“That carried on for a few years. I’m guessing the next part, putting it together from what Ollo said and a few things Dono said over the years. Mom decided to get pregnant again. Maybe she thought that with two kids, dear ole Dad would have to do the right thing and marry her. But he didn’t. When I came along, it just made everything much worse.”
I could hear the catch in Kes’s voice, and he stopped speaking for a moment. He took several deep breaths before he went on.
“Dad broke it off with her, saying that she’d tried to trap him, and I guess that part is true. But maybe the bastard should just have kept it in his pants in the first place. Asshole hadn’t heard of condoms?”
Kes blew out an angry breath.
“That’s when Mom started drinking. Ollo told me things got pretty bad after I was born. There were a lot of . . . men . . . you know, and she wouldn’t listen to Dono. Gran took care of us mostly. I only have a few memories of Mom, just snapshots really. I remember her taking us up on the Ferris wheel—that was the best memory I have of her. I remember a lot of yelling. I remember being hungry when we were on winter break, when she’d go away for days at a time. Con would try to keep us fed, but sometimes there was only cereal in the house and sometimes not even that. She’d always be sorry when she came back.”
My eyes flashed to Kes. He’d told me that he would never ever apologize because the word ‘sorry’ didn’t change anything. I pressed my lips gently against his chest and we laid there in silence.
His arms tightened around me, and he kissed my hair several times before eventually he began to speak again.
“She was drinking heavily all of the time by then. My whole childhood, I don’t really remember her sober. The RV always smelled like alcohol . . . or vomit. Con used to try to take care of her. He’d put a blanket over her when she passed out on the bathroom floor. In the morning, she’d look so guilty and she promised it wouldn’t happen again, but it always did.
“After the weekend where we’d had nothing to eat, Gran took us to live with her and Dono. They’d done more to raise us, so they were like parents anyway. I think it was a relief for Con; he didn’t have to be the adult anymore. He was 11, maybe not even that old. But I was only five or six and I missed my mom. Con used to get so mad at me and yell that we were better off without her. I knew he was right, but I still missed her. Con remembers more about that time than I do. I think I’ve blocked a lot out. I don’t ever remember her laughing, and she hardly ever smiled. That’s a pretty shitty way to spend your childhood.
“Dono didn’t really trust doctors. Mom should probably have been medicated much earlier. Maybe she was trying to drink herself to death, I don’t know, but she damn near succeeded.”
Kes sighed and stared up at the ceiling. I wanted to make it all better. I wanted to take away the pain of that lonely five-year old boy who loved his mom even though she was a lousy parent. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. All I could do was care for the man lying next to me.
Kes still wasn’t looking at me when he continued his story, but his fingers compulsively loosened and gripped my shoulder, an eloquent expression of the pain he was feeling.
“Dono found her one day, unconscious on the floor. The doctors said she’d had a massive stroke, brought on by long-term drinking and alcohol poisoning.”
“Oh, Kes!” My gasp was soft, but I knew he heard me, because his fingers tightened on my arm for the briefest of moments.
“She was permanently paralyzed down her right side and she lost the power of speech. She doesn’t remember things too well. She doesn’t always recognize me. Sometimes if I’m around for a few days, but not always then. She remembers Con more. She was 27 when it happened. She never recovered.”
His voice had become quieter and quieter, finally dying away altogether.
“Oh my God, Kes! That’s such a terribly sad story. You were so young . . .”
I wrapped my arms around him, trying to push his pain into the past. I could feel his body shuddering, so I just held him tighter and kissed his cheeks, trying to tell him that it would be alright, even though it never would. I tasted salt on my kisses as tears ran down his face, the deep well of his emotions overflowing.
Finally, his heaving gasps began to ease and he took a deep, calming breath, roughly wiping the tears from his eyes.
“I’ve never told this to anyone before,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Ollo knows and Zach has guessed some of it, but I never trusted anyone enough to tell them. But you were right, Aimee, we shouldn’t have secrets between us, not if we’re going to . . .”
His words stuttered to a halt. I wanted to promise him the world, that we’d always be together, but there was still so much unresolved and I couldn’t do it.
He searched my face for answers, then closed his eyes and continued the horrible, awful story.
“Dono didn’t have insurance and the hospital bills were killing him. We couldn’t take her with us and she needed full-time care. He’d taken out every loan he could on the carnival, but it wasn’t enough.”
He paused, taking a long breath before he continued.
“So in the end Dono was forced to call Dad. He agreed to help and to pay for the care that she’d need for the rest of her life, but Dono had to promise that no one would ever know. No one. When Con turned 18, he had to make the same promise, sign some legal forms, and the asshole made me do it, as well. He knew we’d never risk him pulling the plug on her care. And he couldn’t risk anyone finding out about his two bastard kids and their alcoholic mother. It’s only been in the last few years that Con and I have had enough money to take over the payments and tell that asshole where to go. Sorcha knew that I was paying out some big money on a regular basis—I think she thought that I had a kid stashed away somewhere . . .”
Kes’s lips curled in a disgusted sneer when he mentioned Sorcha’s name. I didn’t dare mention that I’d had the same thought.
“Where is your mom now?”
“In a long-term care facility near Arcata Bay. I visit her from time to time, and Con sees her when he’s stateside.” Kes met my eyes. “Pretty fucked up family, huh?”
“You’re not fucked up,” I said softly. “You’re amazing.”
He grimaced and looked away.
“I mean it, Kes. To be as strong as you are . . . to have gone through all that. None of this is your fault. Your father . . .”
“If I hadn’t been born, they could have . . .”
“No! You were a child, a baby—they were the adults. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s ancient history now.”
“Except it’s not, is it?”
His eyes snapped open.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve let what happened then affect you now. You do blame yourself—I can hear it in your voice. There was no reason that people shouldn’t know about what happened as soon as you and Con were able to pay for your mother’s care yourself. But you didn’t tell Sorcha; you didn’t want to tell me. And I know I’ve forced it out of you, but why does it have to be this big secret now?”
He shrugged but wouldn’t look at me.
“I guess . . . it’s partly habit. But it’s not exactly the most fun stuff to share with anyone. And hell, I don’t need your pity, Aimee. I’ve had enough of that in my life, people looking down on me because of my family and our lifestyle, or because I’m fucking illiterate.”
“Kes . . .”
“So I don’t need it from you, okay!”
I leaned up to look him in the eye. “Kes, if it hurts you, it hurts me. That’s not pity.”
When he didn’t answer, I settled back into his arms and we lay without speaking as the sky began to darken.
Eventually, his breathing evened out and his limbs loosened. I wriggled free from his embrace, careful not to wake him. He looked so vulnerable lying on my bed, his dark eyelashes fanning across his cheeks. The scruff on his face and the heavy muscl
es of his body didn’t stop me from seeing the lost, lonely child he’d been. Maybe we never outgrow the loss of early innocence.
I tiptoed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind me, and wandered into the kitchen. I stared listlessly at the fridge, thinking that I should eat, but feeling uninterested in food. It felt strange to be in my apartment knowing that Kes was sleeping in the next room.
And he’d done as I’d asked, what I’d begged him to do. He’d told me everything, but now I wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge. Did it help to move our relationship forward? Yes, undoubtedly. Because he’d shown me the dark center of himself, the things that shamed and hurt him the most. Was it up to me now? We had trust, yes, but the practicalities hadn’t changed. Our lives were thousands of miles apart, and our dreams didn’t seem to be any closer together either. Something would have to give. Or rather, one of us would have to give.
My stomach growled, interrupting my thoughts.
I pulled out everything I needed for a pasta salad, trying not to make too much noise. Puttering around the kitchen helped me to relax and let go of some of the tension I’d been feeling since Kes walked back into my life.
I let my mind drift back to the summer we’d spent together. The pictures that ran through my mind were so vivid, so full of heat and color, texture and touch. I remembered the fierce concentration on his face when he was preparing for his stunt show . . . or when we were in bed, those gray eyes storm-dark as he stared down at me. I remembered the flames dancing across his bare skin as we sat together beside our nightly bonfire, or the thrilling, terrifying times he’d show his fire-breathing skills, flames jetting from his mouth, leaving the scent of smoke clinging to his body. And I remembered his easy laugh, the way he lightly teased me into a better mood or into being less serious, to live for the here and now, not worrying about tomorrow. I remembered the softness of his smiles and the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me as if no one else existed in the entire world.
And I thought about my job—the difference I could make in young lives, the career I thought meant everything to me. And I imagined a life without Kes, a colorless, ordinary life. Because I was ordinary, and he was extraordinary. But for some strange reason, I was what he wanted. He hadn’t said he loved me, but he was here and I desperately wanted to believe that it was true.
Kes slept the whole evening. I ate at my small table, staring out at the town’s lights, then prepared my books for school tomorrow and set the alarm on my phone for an early start.
When I finally crawled into bed, Kes curled around me without waking, his arms reaching for me even in sleep.
His steady breathing rocked me toward my dreams. I don’t know if it’s possible, but I swear I slept with a smile on my face.
When I woke up, it was still dark although a sliver of gray in the east told me that dawn wasn’t far away. My back and shoulders were chilled, and I rolled over to find Kes’s side of the bed empty and cold.
Panic shot through me and I bolted up staring around wildly. The bedroom door was open but the apartment was silent.
Emotions rioted through my body, shocking me into high alert and my hand flew to my mouth. He wouldn’t just leave, would he? He wouldn’t go while I slept, would he? Would he leave me a note? No, no, of course he wouldn’t!
I ran to the living room, my heart threatening to climb up my throat.
The room was empty. Nothing. No one.
I ran to the kitchen and then to the bathroom. No Kes, no note. Nothing. Nothing!
Frantic, I ran to the window to see if his motorcycle was still there.
Yes! Yes. Thank, God.
Cool relief rushed through me when I saw that it was parked where he’d left it. And then I saw him. He was sitting on a patch of dirt at the side of the building, under the one and only tree that made up the tiny backyard.
His eyes were open and he seemed to be staring up at the sky, the moonlight making his face glow and turning the bare skin of his chest to silver. My breath was stolen away by his beauty, and I knew I would always look dowdy next to him. The thought gave me a pang.
Don’t be stupid, my happy heart said. He’s here for you, he stayed, for you.
I pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants over my sleep shorts, slipped on my sneakers, and ran down the stairs.
Kes was still sitting, but I saw his head incline toward me as I walked across the grass, the street lights highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones.
“Kes!”
He turned around, his expression subdued.
“Hey, baby,” he said quietly. “Did I wake you?”
“No, but when you weren’t there . . . I thought you might have gone.”
He shook his head and lifted his arm so I could slip in under his shoulder and lean against his warm body. He placed a soft kiss on my hair.
“Are you okay?” I asked tentatively.
He shrugged.
“I’ve spent so many years on the road, being inside feels weird.”
My heart lurched.
I pressed my hands against his solid chest, reassuring myself that he was real, that this was real, that he hadn’t left.
“Will you come back inside now? I’ll need to start getting ready for work soon, but we could have breakfast together?”
“Sounds good,” he smiled. “I’m starving.”
We walked back up the stairs and my eyes were drawn to the smattering of hair on his chest and stomach.
“Couldn’t find a shirt, huh? Or are you just trying to impress the neighbors?”
He smiled. “I didn’t want to wake you while I was looking for it. And the only girl I’m interested in impressing is making my dick hard right now.”
I swallowed a breath. “Kes!” I whimpered.
He laughed quietly. “Just telling it like it is. How long have you got before school?”
“Not enough time,” I said firmly.
“I could be quick.”
“The words every woman longs to hear,” I smirked at him.
He grabbed my wrists and pulled me into his arms, kissing me with a possessive thoroughness.
I broke free, panting, my cheeks burning from heat and the rough stubble on his face. Kes was breathing heavily, too.
“Hurry home from school,” he said.
I shook my head at him as his eyes smoldered. How the hell was I going to concentrate today?
“You’re a bad influence,” I said breathlessly.
He winked at me. “Nah, if I was being bad, I’d carry you into the bedroom right now and lock the door. You wanna skip school?”
I ignored that comment, pushing past him into the apartment.
He laughed and let me go.
While I ate toast and sipped my coffee, Kes inhaled a huge plate of eggs, eating as if it was his last meal.
“Hungry much?”
He nodded, his eyes growing dark.
“One track mind,” I muttered.
He shook his head. “I’m eating, talking and thinking about fucking—that’s called multitasking.”
I couldn’t help the warmth rising in my cheeks as his eyes burned into me.
“What are you going to do while I’m at school?” I asked, still feeling flustered.
Kes shrugged. “Take a look around, I guess. Check out the town. Maybe go for a run.”
“There are lots of great places to run, and there’s a path by the river that joggers use.”
Kes’s smile lifted on one side. “Have you taken up running, Aimee?”
“Ugh, no! I’ve seen people running there. But I’m a member of a gym on Main Street.”
The smirk was still there as I finished speaking.
“You’re a member of a gym?”
I was a little irritated now. “Yes, as it happens! I do a Zumba class once a week, and sometimes Yoga.”
“Sounds hard core,” he said, grinning at me.
“You try doing a Zumba class! It’s not easy. You’d be as out of bre
ath as anyone!”
I didn’t believe that for a second, but he was being annoying.
Kes leaned forward across the table. “Is that a challenge?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound confident.
He gave me a shit-eating grin that told me I’d totally been played.
“Okay, so what’s the bet?”
I thought quickly. “You have to come to a staff dinner with me. My Principal throws it every year, so it’ll be all my work colleagues . . . and you’ll have to be civil to Gregg all evening.”
I held my breath. I’d already committed to being there on Saturday, but I wanted Kes with me.
Kes blinked once then nodded.
“You . . . you don’t mind?” I stuttered, surprised by his easy acquiescence.
“It doesn’t matter because you won’t win,” was his confident reply.
I frowned at him. “Well, what do you want if you win?”
His smile dropped away. “You come with me to LA for my Thanksgiving show.”
“Oh.”
He scowled. “What does ‘oh’ mean?”
“Kes, I can’t afford another plane ticket right now. I’ve got my rent and student loans . . .”
He cut me off dismissively. “I’ll pay for your ticket.”
I sighed. “Look, this challenge thing isn’t a good idea. My Principal expects me to go to the dinner regardless. It’s considered a bonding experience and all my colleagues will be there, including Gregg. But you . . .”
“But me what? Are you ashamed of me?”
His voice was quiet, and I could hear the hurt in his tone.
“No, Kes, never,” I said, taking his hand. “But yesterday . . . well, you looked pretty mad, and you’ve already told Gregg to leave me alone.”
“Guy’s a fucking lot louse!” he spat.
“I don’t disagree and I don’t even know what that means, but he’s also a colleague, and this is my work. I want you to go with me, but you have to promise, promise not to start anything, whatever he may or may not say. Best behavior, please? For me?”
He took a deep breath. “Fine, I promise not to punch the prick. Anything else?”
I smiled and leaned across to kiss the pout off his lips. “Nope, we’re good.”
The Traveling Woman Page 3