I wanna go over there! No, wait, over there! Oh, Daddy, can I have cotton candy?” My daughter’s eyes shine with the sort of frantic light only sensory overload can provide.

I had no idea the fair would be anything like this. The street is completely clogged with people and their exuberant energy. I’ve heard it is amazing, which was why I wanted to bring Maddie here, but I might have reconsidered if I’d known it was going to be this frenetic.

No, I wouldn’t have.

Not when I see how overjoyed she is.

The day is hot and humid as it made Maddie’s already curly hair nearly stand on end. She looks so funny as she swivels her head back and forth in an attempt to take in the clowns, jugglers, face painters. Musicians, dancers, street artists. And the food, so many competing smells I can hardly tell one from the other. Sweet, salty and oily have all come together to create the sort of perfume one can only ever smell at an event such as this.

A little girl with pigtails passes in front of us and I suddenly realize that I need a woman in my life to show me how to do a little girl’s hair. Maybe Liz, our new nanny, can give me a few pointers. Lord knows there’s nobody else to ask.

Not…

Nope. I can’t think about her. Today is Daddy time with Maddie. Besides, I didn’t like the way I felt when I saw Sam with Ryland. I knew there was nothing going on between them, but I wanted to knock his head off his neck so bad, my teeth ached. I never felt that way about any woman before Sam. It is a bad sign. Also, it pissed me off when Sam looked at me yesterday as though I had imagined our last encounter when she had fucked me as if she was starving for it. I hate women who run hot and cold. I don’t need complications in my life.

Maddie tugs at my hand. I look down at her. “Can I have cotton candy?” she reminds me.

“You can, but only if you eat something real first,” I say decisively. I have learned that I need to be firm with Maddie. On Saturday, she somehow managed to manipulate me into letting her eat Nutella for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When I think back now, I don’t know how exactly she did it, but I’m wiser now. A lot wiser. We won’t ever be having a repeat of that. When she next comes up with another gem like ketchup is a vegetable, I’ll know exactly what to say.

“You mean like a funnel cake?” she asks innocently.

See what I mean about this kid. I frown.

Now she starts laughing, her eyes sparkling brighter than ever. It seems as though she’s been skipping ever since we arrived, the light sundress Erica gave her as a present swishing around her knobby, little girl knees.

I’ve had to hold back the urge to tell her to stop, to watch where she’s going even though I’ve kept a tight grip on her hand since the moment we stepped outside. I don’t want her to trip and skin her knees, but I don’t want to tamp down that exuberance, either. I’m beginning to recognize the fine line a parent has to walk. “No, not funnel cake. How about a hamburger?” I suggest since I don’t think the chances of finding anything healthier here are very high.

“C’mon, Daddy, please. It’s a holiday!”

I gaze at her adorable face.

“Please, Daddy.”

Poor thing had to live with Regina for the last two years. Oh, what the hell? She’s right. I should loosen up a little. Just this one last time. “Fine,” I say sternly. “But no more sweets after that until you’ve had dinner. And that’s non-negotiable.”

My daughter is a smart cookie and knows when she’s won, so she readily agrees and gives my legs a quick hug. Then she finishes a ball of cotton candy bigger than her head while we walk through the throng of people.

Afterwards, we find a stand selling fresh-grilled burgers and hot dogs. I normally favor a very healthy diet, but my mouth floods with saliva when the scent of grilled meat hits my nose.

Minutes later, we’re sitting on a random stretch of curb with our burgers, watching the world go by. She has so many questions. I barely remember the days of my childhood, when everything was so fresh and new. When life was only just beginning to make an impression on me. And it’s funny, but she helps me see things through those eyes again. I feel younger when I’m with her. Less jaded.

“Why does that man look so unhappy?” she asks, jerking her chin in the direction of a dour old man whose mouth is set in a deep frown. His brows are drawn together as he elbows his way down the sidewalk. He’s dressed sloppily, or maybe it’s the sweat rolling off his forehead and soaking into his t-shirt that gives that impression.

Normally, I would ignore him, or at most mutter something in his general direction if he were to bump into me. Now, with my daughter seated beside me, I look at him. I really look at him. “He’s probably lonely,” I decide. “Tired… sad…and hot. Old. He doesn’t have anybody to enjoy the day with him. Maybe he doesn’t like crowds.”

“He lives in a big city, though,” she reasons before taking a bite from her burger, leaving ketchup at the corners of her mouth.

“That’s true. I guess he should be used to it. Some people are so grumpy, though, that they don’t notice all the good things around them. All they see is what makes them unhappy.”

She thinks about this, chewing slowly as she does. I can almost see the wheels turning. “That’s a shame. I wish I could do something to make him happier.”

I kiss the top of her sun-warmed head. “I know you do, but it’s important to remember that you can’t make everybody happy. You know? Some people are just plain old unhappy and you have to leave it at that. Don’t take it personally. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Daddy, can I give him my burger?”

I stare at her. “Why do you want to do that?”

“Because he’s hungry and I’m not,” she says simply.

For a second, I am stunned by the humanity in my daughter. Then I feel shame flood through me. That thought never even crossed my mind. I grasp her hand and stand up. “Come on.”

We walk up to the man. “Hello.”

His body shrinks and he looks at me with an expression that is almost fear. Maybe, all he knows is people who want to move him on or hurt him. I open my wallet, pull out all the bills in it and thrust it into his hands. “Go buy yourself some lunch.”

He looks shocked. “You don’t have to give me this much,” he says in a trembling voice.

“It’s not from me. It’s from my daughter.”

He looks at down at Maddie. She grins at him and his eyes fill with tears. “God, bless you, child. God bless you,” he mutters. He reaches out a hand and touches her head, but his hands are so filthy I feel a sudden flare of alarm and the protective instinct that only Maddie manages to inspire in me, takes over. I pick my daughter up and seat her on my shoulders. “Good luck,” I say to the man and walk away. I look up and Maddie is waving to the man she just helped.

“Look, Daddy, there’s a lady holding two ice cream cones in her hands,” she cries from high above my head.

“Good for her,” I say, navigating my way through the crowd

“Now I want ice cream,” she says.

I shake my head at the audacity of my kid. “I thought we agreed no more sweets until after dinner now.”

“But when I saw the ice cream…” she trails off, following the progress of the double-fisting woman with great interest.

I barely stifle a smile as I scan the immediate area in search of the ice cream stand. Just for today.

“Daddy! Daddy, quick put me down,” Maddie says, squirming on my shoulder.

“What?” I ask, lowering her to the ground. The next thing I know, I’m being led through the crowd, zigging and zagging in between clusters of people.

“Slow down! What’s the emergency?” Then, I almost slam straight into the emergency, which isn’t an emergency at all. It’s a petite, curvy, blonde woman with familiar eyes and cheeks that flush the instant she recognizes me.

“What are you doing here?” I manage to choke out, only inches from Sam.

She looks gorgeous in a thin-strapped dress and sandals, her hair in a bun at the back of her head. She looks soft and feminine, a contrast from her professional attire.

She frowns slightly, eyes moving this way and that as if she’s searching for an escape route. “Uh, I live in the city,” she mumbles. “And I didn’t have any other plans, so…”

“Are you here alone?” I can’t help but ask. She better not say she’s here on a date because I would relish the feeling of my fist against his jaw.

“Yes,” she blurts out, still looking for all the world like a deer in headlights.

I’m absolutely the last person she wants to see right now, that much is obvious. But she’s hooked too, and there’s no escape. I know how tight my daughter’s grip is, and she’s now grasping Sam’s hand with both of hers.

“Hi, Sam!” she beams, nearly bouncing up and down in her excitement.

Sam smiles down at my daughter her tension dissolving somewhat. “Hi, pretty girl. I love your dress. Are you having fun today?”

“Yes, Daddy and I have been having sooooo much fun! We saw jugglers and a man who ate fire! He ate real fire! Did you see him?”

“No, I didn’t.” Sam chuckles, shaking her head.

“Daddy says it doesn’t hurt him.”

The two of them giggle together and I wish she didn’t touch my heart the way she does. Something tells me that she doesn’t want anything to do with me outside the office—and she would’ve bolted just now—had Maddie not grabbed her before she had the chance. Dammit, she shouldn’t get along so well with my little girl. All she’s doing is making it impossible to forget her.

“Why don’t you come along with us?” I suggest, giving the pair of them an easy smile. “We were on our way to get some ice cream and there’s another two blocks we haven’t even checked out yet.”

Maddie bounces harder than ever, practically bursting with excitement, still holding Sam’s hand. “Please? I never had so much fun in my whole life!”

“Not ever?” Sam asks, a frown briefly touching her face as she considers this. She’s probably wondering how dull and joyless Maddie’s life has been up to this point.

“No! I never went to a fair before. This is one of our fun things, right, Daddy?”

I nod. “We made a list of all the things she wants to do, and this was one of them.” Inspiration hits like a bolt from the blue. “I bet it would be even more fun if you walked around with us.”

Her brows lower until I can barely make out her eyes. She’s pissed off at my blatant use of Maddie as a ploy to get her to come along with us.

I grin and shrug. So bite me!

“Can you come with us, Sam?” Maddie screams.

She heaves a big sigh, then she turns to my daughter and gives her the biggest smile. It’s  warm enough to melt the ice caps. “All right, then,” she says. “Let’s see what flavors they have at the ice cream stand. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Chocolate!” Maddie proudly announces, taking one of my hands with the one she’s not using to hold Sam firmly in place. She beams up at me, then stage whispers, “See? I told you she should have ice cream with us!”