Page 96 of Make Mine Sweet
“You know where they are.” She waves at a small cooler tucked behind the cart. He roots around until he finds a cheese stick and a yogurt cup. He sits in a small camp chair they must have brought just for him, and digs in.
“I could watch him until you’re done here, if that’s easier for you,” I tell her. Maybe take him to the park I saw when I was doing laps downtown, who knows.
Her bright smile kills me every time. “That’s sweet, but my mom’s got their afternoon planned out. Wren and I will take over in the store when the market ends in another hour.”
“No problem.” The small, sinking sensation in my chest says I’m disappointed, though.
She leans closer to me. “You’re coming with us to watch the fireworks tonight, right? I have it on good authority it’s going to be memorable.”
With Tess, anything would be.
“I won’t miss it.”
And won’t be able to think about anything else the rest of the day.
THIRTY-TWO
TESS
Ianand I exchange amused smiles as we make our way across the high school’s parking lot in the growing darkness. We’re loaded down with blankets, sweatshirts, and a cooler full of snacks—everything we need to enjoy the big fireworks show.
The same fireworks show August has talked about nonstop all evening. He’s told us what his favorite fireworks from last year look like. How loud their bangs are. How he gets to stay up extra late. That maybe he’ll make fireworks when he grows up.
You’d think he downed ten cups of coffee before we got in the car.
“Everybody sits on the football field to watch, isn’t that funny?” he says. “But I lie down to watch. It’s better that way. If you sit, your neck hurts. So I lie down.”
“So I should lie down, too?” Ian asks as if he’s having trouble getting it.
“Yup. And then they whoosh, zam, pow, right over our heads! There’s going to be a zillion fireworks.”
“A zillion?” Ian’s mouth tips up at the side. “Are you going to count them?”
“It’s too many to count. But my friend Lila told me there will be a zillion, and she knows. She’s a fireworks expert.”
I make a mental note to tell Lila to add that to her resume.
“Remember where we’re headed?” I’ve reminded him a few times. We come to the field for New Year’s fireworks, too, but that’s a big break in between.
“The big forty-five on the field. Because Nana is forty-five!”
I snort. “She would love to hear that.”
We move through the bottleneck at the entrance and stream onto the field. A few hundred people have already set up blankets and lawn chairs in anticipation of the big show. Somebody’s playing “American Pie” on the guitar, kids toss a light-up Frisbee back and forth, and glow sticks shine like a sea of neon.
“I see them!” August sprints down the forty-five-yard line to where my mom and sister are sitting on blankets halfway across the field.
I catch the moment they notice Ian. Nerves fizz through me like a shaken seltzer bottle. I told them I’d invited our neighbor to join us and left it at that. But even in this dim light, I can see them reaching all the conclusions I was too afraid to say out loud.
I like him. I care for him. I’m completely smitten and need everyone here to be cool about it.
Ian already knows Wren, so I only have the one introduction to make. “Mom, this is Ian. Ian, my mom, Maureen.”
“It’s good to meet you.” Mom stands to shake his hand. “August talks about you all the time.”
“And Dutch!” August says from the blanket next to Wren.
“I’m a fan of August’s, too,” Ian tells her.
