He grinned and swung her to the opposite direction on the sidewalk, narrowly missing a woman pushing a baby stroller. “Then I have a better idea! I promise you’ll stay awake. First, though, we’re sneaking into the ballpark.” Sam grinned at Violet’s open mouth and pressed a finger there to shush her. “I’ve done it plenty of times.” He pulled Violet along to a narrow opening in the fence, hidden from the street. “Sideways,” he commanded, “squeeze.” Violet followed, compressing lunch as much as she could.

“There,” Sam pointed. “Have you ever seen that in a baseball stadium?”

Violet laughed. “Well, no. How do they play around it?” There was a stately, blooming magnolia tree in the back of center field.

“Balls that go into the tree are still in play. It makes for some interesting games.” Sam tugged her hand and they walked to the tree, which was much larger than Violet had thought. Sam pulled a pocketknife out and began to carve “VG + SD” into the bark.

“Sam, that’s silly,” she giggled, secretly pleased at the gesture.

“It will be here forever. At least, until they tear this place down to build something bigger.” He finished and put the knife away, then kissed her. “Maybe we’ll get married here.”

“Uh huh. Our parents would be delighted with that choice.”

“Who says they have to come?” Sam kicked at a dirt clod. “Come on. Our next stop is a better surprise.”

Violet eyed the huge building before they reached it and planted her feet on the cement. “No, Sam. I’ve never skated in my life. I’ll break a leg or wrist...”

“Aww, come on, Vi. The Rollerdrome is fantastic, and I’ll hang onto you real tight.” He pulled her close. “Trust me,” he whispered.

“You keep saying that.” She glanced at the entrance and back at him. “If I skate like a newborn giraffe, we’ll leave. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Sam carried the heavy skates and spent two minutes lacing his own, then ten minutes on Violet’s. He tugged and adjusted, lingering happily as he contemplated Violet’s lovely calves. He darted his eyes to the counter. The clerk was busy, so he slid his hand up her right thigh. She leaned to kiss him as she started to stand, promptly wheeling herself onto her backside with a resounding thump.

“I told you I can’t do this!” Violet started tearing at Sam’s careful lacing. He knelt down next to her and stilled her hand.

“Trust me,” he repeated, pulling her upright. “I won’t let you get hurt.” He steered Violet like a mannequin and helped her onto the rink. There were only two other skaters, a white-haired man and his grandchild circling effortlessly.