huge portion of their childhood.
“This is nice you know? Looking back.”
“It’s a lot of years we’ve put in. I don’t know how you stood me for some parts of it.”
“The same way you did me when we had those growing pains. Jesus, remember when I started my period?”
“I thought you hated me until you told me you started your period, you had cramps, and promptly burst into crying. For the record, that was still better than you taking to avoiding me.”