Stuffing her change in her pocket, she turned and saw Nathan. He was holding a big orange balloon.
"Goes with your outfit," he told her, then gently looped the string around her wrist.
She was going to cry. Jackie felt the tears well up. It was only a ball of colorful rubber held by a string, she knew. But as symbols went, it was the best. She knew that when the air had finally escaped she would press the remains between the pages of a book as sentimentally as she would a rose.
"Thanks," she managed, then dutifully handed him the ice cream before she threw her arms around him.
He held her close, trying not to show the awkwardness he was suddenly feeling. How did a man deal with a woman who cried over a balloon? He'd expected her to laugh. Kissing her temple, he reminded himself that she rarely did the expected.
Roberta F. [CC BY-SA 3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
"Would you care for a balloon?" His voice took on a formal note.
"Yes, thank you," she returned in a matching tone. "A blue one."
The next two hours were the most carefree Foxy had spent since she had begun her social duties as Mrs. Lance Matthews.
The Heart's Victory