Harriet and Sam chewed on the last of her share of the butter cookies as they finished up their picnic in the park. He stared at the crumbs clinging to his fingers as sparrows hopped around on the acorn-littered ground. "Do you think they'd like to have some?"

She handed him a napkin. "That much sugar is probably way too much for their tiny little hearts to handle, sweetie. They'd have a bad case of sugar jitters from now until January."

Sam accepted her explanation with a nod. "I bet they wish they were still dinosaurs. Then they could eat all the cookies they wanted! Isn't that right, Dad?"

He made the pachycephalosaurus dip its head and let out a soft growl of agreement.

His real father was sprawled across the couch back home, snoring up a storm. He'd barely budged since coming home from the museum the day before, only dragging himself out of the living room to eat and give Harriet a kiss when she shared a cookie with him.

"I don't doubt that," she said. "Speaking of dinosaurs, how was the museum yesterday?"

"It was awesome! There was this really cool paleo... pally..." He threw his hands in the air when the right word refused to come to him. "Dinosaur person. She even let me have a fossil!" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Dad thinks she got it from the gift shop, but she said she dug it up herself."

He proudly presented a small, serrated tooth. She'd seen countless teeth just like it in sundries stores in Hawaii, right next to the starfish magnets and cans of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. That didn't mean Frank had to be such a party pooper about it, though. "Wow, honey, that's amazing! You'll have your own little collection before you know it." She packed away their picnic, leaving only a sack of birdseed outside the basket.

Sweat dripped down their backs as they strolled along a path lined by pecan trees. Harriet kept a firm grip on Sam's hand, pulling him closer to her side whenever he wandered toward the squirrels scampering in the grass. This was far more often than she would have liked, not that she could blame Sam too much. Those glorified rats kept twitching their tails with a teasing confidence as they sat nibbling on their nuts.

The ducks and geese paddling in the pond looked just as comfortable despite the sheet of algae covering the water's murky surface. The only other animals that dared to break through the greenness were the turtles, and even they clung to half-rotten logs as they sunbathed.

"Wanna do the first throw?" Harriet asked as she handed Sam the birdseed.

"Hey ducks," he yelled, "come and get it!" He hurled the seeds into the water so hard a mother duck gave a startled quack of alarm as they pelted her offspring.

Despite the rough start, it wasn't long before a peeping parade of ducklings clustered around the shore. "There you go," Sam said as he tossed them another, gentler handful. He offered the sack of seeds to his mom.

She chuckled as the biggest duckling chased after one of his smaller siblings, not even noticing as the tiniest of the bunch swooped in to snatch the seeds with a happy shake of her tail feathers. Between the adorable ducklings and the breeze dancing through the trees, it was hard to imagine a more pleasant way to spend a day at the park.

That is, unless you happened to be a goose.

The honking flock descended upon the ducks like a thundering storm cloud. Wings slapped the water as the geese fought to gobble up the seeds.

Sam leaped away from the edge of the pond as a gander snapped at him. Its bright orange beak clamped on his shirt. "She's half T-Rex!" he screamed as he struggled to free the fabric from the ferocious goose. The goose yanked its head back, nearly dragging him off his feet as his tennis shoes slid through the mud.

Harriet tightened her grip on the bag of birdseed and smacked the offending waterfowl in the face. "Let's get out of here!"

She and Sam sprinted to the safety of the main picnic area as a cacophony of furious honking broke out.

Their sides heaved as they struggled to catch their breath. Sam broke out in a fit of nervous giggles. "It must have thought I was a loaf of bread."

"The day I start looking at my food like that, you'd better put me on a diet," Harriet said. "I don't think my blood pressure could take that much screaming."

"Yeah, she sounded like a pterodactyl." Sam let out a high-pitched screech that made a passing dog walker usher their Labrador away at a brisk trot. "But BAM!" He smacked a fist against his palm. "You nailed her right in the head."

Harriet chuckled at his dramatic reenactment. "You bet I did. Nobody's getting away with biting you on my watch." She jokingly waved a warning finger at his dinosaur. "Not even your dad."

"He's a plant-eater, Mom."

"As long as he doesn't mistake you for an adorable piece of broccoli, I think—"

Harriet's phone rang.

Their mood dampened like fallen leaves left to rot in the rain. "Sorry, honey," Harriet said before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I've got to take this."

Nia's voice burst through the phone in all of its blustering glory. "I swear if that man thinks he can just skip out on my grandbaby's birthday he'd better start saving up for a butt transplant 'cause I'm gonna whoop his behind!"

"It's nice to talk to you too, Mom," Harriet deadpanned. She twirled a finger in a circle by her head as Sam stifled a laugh.

"How is everyone's favorite six-year-old?"

"Awesome!" Sam hollered into the phone as his mom held it in his direction. "Mom beat up a pterodactyl."

"That's nice, honey." A sigh rattled through the cellphone as Harriet put it back up to her ear. "I just don't get why you didn't marry that Vicky girl while you still had the chance. She didn't miss the party, and she brought us the loveliest lasagna the other day."

At least that meant they weren't relying on takeout. As much as they loved to spoil Harriet when she came over, her parents weren't the best at taking care of themselves. "We've been through this, Mom. She didn't want kids." Her voice lowered to a grumble. "Until she decided to adopt."

"Yes, well, you still didn't have to settle for the most bruised apple in the bunch did you?" Nia paused to listen to some indistinct murmuring on her end before her voice brightened into a cotton candy sweetness, the cloying kind that hid something sorrowful underneath. "Your father wants to talk to you."

Harriet's pulse quickened. "Is everything okay, Dad? Hang on, I'll grab the keys and—"

"Hold on to your petals, my little peony. No need to get worked up."

She self-consciously smoothed down her hair. He'd always compared it to a flower mid-bloom. "It's impossible not to."

Coughs rattled through the phone. "I suppose so, but I was hoping we could find something we could do to make things a bit more bearable. How would you feel about coming over to visit in a couple weeks? Say, Halloween? We could do a party and everything."

Harriet glanced at Sam. She silently pulled him away from an anthill he'd been seconds away from smashing with his dinosaur. "I'm sure Sam would love for us to come visit y'all, especially if you dress up." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Just don't wear anything too scary, okay?"

"Aw, but I was hoping to dust off the old werewolf mask."

"Dad!"

He chuckled, which turned into a round of coughs. His voice crackled like autumn leaves as he said, "Okay, no mask, but I will spoil him so much it will be scary."

Muttering, muffled laughter, and a thunderous sigh signaled he'd passed the phone to her mom. "Honestly, Elijah, you know I'm not going to wear something like that, especially not in front of Sam!" Harriet could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "Adult costumes are no fun. You either scare the bejeezus out of the kids or you end up dressing like some floozy."

"Who cares," Harriet said. "I just want candy, especially with that sweet, sweet post-holiday discount. November first is where it's at."

"Can't argue with that." Her mom's voice cracked slightly. "I just wish every holiday didn't make me think about, you know..."

Harriet squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to stay put. "I know. He'll have fun, though. I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you. And take care of yourself, honey." Harriet imagined her mom wagging an eternally crimson-painted nail at her. "Momma knows when you're not. Don't make me drive down there."

"I won't. I don't think the mailbox would survive another hit!"

After they shared a moment of all too precious laughter, Harriet ended the call.

"Is Grandpa okay?" Sam asked. He'd stopped terrorizing the ants long enough to give her a concerned look.

"Yes, honey. He's super excited to see you on Halloween."

That perked him right up. "Make sure he has lots of Hershey's! And Skittles and Jolly Ranchers and everything!"

"I will." Not that she needed to. He'd do anything to make sure Sam would remember him when he was older. She drew in a shaky breath. "I'd better start trying out recipes for that party. Think you're up for being my taste tester?"