“Huh-uh. But I was…you know what? I was wondering why you ain’t having no fun.”

She was surprised by his statement. “I’m having fun. I am. I like to watch you have a good time.”

“But you didn’t play any of the games.”

“I’m not much of a game person.”

He took another bite from the hot dog, chewed slowly, and swallowed.

Not once did he look away from her face.

“Lucy?”

“Yes, hon?”

“How come you don’t like carnivals?”

If anything he’d said up to this point had surprised her, this left her stunned. “H-How do you know I don’t like carnivals?”

He shrugged. “Just seem like you don’t, that’s all. How come?”

She looked into his child’s eyes and decided to tell him the truth—trying not to laugh at how pathetic she’d become: of all the relationships she’d ever had in her life, this one, with this child, was the only one in which she’d spoken nothing but the truth.

She reached across the table and took one of his hands in hers. “I lost Sarah at a carnival just like this one. Just a little carnival, in a parking lot. There weren’t a lot of people there, either, but I lost her, anyway. I let go of her hand and looked away for a few seconds, and wh-when I turned back, sh-she w-was gone.” She lowered her head and tried to pull the tears back in.

Randy—careful to not let go of her hand—came around to her side of the picnic table and gave her a hug.

“It’s okay,” he said, squeezing her tight. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry about Sarah.”

“Me too.” She slipped a hand around his waist. “I’m sorry, Randy. I didn’t mean to spoil this for you.”

“You didn’t spoil anything. This’s been fun!”

She looked into his bright face and smiled. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh!”

She kissed his cheek and rose from the table, still holding his hand (only now it was Randy who held on tighter than was necessary), and headed for one of the food carts.

“Where we goin’?”

Lucy grinned. “To get some funnel cake for the road. You ever had funnel cake?”

“Huh-uh.”

“Oh, you’ll love it. It’s warm and crispy and has all this sugar on top of it. It’s yummy.”

Randy laughed. “Yummy. Thas’ a funny word.”

She found the funnel cake stand, placed her order, and was waiting for the vendor to create his culinary magic when Randy tugged on her hand and said, “Lookit that man over there.”

“What man, hon?”

“That one,” he replied, pointing.

Lucy followed the direction of his pointing finger and saw—

—sweetjeezusno!—

—saw him bobbing along, walking on his white-gloved, too-large hands while the stumps of his legs, hidden by pinned-up pants legs, dangled above the ground.

“Souvenirs!” barked Thalidomide Man, his quiver full of hand-carved treasures bouncing on his back. “Get your official and guar-on-teed authentic souvenirs right here. Hand-crafted! One-of-a-kind!”