The Predicament of Persians - A.G. Henley Page 0,13

to name an ugly stuffed cat after me to remember me?”

“Don’t call our baby ugly.” She pets the cat’s head and tucks it in closer to her side.

I can’t speak coherently for a second. Imagining the act of having children with this goddess is too much for my already fevered brain to handle.

“My apologies. I didn’t realize he was our child. Joe Junior is a beautiful boy,” I manage to say.

She laughs. As the ride lifts us up to the highest part of the wheel, she points out various spots around downtown, like the roof of Union Station and, if we turn around in our seat, the top of the convention center, where CatFest will be. The mountains are in front of us to the west, but it’s too dark to make them out. Still, the lights and faint sounds of the city around us are magical.

I put my arm across Kathleen’s shoulders, and she snuggles herself and the cat closer. Her eyes catch mine.

“Tonight has been unforgettable, Joe. All thanks to you . . . and Joe Junior.”

I pull a face. “How does he get any credit? He’s just sitting here grinning. Not pulling his weight at all.”

She smiles and her gaze softens. “Yes, but he’s ours.”

I lean closer, my heart pounding with anticipation. Closer still. I brush her hair out of her face, and her eyes find my lips. I lean in, and—

The cart jolts to a stop, and we bump noses. Ouch. We lean back, wincing.

“Sorry, folks, ride’s over,” the pimply ride attendant says cheerily while opening the door to our compartment. Kathleen collects the cat and steps out.

With a grumpy look for the kid, I check my watch and catch up to Kathleen. “Where to next? We only have about half an hour before the park closes.”

She points to a white wooden coaster in the distance. “The Twister. I’ve been saving the best for last.”

Chapter Six

“Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say ‘Ay,’

And I will take thy word.”

- Romeo and Juliet (Act 2, Scene 2)

Kathleen

I tuck Junior under one arm, and Joe takes my free hand. Our arms swing easily between us. Effortlessly. Like everything we’ve shared tonight.

I’m trying not to think too much. To focus on enjoying each moment of this spellbinding night.

“Would you like anything to eat or drink on the way?” Joe asks. “I’d be willing to bet there’s a birthday funnel cake with your name on it.”

I look over at a brightly lit booth with frothy pastel pink and blue confections. “Cotton candy?”

“You got it.”

Joe walks over to buy one for me. I take the opportunity to admire his physique from behind. He’s in excellent shape. I didn’t tell him which color I want, but I need to. He brings me pink. I pull off a fluffy chunk and pop it in my mouth, savoring the sugary flavor of childhood.

“Let me take Junior for a while so you can eat that without getting him sticky,” Joe says.

I make an offended noise. “Are you implying I can’t take adequate care of our child?”

“I’m implying a sticky stuffed animal will be no fun to take back to the hotel with you.”

I hand him Junior, but my spirits sag. I don’t want to think about going back to the hotel. I don’t want this night to end. But it’s getting on toward eleven, and everyone knows Cinderella’s gown turns to rags and her cat child reverts to a cheap fair prize at midnight.

I pick at my treat, and Joe nudges my arm. “Everything okay?”

I try to brighten my expression. “Yes, of course.”

“Still want to ride the Twister or have you had enough?” He gestures at the coaster looming ahead.

“No! I mean, yes, I still want to ride it. Just as soon as I finish this. Would you like some?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, thanks.”

“Too good for cotton candy?” I tease.

“Not good enough for it, I’d say.”

I don’t see how that could be possible. Joe Davis seems perfect in every way. But I don’t argue. I finish as much of the goodie as I can stand and throw the remains away.

The Twister is lit up, the tracks bright white against the charcoal night sky. We follow a path that winds beneath the coaster. I wince slightly as the cars zoom deafeningly over our heads.

“What is it about roller coasters that you like so much?” Joe asks as we walk.

I watch the cars bolt along the track overhead. “I guess it’s the rush.