With just a few miles to go, she bounced in her seat like she did as a girl. She loved so much about Benton’s—the fried dough, the mini golf, the rides. Benton’s hundred-year-old carousel boasted real brass rings to catch. Neck-wrenching bumper cars rattled the bones, and the Cosmotron still blasted Eighties pop. The haunted house used to be scary and might still be now, if it wasn’t so funny. At some point, rounding a corner to find a mannequin man with his head stuck in a toilet evoked screams of laughter rather than terror.

However, the Salt and Pepper Shakers ride remained horrifying into the new millennium. She never had the courage or the stomach to be strapped into one of two bullet-shaped cages that rotated end over end on a long, spinning shaft. She half expected the thing to fly apart and catapult the riders into space. Fingers crossed, Richard would not want to risk his medical career or his dental work on the Salt and Pepper Shakers. Knowing she was present for his first trip to Benton’s, however, made this visit all the more exciting.

He made his first snide remark the second they drove beneath the Benton’s Grove entrance gate, adorned with dancing bear mannequins. Clad in overalls and dresses, the bears spun parasols and played accordions in animatronic spasms, which was somehow even lamer, he explained, than if they had merely been painted dancing bears.

Having yet to meet a soul who wasn’t won over by Benton’s particular blend of tacky and charming, she brushed off the wisecrack. Just wait until he tasted a genuine Benton’s Grove funnel cake.

Rounding the Tilt-a-Whirl on foot, he came face to face with the birthday pavilion and exploded into laughter. “It really is a giant, pink birthday cake.”

She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “What did you expect?”

“Not subtlety, but still.” He guffawed again. “It’s a monstrosity.”

“I think it’s quaint. I enjoy Benton’s Grove, Dr. Bruce, and you will, too.” She nudged him with one hip. “Just give it a chance.”

“Oh, my poor, sheltered darling. Remind me to take you to a real theme park someday.”

With a huff, she thwapped his shoulder. “Don’t be a snob.”

He hooked an arm around her waist and snugged her close. “God, you’re gorgeous when you’re irritated. Can I just order you steak and take you to bed?”

“Watch it, Doctor. Children are present.” Jabbing his ribs, she squirmed free. “Besides, I wanna eat pink cake and catch brass rings.”

He snagged her hand. “I already caught mine.”

Hip pressed against his, she stumbled under the birthday pavilion into a scene of loosely organized chaos.

Kneeling on the cement, Claire wiped a sobbing boy’s nose with a bright pink, paper napkin. She offered a stiff wave, rolled her eyes, and pointed at her husband.