He groaned. “You kill me, woman!”
The party lasted late into the evening, and in my memory, I’d always think of dancing in front of the bonfire in Kes’s arms, our backs to the flames, the sound of the waves breaking on the shore below. And if my memory was a book, I’d say that hope and happiness were printed on every page.
As the bonfire died down, people headed to their tents or RVs, in ones and twos, or in Tucker’s case, in threes, as he disappeared with two pretty acrobats who Kes told me performed a trapeze act.
Finally, we climbed the stairs to our own bed. Bo was still fastened around Kes’s neck, not seeming as if he wanted to let go.
He’d arrived equipped with his own hammock bed inside a large dog crate which we’d squeezed into a corner just outside our bedroom door.
Kes wasn’t happy about that, but I wasn’t happy with the idea of Bo being in our bedroom. I mean, wild monkey sex is one thing, but not when the monkey is watching.
Kes just hated the idea of cages—it was personal for him.
“If Bo is used to the crate, he might feel anxious without it,” I said persuasively. “Why don’t you put him in there, but leave the door open if it bothers you. But I’m telling you, if he pees on our bed or poos in my shoes, you’re cleaning it up.”
Kes shrugged. “Wouldn’t bother me, but he won’t. Ollo said he’s used to living with people.”
“He’s used to other people,” I said patiently. “He still has to get to know us.”
Kes unwound Bo from his neck, and the little fella scampered into his crate and pulled a blanket over his head.
“See!” I smiled. “He’s quite happy in there.”
Kes grinned at me as he started to undress. “He wants his own bed—just like a little kid.”
I watched for a moment, enjoying the show, but I was trying not to get too distracted because there was something I wanted to ask him. I sat brushing out my hair as Kes tossed his t-shirt onto a chair.
“Do you want kids?” I asked tentatively. “It’s just you’ve never said anything before.”
Kes paused as he kicked off his pants.
His eyes were guarded when he replied. “Don’t you?”
“I do. I think I do. Not yet, but one day.”
Kes stared at me steadily. “Do you want my kids?”
And then I understood. My poor boy still didn’t believe that I’d stay. Why should he? No one in his world ever had before.
I reached over and took his hand.
“One day I’ll want kids, and when I do, I’ll want them with you.”
He nodded, but his wary expression was still there.
“Would you . . . bring them on the carnie circuit? Because I know a lot of moms stay home with the kids . . .”
“Kes, I’m an elementary teacher. I think I could handle teaching them on the road for a few years. It might be different when they reach high school age, but Con managed it, didn’t he? And anyway, I think we’re kind of jumping the gun here. You’d have to knock me up first.”
I thought he’d take that as an invitation and we’d have fun with the slice of birthday cake that we’d brought up with us, but Kes just sat there staring at me.
“I never used to think I was lucky,” he said slowly. “I looked at other kids who came to the carnival with their moms and dads, and they all looked happy, like a picture book, you know? And I thought, ‘Yeah, they’re lucky.’ But I never thought I was. Until the day I met you. Your parents looked so pissed, but you were excited and happy and no one was going to spoil that for you. I looked at you and thought, ‘I wonder if you can be lucky without parents? Maybe it’s okay.’”
“And now?”
His eyes met mine.
“And now I look at you and think, how the hell did I get to be so fucking lucky?”
I climbed into his lap, my hands brushing across his smooth, warm skin and we kissed for the longest time.
Kes was a sensual, sexual man, but tonight his kisses were sweet and gentle and I understood what he was saying with them: Thank you.
He rested his head against my chest as I stroked his crazily curling hair that was already growing out.
“I didn’t give you your present yet,” I said quietly.
“Every day you’re in my life is winning the fucking Lottery.”
I laughed softly. “But I have a real present for you, too. Don’t you want it?”
“Fuck yeah! I’ve never had a birthday present before.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Never?”
Kes looked uncomfortable. “Dono got me a cell phone for my 13th birthday. Well, it was Con’s old one. I guess that counts.”
My smile was shaky as I nodded. “Of course it counts! And this year you got Bojangles.”
He grinned. “And a blowjob.”
“You’re not going to forget that, are you?”
“Hell, no!”
I laughed again and scrambled off his knee, reaching under the bed. I passed him a small package wrapped in gold paper and silver ribbon.
“Wow, it’s wrapped!” he said, his eyes shining. “Definitely never had that before.”
And instead of ripping off the paper, he opened it slowly and carefully, smoothing out the paper as he went.
He looked up at me, his eyes almost glassy in the dim light.
“You . . . you kept it?”
“Yes. I’ve always treasured it.”
He held up the solid silver photo frame and examined the postcard inside. I’d been ten years old when a postcard in Kes’s doutbful handwriting dropped into the Andersen mailbox. And he’d drawn the most exquisite picture of a little hobbit, a memento of the summer we’d read a book together.
For years, it had been my most treasured possession.
Kes’s voice was hoarse when he spoke.
“I am so fucking lucky.”
“I love you,” I said quietly.
“Love you more.”
And then we made love, the sound of the waves finally lulling us to sleep.
“I want to tie you to our bed,” Kes mumbled into my hair.
I laughed and hugged him even more tightly.
“We’ll do that when I come home.”
“We could do it now,” he said hopefully.
“Don’t tempt me!”
He nudged his hips against mine, making it quite obvious that he did want to tempt me.
Outside, Tucker honked the horn in Zach’s truck.
“I have to go,” I said sadly.
This time, Kes’s hands dropped away and he sighed softly.
“I’ll only be gone a week.”
I didn’t know who I was trying to make feel better, because a whole week without Kes was going to be horrible. At least I’d be flying home the day before Christmas Eve.
Jennifer had made me promise that I’d go visit her and Dylan as I hadn’t seen them at Thanksgiving, and wouldn’t be traveling to Minnesota for Christmas or New Year’s either. Basically, she’d guilted me into it, saying how much Dylan missed me and that Mom wasn’t getting any younger.
Kes had offered to come, but he had a meeting with Seymour Michaels later on in the week to sign the contract and be present for a press launch as part of the deal. I didn’t want to go to it, having no interest in seeing any of those people again, although I knew I’d have to at some point.
Not only that, Kes and Tucker had been working hard on the cabin, but there was still so much to do. It turned out that Tucker had mad skills as an electrician, although he hadn’t been very forthcoming on how he’d obtained them. When I asked, he just said, “Something I must have picked up.”
But he’d done a great job in rewiring the cabin and had even found out what cabling the phone company needed to get Wifi to such a remote location. He and Kes would be doing some major replumbing while I was gone, as well, turning the smallest of the bedrooms into a bathroom. It sounded like a lot of work for a cabin we’d only be keeping for a ye
ar before our new house was built. On the other hand, I would definitely enjoy showering indoors.
So I was traveling to Minnesota by myself.
Sighing, Kes picked up my suitcase and walked out to the truck with me. Then, uncaring that Tucker was impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Kes kissed me hard, deeply, trying to brand me with his mouth, his tongue, and the fierce love that I knew he felt, but could barely bring himself to speak.
“I’ll call you when I get there,” I said, stroking his cheeks, memorizing the feel of his scruff on the tips of my fingers, the warmth of his skin, the burning emotion in his eyes.
Kes gave one quick nod, then helped me into the truck. He stepped back and fixed his angry gaze on Tucker.
“Drive safely, fucker.”
I was sure he meant to say ‘Tucker.’
Tucker just grinned at him and gave a salute.
“I’ll take care of her, boss,” and he winked.
Kes all but snarled.
I wished he was driving me, but his mom was sick with another bout of pneumonia and he’d promised to visit her.
Tucker put the truck in drive and I waved out of the window, watching Kes disappear behind me. We held each other’s gaze until he was out of sight.
I settled back into my seat with a heavy sigh: I was missing him already.
“Don’t worry, sweet cheeks. I’ll cheer him up for you,” said Tucker with a sly smile.
“Hmm, that’s what I’m afraid of,” I said wryly.
Tucker laughed. “He used to be a lot more fun.”
“Shut up!”
“Aw, just fuckin’ with you! It’s good to see you guys happy.”
“Maybe you need to find a good woman,” I suggested.
“Hell to the no!” he yelped. “I thought we were friends! Why would you go and wish that on me?”
“Fair enough,” I laughed. “What about if I find you a bad woman?”
“Now you’re talking!”
It was a long drive to Sacramento airport, over four hours, but soon I was waving goodbye to Tucker. When I checked my phone, I already had a message from Kes.
* socks without ute *
I stared at it for a couple of seconds before I translated. Sucks without you. Aw, who’d have thought my carnie boy could be so sappy? I loved it.
I spent the next few hours reading, a luxury that I didn’t seem to have much time for anymore. I’d also printed off some application forms for several jobs so I could do a rough draft before I emailed them. A couple looked promising—one of them was about online tutoring for elementary-age kids who were home-schooled. I liked the sound of that.
Jen met me at Minneapolis-St.Paul airport with Dylan attached to her hip, but as soon as he saw me, he charged over, almost knocking my feet from under me.
“Aunty Aimee! I got a bicycle like Motorcycle Man’s and I’m going to do awesome stunts just like him.”
I winced and glanced up at Jennifer.
“I’ll have to get him better health insurance coverage next open enrollment period,” she sighed. “Ever since he met Kes, he’s been obsessed.”
“Um, sorry?”
She smiled. “So, how is life with the carnival?”
“Well, we’re on winter break now. We’ve been working on the cabin at Arcata. By the time I get back, we’ll have indoor plumbing!”
“It sounds a bit basic,” she shuddered. “Bet you can’t wait to have it all fixed up.”
“Well, it’s just temporary. We’re not really doing more than the minmum to make it habitable. You try showering outside in December!” I shivered at the memory. “We’re going to see some architects in the New Year to work on plans for something we like. I told you we’re going to try and have that sort of ‘commune’ idea—but with better plumbing.”
“Now that will be fun,” Jennifer laughed. Then she paused. “So, um, I invited Mom to stay for a few days.”
I wanted to groan, but I couldn’t argue, not with Dylan in the car. I shot her a look and she gave me a small, apologetic smile.
“She’s really looking forward to seeing you.”
I let that pass without comment as well.
“Yay!” said Dylan happily. “Granny’s coming over! She bakes the best cookies.”
I had to agree with that—Mom had kitchen skills. It was just a shame that her people skills weren’t as wonderful.
When we reached Jennifer’s house, I was annoyed to see that Mom had already arrived.
“Really, Jen?” I said quietly. “I came to spend time with you and Dylan.”
“I know, I know. But she really wants to see you,” Jennifer whispered.
I hoped that she was right, but I had a bad feeling about this. After I’d left my job and moved in with Kes, I wrote to Mom explaining the decision I’d made and hoped that she could be happy for me, for us. I hadn’t heard back from her, and she hadn’t responded to the two messages I’d left on her answering service either. I hadn’t told Jennifer that part.
We walked in through the garage and Dylan, the sweetheart, wanted to help carry my suitcase.
We struggled in through the door together, giggling, and then Dylan saw Mom and ran to give her a hug. I smiled, too, although mine probably looked a little strangled.
“Aimee,” she said.
“Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“Getting old,” she replied.
I withheld a sigh: she wasn’t even 65 yet.
I gave her another brittle smile, then excused myself to take my suitcase up to the guestroom. Needing a minute alone, I sat on the bed and turned on my phone to text Kes, but Mom followed me in.
“I can’t believe you’ve been so foolish,” she said, immediately the door closed behind her.
“Mom, please don’t start.”
“I won’t let you throw your life away on that . . . on that . . .”
“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t,” I said sharply.
“I raised you better than this!”
“Better than what? Better than being with a man who loves me with his whole heart, a man who would do anything for me?”
“Oh, he’d do anything for you, would he?” she clipped out. “You’re the one who’s given up her career, her home, her friends. I don’t see him giving up living in a trailer park!”
“How dare you!” I hissed. “You’re so judgmental! Kes has a good career, a great one, if you’d only bother to see it. He’s kind and thoughtful and he loves me. I don’t have to teach in a school, I have other options, career-wise. But even if I didn’t, I thought long and hard about this decision—I didn’t make it lightly.”
Her mouth turned down.
“I’m so disappointed in you, Aimee,” she said. “I really expected more.”
“Mom,” I said, as she turned to leave. “I’m happy—doesn’t that mean anything?”
Her expression wavered for a second and I thought she’d say something, but then she just left.
I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted from what was sure to be only the first of many such conversations. I wasn’t certain how much I could take, even for my sister’s sake.
A few minutes later, Jennifer knocked on my door.
“Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want it,” I said, my voice muffled by the pillow I was holding over my face.
She pushed the door open.
“Oh God, has she started already?”
“Yep.”
“I’m so sorry, Aimee. I really thought this would give you a chance to talk.”
I sat up and propped the pillow behind me.
“She doesn’t want to talk, Jen. She wants me to be as miserable as she is.”
“That’s not true.”
“It feels like it. She hasn’t got anything good to say about Kes.”
“You haven’t told her much good about him,” she reminded me gently. “All she knows is that you’ve given up your job and your apartment to live in a trailer with him.”
“It’s an RV not a trailer,” I said irritably.
“Whatever you call it—but you can see that she’d be worried.”
“That’s not true! I wrote to her about the cabin and how he’d bought the land and we were fixing it up. I told her about the movie producer and Kes’s World Record. But none of that means anything to her.”
Jennifer paused and rubbed a hand over her face.
“I know. I guess because it’s all so . . . out of the ordinary. Normal people don’t travel with the carnival nine months of the year, or throw themselves into the air on motorcycles, or have movies made about them. It all sounds like wishful thinking to her.”
“I told her I was happy, Jen, but apparently that doesn’t count either.”
Jennifer sucked her teeth. “She thought she and Dad were happy. She thought Brian and I had the perfect marriage. She doesn’t believe that love can last.”
I threw my hands up in despair. “So how am I supposed to prove to her otherwise?”
“You could invite her to stay so she can see for herself.”
My eyes popped open in shock.
“You’ve got to be kidding! She wouldn’t last five minutes with Kes. She’d say something derogatory and it would be World War Three—and frankly, she wouldn’t win.”
“Really? You don’t think Kes can handle her? You’re always saying that he can charm anyone, that everyone loves him. You don’t think that would work on Mom?”
“You’re totally manipulating everything I say!”
“Is it working?” she asked hopefully.
I sighed. “I’ll think about it—that’s the most I can say right now.”
And since we only had one bedroom now that we were using the cabin’s spare room to install a bathroom, if Mom visited, she’d have to bunk with Tucker in the RV. Maybe we’ll hold off on Jen’s idea for a year or ten.
But after she left me alone, I thought about what Jennifer said. Maybe I could try harder, but I didn’t like the idea of Mom being in our home either. The cabin was our happy place; I didn’t want her spoiling it.
I decided then that I wouldn’t let Mom get to me. If it meant I had to be the adult in the relationship, then I would. Somehow.
I took a deep breath and went downstairs to join the others.
Dylan stared up at me with his wide blue eyes and asked innocently, “Have you been bad, Aunty Aimee?”
The Traveling Woman Page 20