As Jen’s car neared our old home, I could see that the white boards outside that had always been kept pristine, were peeling and weathered. Weeds pushed up through the driveway, and the whole place felt sad and neglected.
The hickory tree was still standing proudly, taller now, its thick branches brushing against my old window with every shift of the faint breeze: tap, tap, just like someone else who’d tapped at my window. I smiled, remembering hiding in that tree with my books, and the many, many times that Kes had climbed it so he could jump in through my bedroom window.
Mom seemed happy to see us, making a huge fuss of Dylan. Maybe she was a good grandma.
It was too hot to be inside, and too hot to sit in the sun. So we sat in the shade of my hickory tree, drinking homemade lemonade, and watching Dylan dash in and out of the sprinkler, his happy shrieks making me smile.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of the summer, Aimee?” Mom asked, oh so innocently.
Note my sarcastic voice: she knew I’d broken up with Gregg-with-two-g’s, and was fishing for information.
“Funny you should ask that, Mom,” I said, as Jennifer closed her eyes in despair. “I’m running away to join the carnival.”
“I don’t think that’s funny,” she said crossly.
“It’s not meant to be,” I replied calmly. “Although you might be amused to hear that I took Dylan to the fair outside Minneapolis last week. We bumped into an old friend of mine. Maybe you remember Kes?” And I stared at her.
She shifted uneasily in her seat, but chose to comment on how hot the weather was instead.
“He told me everything,” I said quietly. “That he came here, begging to see me. You never even told me. How could you do that, Mom? How could you not tell me?”
“You were such a difficult teenager, Aimee. How am I supposed to remember every little drama?”
Then she excused herself to go and rub more sunscreen onto Dylan’s back and arms.
“What did you expect?” Jennifer asked gently. “She’s the queen of denial.”
“I want her to admit she lied!” I snapped.
“Why?” Jennifer pressed. “It’s obvious that you know what happened, and it’s also obvious that she’s not going to admit she was wrong. She’s weak, Aimee. She always has been. It took me years to figure that out. Don’t ask her to give you more than she’s able.”
I looked at her thoughtfully. “When did you get to be so wise?”
Jennifer smiled. “I think it comes with being a mom—you spend a lot of time seeing things from someone else’s point of view.”
I nodded, accepting the excuses she made for our mother. And it helped. Despite the way Mom had lied to me—for years—I found myself forgiving her. Just a little. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about more neutral topics, most of which centered around Jen’s job and Dylan, which I didn’t mind. Mom warmed up enough to ask me how I liked my school, and what I thought of living on the east coast. It wasn’t a completely awful afternoon.
When we prepared to leave, and Jennifer was getting Dylan situated in the car, I was left alone on the porch with Mom.
“I’m going on the road with Kes,” I said. “Just for the summer. I don’t know if we can have a relationship. It’s been a long time and we’re both adults now. But I wanted you to know that’s what we’re doing.”
Mom’s face was stiff. “Do you want me to be happy about that, Aimee? That you’ll be living in a trailer, performing like a seal in public?”
I shook my head sadly. “I’d like you to be happy that I’m happy. But no, I don’t expect anything from you. Bye, Mom.”
I kissed her on the cheek and climbed into the car.
Jennifer saw me swipe a traitorous tear from my cheek, and she squeezed my fingers.
“Proud of you, kiddo,” she whispered.
I was upstairs packing when I heard the rumble of a large vehicle coming up Jennifer’s road.
“Motorcycle Man!” yelled Dylan, and he shot into the front yard, hopping from foot to foot as Kes maneuvered the huge RV to the curb.
It looked even larger on the small suburban street than when I’d seen it at the fair. This would be my home for the next seven weeks. With Kes. I gave a silent squeal, feeling like the girl who’d just got asked to the school dance by the captain of the football team.
Kes stood out front talking to Dylan, his face creased with a wide smile, his eyes hidden by Aviator shades—real ones, these days. When he saw me, the look on his face made me feel like I’d won the lottery, and when his eyes dropped to my suitcase, his smile became even bigger.
I realized then that he thought I’d change my mind. That little hint of his uncertainty opened the gateway to my heart another inch. Damn him.
He strode forwards, and I thought he was going to really kiss me, but he hesitated at the last second, simply offering a feather light touch of lips across my cheek.
Then he scooped up my suitcase like it weighed nothing, and carried it to the RV as if he was taking it hostage—which was probably close to the truth.
Dylan jumped inside, and Kes gave him the tour. Dylan was bouncing on his toes, so happy and excited that I couldn’t help being caught up in it. I remembered this feeling, the innocent childlike belief that magic could happen because your house had wheels.
And it was magical: it felt like we were stepping into an unknown world, like Columbus, like Neil Armstrong.
And Kes … it should have been business as usual for him, but he seemed almost as excited as Dylan.
Jennifer wrapped her arm around my waist.
“If my son runs away to join the circus, I’m totally blaming you,” she whispered.
“What if your sister runs away to join the circus?” I whispered back.
“Totally blaming him,” she said, jerking her chin at Kes.
Jennifer offered to make Kes a cup of coffee before we left, but I could tell he was itching to be on the road, his need for movement almost compulsive.
“I’ll call you,” I said, hugging her and Dylan tightly.
“You’d better!” she said, sniffing a few times.
“Ready?” asked Kes, holding out his hand.
“Ready as I’ll ever be!”
His grin widened and he winked at me. “This way, princess,” and he ushered me inside.
I plopped down into the enormous captain’s chair, staring at a dashboard that looked like it belonged on the Starship Enterprise.
Kes pushed a button and the engine roared into life.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he grinned at me.
“Neither can I!”
His smile dimmed. “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said.
Then he leaned across, gripping the back of my head as he kissed me thoroughly.
I felt dizzy and immensely turned on by the time he released me. What a great start to my vacation. I looked up in time to see Dylan’s disgusted expression and Jennifer shaking her head, a huge smile on her face.
As Kes pulled out into the street, I rolled down the window and waved wildly, watching until they were out of sight.
“Where are we going?” I asked excitedly as Kes punched a new destination into the GPS.
“Anywhere you want, Aimee,” he answered, a huge grin on his face.
I pinched his arm lightly. “Really, where?”
“Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Then Olathe, Kansas; Amarillo, Colorado, Salt Lake City, Reno, and finishing up in California.”
“Oh, wow! That’s so exciting!”
Kes grinned at me. “Take us about five hours to reach Cedar Rapids today. I thought we could stop for lunch in Mason City.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“You ever been to either of those places?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope. Still sounds perfect.”
He laughed happily.
We passed through the outskirts of Minneapolis, and I watc
hed in the wing mirrors as the city faded into the distance, the road ahead opening out to a patchwork of fields and lakes. My heart was light, as if I might do something corny like break into song. Kes kept glancing at me, and each time he caught my eye, he grinned and winked.
We headed steadily south, passing through Owatonna and Albert Lea. But instead of stopping at Mason City as he’d suggested, Kes turned west toward Clear Lake. I had to close my eyes as Kes expertly weaved the enormous RV through impossibly narrow streets, until he stopped alongside a small lake.
“Picnic?” he offered.
“Wonderful.”
After the air conditioning in the RV, the heat was bordering on brutal. But Kes had picked the perfect spot at a pretty lakeside café, under spiraling oak trees.
“This seems fancy,” I said, smiling at the beautiful setting and linen covered tables.
“What did you think it would be?” Kes asked. “Greasy truck stops and fast food?”
I cringed, realizing that was exactly what I’d expected.
“Well, yeah, usually,” he admitted with a grin, “but I wanted something better than that for you.”
“You don’t have to treat me differently,” I said gently, “or spoil me.”
“Yes, I do,” he replied quickly.
I threw him a glance, but that closed expression was back.
I sighed. Obviously our whole experience in communicating would be a work in progress.
When the waitress came to take our orders, Kes asked for a ham and cheese sub, and I chose a tuna salad.
It was peaceful sitting by the lake, and I realized how unusual it was to see Kes like this. He was always in motion, but for now, he seemed to be at peace. I was happy to think that I might have had a hand in that.
“Will we see Ollo and Zachary tonight?”
He smiled. “Yep, they’ve been there for a few days, and Tucker and Zef got there last night.”
Oh. I’d put them out of my mind. I didn’t care for either of them much. I was pretty sure it was mutual.
“‘Zef’ is a strange name … almost as strange as ‘Kestrel’,” I said, raising one eyebrow.
Kes smiled. “Yeah, except his name is really Joseph, but he prefers Zef.”
“What’s their story? How did you meet them?”
Kes shrugged. “They were on the circuit. Tucker was already doing some stunt riding. He was with this rinky-dink wall of death act, real boring shit.”
“I’m hesitating to ask, but … wall of death?”
Kes grinned. “Where you have a drum—something that looks like an empty silo or tube shape—and the audience stands at the top looking down. Then you get one or two riders using the centripetal force to hold them up.”
“And that’s boring?”
“Hell, yeah,” he said, looking disgusted. “Anyway, Tucker was looking for a change, so we set up our own act. We found Zef drifting in Idaho. He’d just got out of prison and…”
“Wait! Back up! Zef just got out of prison! What did he do?”
Kes shrugged. “I never asked.”
“Oh,” I said faintly. “How long have you all been together?”
“With Tucker for three years, and Zef for about 14 months.”
When Kes asked me to come with him, I hadn’t really thought through the implications of traveling with two single men—and now I was finding out that one was an ex-con. Not only that, but the guys had a well-established routine and also slept in the same RV as us. It was going to take some getting used to all around.
“What about Sorcha?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Kes scowled. “Does it matter?”
I took a moment to think about that. Did it matter? “I guess not, but I’d like to know.”
Kes fiddled with his water glass, and for a moment I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he looked up at me and spoke firmly.
“She traveled with us sometimes. Mostly, she flew on ahead to set things up, especially for the bigger gigs, like in Santa Fe or LA.”
Then I had a horrible thought: had Sorcha lost her home because of me?
“And when you were on your winter break?”
He shrugged, looking irritated.
“Mostly I was traveling overseas.”
“Kes, I’m asking if Sorcha has lost her home because of … what’s happened?”
He pulled a face. “Nah, she’s got an apartment in Sacramento.”
“But on the road … she lived with you?”
This time his answer was reluctant.
“Yeah.”
“Oh. How long were you … together?”
He blew out a breath. “Seven years. Give or take.”
I couldn’t lie—it was a kick in the gut. But I was going to have to move past it. Somehow.
“Thank you for telling me.”
He nodded curtly. I took the hint: topic closed.
“What about you?” he said stiffly. “You must have dated since…”
Case not closed—apparently it was my turn now.
“I didn’t date in High School. No one could compare to this hot carnie boy I used to know.”
Kes looked very pleased with himself when I said that. But I wasn’t blowing smoke: it was all true.
“When I went to college, I thought I should, I don’t know, at least try to enjoy the college experience and go on dates. You know, try and move on.” I paused, glancing up at his somber expression. “It was casual until my Senior year.”
“What happened Senior year?”
“I met Gregg-with-two-g’s.”
“Who?”
“Some douche who strung me along for four years then cheated on me.”
Kes scowled. “He cheated on you?!”
“I appreciate your outrage. That’s pretty much how I felt when I found out.”
Kes looked positively vicious, and I shivered.
“Which brings me to now,” I said as cheerfully as I could manage.
Kes raised his eyebrows, gazing at me with surprise.
“You’ve only had one boyfriend … since us?”
“I know you think that Gregg was an asshole for cheating on me, but I’ve recently come to the understanding that I wasn’t fair on him either.”
“You mean you cheated on him, too?” Kes sounded stunned.
“Well,” I said, dropping my eyes, “it occured to me that all the years I was with Gregg, I was in love with the memory of someone else.”
Kes studied me closely, then he leaned forward and kissed me with all the intensity of which he was so capable.
A red-faced waitress coughed discreetly as she dropped the check onto our table, then backed away muttering an apology.
“We’ll finish that later,” Kes said decisively.
I took a long drink from my glass of ice water, trying to cool myself from a heat that had nothing to do with the midday sun.
“What do Zach and Ollo do these days?” I said after I’d gathered my scattered wits.
“Zach is the carnival director where we’re going—Mr. Health & Safety.” Kes grinned at me. “Ollo is old-school: he calls himself a roustabout. He’s done pretty much everything at one time or another. He’s Zach’s right-hand man.”
“I’m excited to see them again.”
Kes grinned. “They’re just about shittin’ a brick to see you!”
I blinked at him. “Really? You told them I was coming?”
Kes rolled his eyes. “Of course I freakin’ told them you were coming!”
I smiled happily. Kes was already on his feet and paying the bill. It was only then that I realized we hadn’t discussed money. I wasn’t going to be a kept woman; I wanted to pay my way.
“I’ll leave the tip,” I told Kes.
“Already taken care of,” he growled.
“Okay, I’ll get the next meal.”
The look in his eyes told me that might be trickier than it sounded. A part of me rather liked that he was taking charge—and
the part of me that was a career woman with her own apartment, who was used to making her own decisions, was really kind of pissed—even though I was a teacher making crap money, and with loans to pay back.
It was going to be an exciting seven weeks.
The GPS announced the Cedar Rapids carnival site was just 40 miles away. I bounced in my seat like an overly excited toddler when I saw the first poster. Kes grinned and we were both in ridiculously high spirits, infected with the thrill of a new adventure. I felt young and carefree and daring to be in love.
“Oooh! I want cotton candy!” I shouted. “I haven’t had that in forever! And a hotdog—don’t hold back on the onions. I shall breathe my onion breath all over you!”
“Babe, you’re turning me on!” Kes grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Shut up! That’s disgusting!”
He laughed happily.
“And don’t call me ‘babe’, that’s sexist,” I teased, pretending to be offended.
Kes didn’t miss a beat.
“Babe.”
“Baby.”
“Babealicious!”
“Baby face.”
And then he started singing in a ridiculous falsetto, “Baby! My sweet baby!”
“Oh my God! Did you just quote ‘Dirty Dancing’ at me?”
“No,” he snorted.
“Yes, you did!”
“No way! That’s Mickey and Sylvia, ‘Love is Strange’.”
“It sure is, because you just quoted from one of the great chick flicks of all time!”
Kes shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “Did not.”
“Did, too!” Then I laughed. “Oh my God! Are we eight?”
Kes muttered something under his breath, but I didn’t try very hard to hear him.
“I have something here,” I said, “that will impress you.”
“You impress me all the time. Babe.”
“Ugh, you did not just go there!”
He winked at me, showing his cute dimple, so I had to ignore him.
“I stayed up very late compiling a road trip playlist of songs about carnivals.”
Kes rolled his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes until you’ve heard it.”
“Fine, I’ll just guess. ‘The Carny’ by Nick Cave.”
The Traveling Man Page 22