I ring the doorbell and wait a few moments. Mrs. Bentley opens the door looking as beautiful as she did all those years ago.
“London, right?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“I remember you, and that dress. You are stunning, darling, come in.”
“Oh, I have the desserts as well. Where should I bring them?”
“Right this way.” She waits for me to grab them out of the van and leads Grady and me through the house.
“This looks amazing,” Mrs. Bentley says, moving over some potatoes for the box of funnel cakes. I agree with that move.
“Thanks,” I say, laying everything out in order. “Fried food is kind of a staple of a carnival, so we have funnel cake sundaes topped with fried cookie dough bites.”
“Mmm, you had me at fried.” She helps me unload the boxes, asking a million questions about where I learned to bake, and all about my business. After she’s run out, she moves on to the next obvious subject.
“So you’ve forgiven Sean?”
I shake my head, placing the final box on top of another. “There was nothing to forgive. It was a misunderstanding.”
She sighs and offers me water from the fridge. I opt for the only coconut water. My nerves are still on the fritz.
“That’s always where Sean has struggled, being misunderstood. It didn’t help that he was so ashamed of being dyslexic and had a really hard time in school.”
I didn’t know that. And the news only makes me love him more. He’s human. He’s imperfect.
“I’m glad he’s found someone who understands him.” She arches a brow at me.
I chuckle. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. That might take a lifetime.”
“I hope it does,” she winks.
My cheeks burn with the confession I’ve just made, but I don't take it back.
While we’ve been talking in the kitchen, the noise beyond has grown louder. Someone whistles, and Mrs. Bentley jumps.
“Oh, the party. We’re late, and we are already here.” She rushes out of the kitchen, but I stay behind. I tell myself it’s just to check on a few things, but I’m nervous. What I need is Sean. Where is he? Why hasn’t he found me yet?
I check the lids on the containers one more time for no obvious reason, then slowly walk out of the kitchen. Someone had been talking, but now people are making their way outside.
I slip behind an older couple and follow the horde. The backyard is even more incredible now that the sun has gone down. There are lights in every tree and bright neon signs along the fences. In the pool, there’s a floating flamingo, a Christmas tree, and a clown.
The Ferris wheel isn’t the only ride. There’s also a merry-go-round and several little booths with stuffed prizes.
This is… insanely awesome. It would be incredibly romantic if my boyfriend would magically appear.
I head for the food line like everyone else but stop when I see a familiar figure.
“Trent?”
He looks up from the gorgeous woman he’s talking to and blinks repeatedly. Did he forget who I was?
He clears his throat, the sound like tires on gravel.
“London?”
I walk toward him, relieved to be remembered.
