Free Bowled Over by Victoria Hamilton Page A

into Jaymie’s heart as she watched, and she knew that if she could just get past Joel’s defection enough to be open to love, Daniel Collins would make a wonderful husband.
If
that’s what she wanted. They’d only been going out for a month or so, and she had time before they took their relationship to any further depth. It was all speculative anyway.
    People kept implying that Daniel was so interested in her and that she ought to jump at him. She didn’t see it that way.Marriage was not an experiment, and she didn’t intend to do it twice. It wasn’t Daniel who was pushing anyway; he had been nothing but patient and kind, not pressing her on the physical side of their relationship beyond a good-night kiss, which so far had been pleasant but not earth-shattering.
    She had time.
    A grand finale of pops and booms and crackles echoed off the riverbanks. They all stood, lit sparklers and sang “The Star Spangled Banner” as one last firework burst over the St. Clair, the red, white and blue shower reflected in the glassy surface below. Someone screamed, and someone else laughed and a dog began to howl.
Poor puppy
, Jaymie thought. Some dog owners had no sense. Dogs hated fireworks. But finally the last sparks floated to the water, and the crowd applauded. It was time to pack up and go.
    Brock meticulously folded up his card table, as Violet, who would stay the night with Valetta, herded his weary, hopped-up, whiny kids down to where their car was parked. He and his children lived on a hobby farm outside of town, and thus the car was a necessity. Becca and Kevin laughed together as they folded their lawn chairs. Kevin had about half an hour before he had to be down to the dock for the last ferry back to Johnsonville.
    “I have to go to the washroom,” Jaymie said, folding her blanket and adding it to the pile in their little red wagon.
    “The washroom? You’re not going
here
, are you, in the park?” Becca said, wrinkling her brow, her pale face yellowish in the old-fashioned lights over the walkway.
    “I sure am.”
    “It’s a public washroom, Jaymie, and it’s been busy all day here. It’ll be disgusting!”
    “Becca, I’ve had four cups of tea. I
need
to go! I should have gone at home when I took Hoppy back, but I didn’tthink about it. Besides, I don’t have your delicate sensibilities about washroom cleanliness.”
    She strode off, but as she approached the cinder-block building, a square structure with both women’s and men’s washrooms as well as a public drinking fountain on each end, she heard a noise, and forlorn sobbing. Standing in the mud by the water fountain was Connor, Kathy Cooper’s nephew. Jaymie approached, and bent over him. “Connor, are you okay? Where’s your mommy?”
    He stuck his hand in his mouth and shook his head, still making a moaning noise in the back of his throat. She couldn’t make out what he was saying.
    “Can I take you back to your Mommy? She must be here somewhere.” She straightened and looked down to the grassy area where she had last seen Kylie Hofstadter and Andy Walker. There was just enough light from the public washroom lighting to allow her to see. She took Connor’s hand to lead him away, toward the few people who were still folding chairs and blankets as they prepared to leave the park; maybe someone would know where Kylie was. But Connor tugged her back toward the washroom. “Is Mommy inside?” The boy shook his head. Jaymie stuck her head in the ladies’ washroom anyway and hallooed, but there was not a soul inside. The crowd outside was thinning as well.
    “Come on, Connor, your mom and grandpa must be looking for you. Let’s go find them.” She took his hand, but he again tugged her back to the washroom. “Are you trying to tell me she’s here somewhere?”
    He nodded. Darn preverbal boy; Tabitha, about the same age, would have been able to tell her. “Well, where is she?”
    Connor
seemed
to understand, and he pointed to the washroom,