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It was the worst Fall Fest ever. While Sandra enjoyed having her family fawn all over her, she wasn’t so keen to have the entire town do it. She suspected people had turned out for the festival just to get to talk to the local celebrity. She couldn’t wait for the next dramatic event, so that people would forget all about her.
She was grateful that Nate had found someone else to facilitate the pony rides, so that he could stick with her. The two of them strolled around the grounds with Sammy, and Nate interfered whenever anyone trapped them for too long or asked too many annoying questions. “Did you think you were going to die?” “How did you ever allow yourself to get kidnapped in the first place?” “Why didn’t you just press your panic button?” On and on it went, and Sandra would have left the Fall Fest by now if not for the small favor she’d asked of her favorite angel.
It hadn’t been granted yet.
She was trying to be patient.
Though Nate didn’t know it, their haphazard strolling route had really been a loose tail of Peter’s movements—except for that brief detour to support Ethel’s whoopie pie booth. After that delightful distraction, Sandra and her stomachache had steered them back onto Peter’s trail. So far, he’d wandered around the festival alone. Apparently, Sandra’s celebrity status did not extend to her children, and for that, she was grateful.
A gaga pit was set up next to the bobbing for apples pool. They didn’t have enough players, and one of the boys waved Peter over. Sandra didn’t know why they didn’t just draw from the gaggle of girls standing around the perimeter giggling. Apparently, for now, gaga was an all-male sport.
Sandra watched closely while pretending she wasn’t watching it all. To the best of her recollection, gaga was not Peter’s favorite game. But as she watched, boy after boy got knocked out of the round until it was just Peter and Ethan left standing in the pit. For the first time, Sandra wondered if Peter was accomplishing this success on his own power.
Then Peter wound up and delivered the ball with such force that Sandra knew divine intervention was in play. The ball traveled so fast that Ethan didn’t have a prayer of getting out of the way, and it smacked him squarely in both shins.
He cried out in surprise, and then his face darkened in anger. He jammed one finger into the air and made a circle. “Rematch!” he cried, and everyone hopped back into the ring.
But Ethan fared no better in the second match, and one by one, the girls started to cheer for Peter instead of for him. The more frustrated he got, the worse he played. It took all the willpower Sandra could muster not to beam with pride. Instead, she forced herself to hang back and secretly gloat from afar. She and Sammy sat on a nearby swing set and silently cheered Peter on, while he wiped the ground with them in the second round and then again in the third. After three losses, Ethan no longer wanted to play and stormed off for the basketball court.
Sandra understood his thinking. Ethan excelled in basketball, so was going to where he felt most comfortable. He looked over his shoulder, obviously expecting all of his cronies to follow him, but no one did. “Hey!” he hollered. “Get over here. We’re playing basketball now!”
Jack hustled after him, and the rest of them followed in a trickle. At first, Peter showed no interest in playing basketball, and Sandra couldn’t blame him. Basketball was certainly not his thing. He had never shown any interest or ability. But the pretty girls were pulling on each of his arms, and grudgingly, he followed them to the court.
Ethan wound the ball at his chest. “Check.”
It was evident that Peter did not know what this word meant. He looked around, stupefied. Sandra didn’t know what it meant either.
“Give me the ball back, doofus!”
“What is going on?” Nate asked, apparently noticing for the first time that his son was involved in some social drama.
“Not sure,” Sandra said, even though she had a pretty good idea. “Let’s go check it out.” She tried not to look overeager as she tucked Sammy back into his stroller and headed for a spot closer to the basketball court.
By the time she got there, the game was well underway. Someone threw Peter the ball, and though he bobbled it, he then got control, pivoted toward the hoop, and shot the ball. Sandra was no expert, but it sure looked like textbook form.
Swish. Nothing but net.
Sandra failed to hold back her triumphant laugh, but none of the kids noticed. All the girls squealed and clapped. She could almost see the smoke rolling out of Ethan’s ears.
Everything that Peter threw up went through the hoop. He still couldn’t dribble, pass, or play defense, but boy could he shoot. Sandra glanced at the enraptured looks on the girls’ faces and realized with horror that she might’ve gone too far with her maternal interference. Peter might not get out of this without a girlfriend. But it was too late to stop the train. Peter had social momentum, and there was no slowing him down. Even Jack was starting to verbally kiss his butt.
Will he still be able to shoot tomorrow? she asked God, not expecting an answer.
But clear as day, she heard Bob’s voice. “He will be, but he won’t want to.”
“This isn’t the church angel’s doing, is it?” she asked softly.
“Huh?” Her husband was staring at her, but she ignored him. She was listening intently for Bob’s voice.
“Nope, this one is all me. I figured I owed you.”
She smiled, sure her heart had never been so full. “We make a good team,” she said to Bob.
“I know,” Nate said, and she realized that this too was true. And even though Sammy started to bellow, she savored the moment, vowing to be equally grateful for every moment of her life from now on.
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