Page 70 of An Overdue Match
I clasp my hands to my chest and bat my fake lashes at him. “You’d be my hero.”
He gives me an exaggerated salute, then marches off.
31
It had taken almost a half hour, a bit of cajoling, and the bribery of half of Tai’s sandwich to get Evangeline’s wig back from the squirrel.
“Yes! Finally!” Tai held up the wig in victory, panting slightly from his efforts.
The squirrel chittered from his branch, looked at the processed meat and bread in its tiny hands, then back at the wig.
“Oh no,” Tai said, backing up. “We made a trade. No take backs.”
Evangeline laughed from where she sat on the picnic blanket.
Tai glanced at her, relieved to see her happy and relaxed. He’d gladly make himself dizzy chasing the blasted squirrel around the trunk of a thousand trees just to glimpse the look on her face right then. Her guard was down, and she’d lost the self-consciousness and embarrassment that had blanketed her when the wind had ripped the wig from her head. If he could make it so she always felt this way, he would.
He shook out the strands of synthetic hair, hoping to untangle some of the knots that had formed from the squirrel’s treatment. “Here. I think that creature is either related to PepéLe Pew or Scrat fromIce Age. When he sees something he wants, he becomes obsessed. You decide if you’d rather think he saw the wig as a girlfriend or...”
Evangeline set the wig on her fist, picking at the strands and looking it over. Her lips twitched. “The poor thing does look rather defiled now, doesn’t it?”
“I hear bedhead is all the rage.”
She snorted, letting her grin unfurl.
The squirrel threw down the hunk of sandwich and descended the trunk of the tree, chittering as he went. He scurried toward the blanket, stopping feet away, then standing on his hind legs, his front paws clasped in front of him as if pleading with them.
“I think he’s begging you to not keep them apart. He’s ruined her reputation with his dalliance and now he wants to do the right and noble thing.”
She barked out a quick laugh. “But can he provide for her and make her happy? Give her the life she’s used to?”
Their eyes met over the horribly disarrayed crown of the wig and both lost the last of their control over their amusement, laughing hysterically.
Tai recovered his ability to speak first. “Is it salvageable?” He nodded toward the wig.
Evangeline shrugged, still chuckling. “I honestly don’t know.” She turned to the begging squirrel. “Do you promise to love and cherish her as long as you live?”
The squirrel got down on all fours and hurried forward to the edge of the blanket, stopping there to resume his pleas of undying love.
“I think that’s a yes.”
“Then I now pronounce you—” She shook her head wryly. “What am I even doing right now?”
“Performing a squirrel and wig wedding,” Tai said in a voicefull of forced seriousness. He looked at her, and their eyes locked.
“That has to be the most ridiculous thing to ever pass your lips.”
“Says the person officiating.”
Impatient, the squirrel ran forward, snatched the wig, then retreated as fast as he could to the safety of the trees.
“I hope he treats her right.”
“That wig is never going to be the same again.” Tai winked at her, which set her into another fit of giggles.
He could watch and listen to her laugh all day. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. Although that wasn’t the only part of her with color.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he walked to the car. He opened the trunk and went to a side compartment where he kept a few outdoor supplies. Grabbing a bottle of sunscreen, he shut the trunk and walked back to the blanket.
