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save face, I take his hand in mine and practically drag him towards the action.  Fletcher doesn’t say anything as he takes large strides to keep up with my fleeting pace.  Once we arrive at the brightly lit food trailer, I look over and catch him snickering.
    “What’s so funny?” I ask, taking my place in line.
    “I bet you were the bossy kid growing up, weren’t you?” he quips.
    I ball up my fist and hold it in his line of vision. “Yep, and I was the kid who went around giving fat lips, too.”
    “I absolutely believe that,” Fletcher remarks.
    I plant the same fist steadfastly on my hip.  “Really?” I ask, incredulously.
    Fletcher feigns fright.  “Oh, no!  Are you going to hit me right here in front of all these people?”  One of the women in line turns to give me a nasty glare.
    “No, I’m going to save that for our second date,” I retort.
    “Ah, so you’ve committed to a second date with me.”
    “I did no such thing.  That was a joke reply.”
    “Joke reply.  Pffft.   If ever there were a Freudian slip that was surely it.  You want to date me.  Admit it.”
    “I’ll do no such thing, and if you don’t cut it out, our first date is as good as over.”
    He squints his eyes at me.  “I call idle threat on that one.  You’re having far too good of a time to leave.”
    “I don’t make idle threats, and the jury’s still out on the good time.  I’m here because of a sweets craving.”
    “Which you got because of….”
    “You.  I’ll give you that one,” I hold up my index finger, “but that’s it.”
    Fletcher chuckles.  “Victory never tasted so good.”
    I’m next in line, but before I can order, I’m stopped by a cacophony of pre-pubescent giggles.  “Uncle Fletcher, you came!” a young girl with dark curly hair and sky blue eyes exclaims as she throws herself into his arms.  The trio of preteens with her say in unison, “Hi, Uncle Fletcher,” before shamelessly resuming the giggle fest.
    “Of course I couldn’t miss your carnival night fundraiser, Molls.  Have you been having fun?” he asks, placing her on the ground.
    “Lots!  I dunked mean old Principal Collins with my first pitch!”
    “Atta girl!  See, Uncle Fletcher’s pitching practice pays off.”
    “I wish you’d teach me how to pitch,” one of the trio requests.  Two more requests and another round of giggles follow.
    “Is she with you,” the dark headed girl asks loudly enough for me to overhear.  Fletcher nods, and before he can speak, she’s thrust her hand toward me.  “Hi!  I’m Molly.  Did you know that my uncle is a hero?  He’s even got the medals to prove it.”
    “That’s enough, Molly.  She’s not interested in all of that,” Fletcher says, suddenly red with embarrassment.
    I arch a brow.  “Hero, huh?”
    Fletcher vehemently shakes his head.  “Far from it.  Veteran, yes.  Hero, no.”
    “Molly!  What did I tell you about wandering…  Oh, Fletcher.  I didn’t expect to see you here.”  A woman who looks like she’d just finished sucking a bag of lemons approaches.  It’s a shame that she wore such a deep scowl; otherwise, she’d be a beautiful woman.   Her hair is golden brown and falls to her shoulder blades, while her eyes are the same shade as Molly’s.  Though she has pale skin, it’s becoming on her, not wan looking. 
    “Julia.”   Fletcher’s greeting matches her icy tone.  “Molly asked me to come, so here I am.”
    Julia shoots daggers in Molly’s direction, but once she realizes that Fletcher isn’t alone, she thaws a touch.  “I’m Julia Halsey, Fletcher’s sister.  And you are?”
    “Savannah Mason.  It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Likewise,” Julia dryly replies.
    Fletcher pulls a couple of twenty dollar bills from his pocket and passes them to Molly.  “Here, share some of this with your friends.  Go have some fun.”  Before a word can be uttered the group is gone.
    Julia sighs heavily.  “I was