The tent lies ahead, reaching into the sky, circusy and colourful, striped, slanted, big. The edges turned up slightly, bulging down and arcing up, water collected in the distended material, water balloons sighing with envy. She glances back at me, catching my gaze for a second. Something glistens in her eye slightly, from the rain probably; but maybe not. My breath catches slightly in my throat. Not the rain.The bench she leads me to is covered by the tent, but only barely. Wind shifts and rain blows in sideways and up and down and we sit there. Staring at each other. Saying little. She makes this expression. As hard to describe as she is. For what adjectives run together to make a person like her. It's sad, hangdog, heartbreaking. I have no idea why. Or what it means. Or what I should do. All I want to do is kiss her. Instead I smile at her, laugh, coward that I am.Her normal face is back. I mention that expression she had on. No explanation but it comes back, and I lurch inside.. ”From over at the picnic tables, Cathy glanced over in the direction of the men. The smile on her face was quickly replaced by a frown. The unhappy expression was quickly picked up by the other women and they turned as a group to see what the problem was. From the expressions and gestures being made among the men, it was obvious that things weren’t going well over there.Sharon said, “They don’t look too happy.”“You don’t think that Dad said something nasty to Sam, do you?”“Harry looks mad,” commented Lisa watching her boyfriend. The look he was giving her father was not exactly friendly.Sharon looked at the body language of Sam and said, “He probably called him Little Shit. I was afraid of that.”June, seeing the tension in Lisa and how the men were faced off against each other, said, “Jack is still trying to get over the fact that you and Harry are intimate. That’s not supposed to happen until you get married.”“That’s stupid. You guys didn’t wait until you were married. Why should.
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