Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
So the festivities wind down and Rosie and I stand at the front gate like a good bride and groom and thank everyone for coming.
It takes a while for the grounds to be cleared out, but eventually it quiets down and we walk, hand in hand, to the park by the river in the back of the grounds where everyone is hanging out for the fireworks show.
The tourists are welcome to stay in town for this part of the show, and most of them do. But it’s been a long day for us and that’s why the park is here. It’s a place for us, the townspeople and performers in this show we call the Revival, to be alone.
“That was nice,” Rosie says.
And I just smile. “Rosie, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. I mean, when Collin and Lowyn had their fun day, it was pretty cool. Especially since I was newly home again. But today beats that out hands down. I think I owe Jim Bob a pretty big favor to make up for this.”
“So you really did plan all this as a date?”
When I look down at her, her eyes are wide. “I really did.”
“And now what? I mean…” She shrugs up one shoulder. “We’ve done all the towns now. You’ve visited me—in costume—at every single one.”
“Well… if you don’t have a next step in mind, then I’ll just tell you what I’m thinking. I’m thinking you and Cross move in with me and we do this day all over again at some point in the future. Only this time, we do it legal.”
She lets go of my hand so she can grip my arm, and then she hugs it, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I think that’s a pretty good idea.”
“Even the movin’ in part? I figured that’d be a stickin’ point with you since you’re so… you know, independent.”
“Well, if that were my house and not Lowyn’s I might tell you to move in with me. But it’s not. And that house of yours really is yours. So I think that’s where we belong.”
“That’s good—”
“Hey.” Rosie interrupts me, looking around. “Where’s Cross?”
I look around as well. “Hmm. Must be with those friends of his.”
“No.” Rosie is looking at a group of kids off to the left, all about Cross’s age. “Those are his friends right there.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hold that thought about the shacking up.” We both chuckle. “I’m just gonna go ask them where he is. BRB.”
I wait, watching as she walks away, appreciating her back view. Even this late in the day, she looks gorgeous in that dress. I’m just starting to daydream about how I might take it off her when we get home when she reaches the group of kids, all of whom stand at attention. There is some nodding, then some head shaking. Every one of them begins looking around.
And watching this, even unable to hear what they are saying, I know something is wrong and my stomach clenches up with dread.
“Cross!” Rosie starts calling for him. The sound is distant from here, but still plenty loud and I can hear the restrained panic in her voice. “Cross!”
Then she’s rushing in my direction and I’m meeting her halfway. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s missing, Amon. Cross is missing. His friends haven’t seen him since the wedding ended.”
“What?” Now I look around too. “But that was like six hours ago.” I walk over to the kids, who are still standing at attention. “When was the last time you saw Cross? And I want specifics.”
They all start talking at once, but they’re all saying the same thing so I don’t bother telling them to go one at a time. “The last time we saw him,” a tall boy with freckles says, “was inside the church. Right about the time your sisters were fighting for the bouquet.”
I turn back to Rosie and she’s about to scream. “Don’t panic.”
“Don’t panic! What the hell was I thinking? I have a stalker pretending to be my son’s father and I didn’t have eyes on him today! I just…” She scoffs. “I just went about my day, pretending to get married, and now my son is missing! So do not tell me not to panic, Amon Parrish! I am not overreacting!”
“No, that’s not what I meant, Rosie.”
“Cross!” She’s not listening to me. In fact, she starts running off, back to the Revival grounds.
I realize in this same moment that it’s gotten dark. Not just twilight, but actual dark, and this is the signal for the fireworks to start. The shrieking whistles of the launch followed by the booming of light and sizzle of burning explosives overpowers her desperate calls. And this makes her panic for real. She stops in place, bending over as she yells his name.