“You could have bought her something from one of the booths and pretended you won it,” said Kiko.
“Hah,” said Dom, smug. He poked Kiko’s shoulder. “I knew there was a little criminal in you somewhere. Telling Chad to lie?”
“Well, I guess I could give her my pickles,” said Chad, referring to a jar of Dill’s heart-shaped creations sitting on the floor next to his coat. “But I was going to give them to Roy.”
“Pickles are not romantic, Chad,” said Dom.
“Because you know what romantic is,” said Kiko. Dom was about to give a good retort to that when his number was called. He jumped up, ticket in hand.
“You put a ticket in for lawn flamingoes?” asked Kiko as he dashed off to collect his prize. Dom loved the cute look of mild terror on Kiko’s face. Oh yes, he’d won a flock of plastic flamingoes, and it was going to be perfect.
* * * *