The wheel stalled briefly at the very top, the way they always seem to for exactly one car every ride, and we sat there swinging slightly, the noise of the midway fading into something almost peaceful from up that high.
“Funny place for a conversation like this,” Marcus said, looking down at the tiny figures of Jonah and Lily arguing over funnel cake toppings below.
“Better view than a driveway,” I said.
He laughed at that, properly this time, the whole cart rocking slightly with it.
“Thank you,” I finally said. “For the signature. For all the Tuesdays before it too.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said, “for the envelope. Best birthday present anyone’s ever handed me, and it wasn’t even my birthday.”
We stayed up there a while longer, not saying much else, just watching the whole small, ordinary world of that county fair spin slowly beneath us, exactly the kind of view a person only earns after enough Tuesdays have finally added up to something worth seeing.
