His Sweet Reward

Her smile grows until she’s beaming at me. “This place looks like a castle! How did I not know about this?”

We walk towards the ticketing booth and I pay for the two of us. “It’s seasonal. They only come once a year, so if you don’t get here while they’re open, you have to wait until next season.”

“You’ve been here before?” This time she’s the one to reach out for my hand and I tuck her in close beside me.

“Yeah, my parents brought me here a few times as a kid, but I haven’t been back since then. I realized last night that it’s that time of year, and I looked it up. I saw they’ve only got a couple of days left, so I wanted to make sure I got you here before it closed.

“I’m already having the best day ever and we haven’t even walked in yet.”

“Glad to know I’m outdoing last night.” I wink at her as we give our tickets to the woman dressed as a maiden.

“Good sir and gentle lady, you are not dressed for our fair lands,” the woman taking our ticket says.

“We’re on our way to remedy that.” I tilt my head in a bow and she allows us to pass.

“Oh my gosh, is everyone here in character?” Brooklyn looks over her shoulder as we walk through the trees and into the village.

“I think you’re going to enjoy this,” I say, more to myself than to her. “All right, princess. Let’s get you properly dressed for today’s events.”

“What?” Before Brooklyn can process what I’m saying to her, I turn her to face the store that carries costumes.

“This way.” She laughs as I lead her inside to where an older couple is standing behind the counter.

“Welcome, sire, are you and your fair maiden here for proper attire?” The man bows to us and the woman curtsies.

“This is incredible,” Brooklyn whispers.

“We are. My lady will have whatever her heart desires.”

Brooklyn looks at me with wide eyes as the woman comes over and takes her by the hand. “This way, m’lady.” She takes her to the back of the store, where I see tons of dresses and costumes for the festival.

“This way, good sir,” the older gentleman says, and I follow him to the opposite side.

It takes a little while for me to decide on what I’m willing to wear, but I want to play along as much as possible if for no other reason than to see the look on Brooklyn’s face. Once I’ve settled on a leather vest and chaps and a medieval axe I can hang from my belt, I step out of the dressing room and wait at the counter. A few moments later I see the older woman come around the corner and then ring me up for the total. I pay for the both of us and then look around to find Brooklyn.

“This way, m’lord,” the woman says as she leads me to the other side.

Standing there in front of a row of mirrors is my girl, and I’m stunned at how beautiful she looks. She’s gorgeous in a sweatshirt and leggings, but seeing her in a pale blue maiden’s dress with flowers in her braid makes her look breathtaking.

“Oh my god, you look like Westley from The Princess Bride,” she laughs as she comes over and kisses me. “Except bigger and more intimidating.”

It shocks me, not because of what she says but because it feels so natural and perfect. Like we’ve joked together all our lives and I’ve kissed her a thousand times. There’s nothing new and awkward, yet when I feel her against me I’m alive for the first time in my life. I kiss her back and then I stand there looking her over and smiling. When was the last time my heart felt so full? Has it ever?

“You look like Buttercup on her wedding day.”

“Let’s storm the castle.”

I shake my head as we say goodbye to the older couple and walk out into the village. The fair is in full swing with people at the blacksmith watching someone make a sword, and a booth right beside it for making candles. There are jugglers and people singing and even a jester on stilts.

“Oh, they have face painting.” Brooklyn points to the children in line waiting their turn.

“Do you want to do that?” I squeeze her hand and she shakes her head.

“No, but my kids would love it.”

She tells me about her students and I watch her light up. She’s so proud of them and it’s as if they are partly hers. I guess with the amount of time she spends with them, she feels that way, and I can understand her connection to them.

“I never really wanted kids,” I admit, and she looks up at me.

“Really, why?”

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be a good dad.”