Kes parked, but remained with his hands locked around the steering wheel.
I rested my hand on his arm, giving him my silent support.
Eventually, he unclamped his hands and we walked toward the impressive building.
It looked colonial, with its whitewashed walls, louvered windows and wide wraparound porch. Tall, shady trees graced the immaculate lawns, and dotted across the grounds I could see numerous benches and comfortable seating areas.
Kes rang the doorbell, its soft peals echoing through the building. After a few seconds, we were greeted by a motherly-looking woman in floral scrubs, the kind you usually see on a children’s ward in hospitals.
“Kestrel! What a lovely surprise. We weren’t expecting you today.”
“Hi Kathy, thought I’d drop by.”
“Well, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” she said, then looked at me expectantly.
Kes seemed to be in a trance, so I introduced myself.
“Aimee Andersen,” I said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aimee,” she said, shaking hands. “I’m Kathy Parker. I’m one of Maura’s primary aides. I see you’ve brought flowers. How thoughtful of you. She loves the scent of roses. And they’re yellow, too!”
I nodded. “Kes said that was her favorite color.”
The nurse smiled warmly at both of us.
“She’s been a lot better since she finished the antibiotics, although that last bout of pneumonia has made her regress a little.” She paused as Kes grimaced. “Well, follow me. Maura’s having quite a good day today, but it’s probably best if I’m with you. She’s not very good with strangers sometimes.”
Kes was gripping my hand so hard, it was hurting me. I didn’t say anything because I wondered if the nurse meant that Kes would seem like a stranger to his mom.
I couldn’t imagine how painful that must be.
She led us through a wide, sunny corridor, with large, colorful paintings fixed to the walls, and cheerful furnishings everywhere. It smelled of beeswax and cleanser, but it wasn’t unpleasant. I could tell that it was an expensive place, and I knew that Kes and his brother must pay out a lot of money for their mom.
Kes gripped my hand even tighter, and I had to give a gentle tug on his sleeve so that he’d ease up.
He frowned and loosened his grip immediately. I thought I saw the word ‘sorry’ hover on his lips, but he never said it.
At the end of the corridor, the nurse turned into a room drenched with sunshine from huge picture windows that opened onto a patio decorated with potted palm trees and colorful flowers. A hospital bed was covered with a pretty cream and blue coverlet, and the pillows looked plump and comfortable.
My eyes were drawn to the woman sitting in an electric wheelchair. She’d been positioned so she could look out into the garden. I could only see the back of her head, but even from this distance, I saw that the color of her hair matched Kes’s.
The nurse spoke first.
“Hello, Maura! I have a special surprise for you, honey. Your son, Kestrel, is here to see you. You remember Kestrel? Your son? And he’s brought a friend with him.”
Kes’s mom made a soft noise, but not words that I could understand.
“No, not Falcon. Your youngest son, Kestrel.”
Kes’s hand spasmed over mine, and he let go abruptly.
The nurse waved us forward.
I paused and passed the flowers to Kes.
“I think you should give them to her.”
He hesitated, and I could see the sense of loss, the ache in his eyes.
Reluctantly, he took the flowers.
“Hi, Mom. I brought you flowers. Yellow ones. Do you want to smell them?”
He held the flowers towards her, but I couldn’t see any reaction.
After a moment, the nurse took them from him gently.
“I’ll put them in water for you. Why don’t you sit down and visit with your mom?” Then she looked at me. “It takes her a while to remember.”
I nodded numbly as she walked away.
Kes was holding his mom’s hand and talking to her softly.
“I know I didn’t get to visit at the end of the summer like I usually do, but I’ve been away. Yeah, I know. I’m always away, traveling—with the carnival. Like you used to. Do you remember? With Dono, um, your dad. And with me and Con?”
At Con’s name, Kes’s mom murmured softly.
“Yeah, you remember Con, don’t you,” Kes said sadly. “He’s doing really good. He’s a pilot in the Air Force. He’s living in Germany, but he says he’s going to try and come visit you real soon. That’ll be great.” He paused, but there was no further reaction. “I’ve got a girl now, Mom,” he said quietly. “Her name’s Aimee. She’s really amazing. You’d like her. Do you want to meet her? Do you want to meet Aimee?”
Still nothing, but I stepped forward anyway. My breath caught in my throat when I saw her face. She had the same sharp cheekbones as Kes, the same full lips, but they were dragged down on one side. Her eyes were the same steely-gray with a dark blue ring at the iris. But where Kes’s eyes danced with fire and light, hers were clouded and empty.
Her entire right side was folded and shrunken, as if someone had left a plastic doll near the fire for too long and she’d melted. Her left side seemed unaffected.
“Hi Maura. I’m Aimee.”
Her left hand suddenly darted out and she grabbed hold of my ponytail.
“Ow!” I yelped, as she tugged hard.
“No, Mom,” Kes said patiently, trying to unhook her hand from my hair. “You’re hurting her.”
He didn’t raise his voice, and she eventually let go. Her mouth twisted and twitched as jumbled words toppled out.
Kes listened carefully as he held her hand, and then he smiled at me.
“She says you have pretty hair.”
I felt tears form in my eyes.
“Thank you, Maura,” I said. “You have pretty hair, too. It’s all curly, just like Kes’s.”
Then I had an idea.
“Would you like me to brush it for you? I always liked it when my mom brushed my hair when I was a little girl?”
She didn’t answer, but Kes nodded at me. So I picked up the hairbrush from her bedside table, and eased it through her hair in slow, gentle strokes.
She made a small sound.
“She likes it,” Kes said. “She’s smiling.”
We stayed for another half-an-hour. Kes told her about his shows and about Ollo. Then he explained that I’d come from New Hampshire and that I was going to live with him, and we’d go on the road together.
I could see so much love in his eyes, hear it in his voice, and it damn near broke my heart.
“We’ve gotta go now, Mom,” Kes said eventually. “But we’ll be back, I promise.” Then he leaned down closer. “Love you, Mom,” he whispered.
He kissed her cheek, and we turned to leave the room.
As we walked away, she murmured, “Kess . . . Kess . . .”
“Yeah, Mom,” he said, his voice choked. “I’m Kestrel.”
When we reached the car, I could tell that Kes was fighting tears, but refusing to give in.
I held his hand tightly as he stared out the window, forcing his emotions back into the box where he kept them hidden. His jaw was locked and his lips were pressed together, his breaths coming in short, shallow pants.
I stroked his forearm soothingly, and gradually I felt his body relax.
“She’s pretty,” I said quietly. “You look a lot like her.”
He gave me a forced smile.
“Are you saying I’m pretty?”
“Sure am.”
He gave a gruff laugh, letting a little more of the tension ease from him.
I leaned across and stroked his cheek, kissing him softly on the lips.
“You were wonderful with her.”
Kes pulled a face and looked away.
“You were. You were wonderful. You are wonderful.”
/>
Kes leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“It feels like my whole life I’ve looked after her. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? I never got to know what it was like to have parents—real ones, ya know? I had Dono, but . . .”
He didn’t have to say anything else. Dono had loved him, but it had been a rough and ready kind of love; the kind of love that made sure you had clothes to wear and food to eat, but not the kind that hugged you when you were hurting.
“Does he . . . your father . . . does he ever visit her?”
Kes gave a hollow laugh.
“Fuck, no! He paid because he had to.”
He sighed.
“I hate him, but I hate her sometimes, too. But then I feel like shit because I wouldn’t want to live if I was like her—not to be able to run or walk or even go outside when you want to. She’s lived in that chair for 20 years. I’d rather be dead.”
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“At least this time she knew who I was.”
His voice was bitter, and I longed to make it better.
“Kes, you know it’s not personal. Strokes can do massive damage to the brain, and it’s different for each person. The important thing is that she did recognize you. She was happy you were there.”
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”
He was closing down again, ashamed of still loving her after everything she’d done, after taking away so much of his childhood.
I settled back into my seat, sad that I couldn’t make him see anything good about our visit.
I was still awed that he’d taken me to meet her. I couldn’t deny that Kes had made good on every promise to share his secrets, to let me in. Secrecy had been ingrained in him from childhood—and here I was, crashing through all his barricaded walls. But it had to be the right thing for us, for our relationship.
“Aren’t we going back to the airfield now?” I asked when I noticed that Kes was still driving south.
“Something else I want to show you,” he said.
I withheld a frustrated sigh. I knew I had to cut him some slack after seeing his mom. And if it had been the other way around, I wouldn’t feel like talking much either.
The main road dipped inland, skirting a wide bay with a long finger of land acting as a natural barrier to the ocean. The water was a paler blue than the Pacific, with white sandy beaches stretching along the edges.
Kes took the ocean-side road which was narrow and less maintained. We bumped down a dusty road in between two fields, and then he pulled up in front of a rundown log cabin.
“Oh!” I said, pleased and surprised. “This is where you spent your winter breaks, isn’t it?”
I opened the door and climbed out of the car before he could answer.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said, breathing in the clean air, listening to the sound of the waves breaking on the shore. “So peaceful. Is that the field where you kept Jacob Jones and the other horses?”
Kes nodded. “There was a shack next door that we used as a stable if the weather was bad, but that’s gone now.”
I walked over and held his hand.
“When I was a little girl, I tried to imagine what your log cabin was like. I thought it would be in the middle of a forest, like a frontiersman.” I smiled. “But this is much prettier.”
“Do you really like it?” Kes asked, his voice sharp with intensity.
I looked at him in surprise. “Yes, I love it.”
“Because I want to buy it,” he said quietly. “For you.”
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in.
“What?”
“I talked to a realtor, and the owner is willing to sell the land—about 200 acres. It would be ours.”
“Ours?”
“I’d build you a house, Aimee. Whatever you want. Anything.”
I gasped. “You want to build me a house? But . . .”
“We’d have a home,” he said uncertainly. “Somewhere to come back to when we’ve finished for the winter.”
“But, Kes, I don’t understand. I thought this was exactly what you didn’t want? To be tied to one place, static . . .”
He cleared his throat and looked down.
“I thought you needed somewhere to put your books.”
“Oh, Kes!”
I threw myself at him, and he staggered back, catching me around my waist.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, laughing gently.
“Holy cow, it’s a yes! Oh my God! I can’t believe this!”
He wrapped his arms tighter around my waist and grinned at me.
“You really want this?”
“Yes! Yes, oh, yes! Omigod omigod omigod! I can’t believe it!”
He laughed, smiling widely as happiness spilled out of me. I hadn’t dared to tell him how scared I’d been at the thought of not having somewhere to call home. I’d been imagining myself as old and gray and still living in an RV, worn out by the thought of moving on to a new town. I had no idea what carnie people did when they reached retirement age—did they just go on forever until the ride was over?
But now Kes was offering me a home. It didn’t matter that we’d only see it for two or three months of the year, it just mattered that it would always be there, waiting for us.
“Can we go inside?” I asked excitedly. “Can I see it?”
Kes laughed. “Sure! I got him to send me a key just in case, but it’s really falling apart. I thought we’d knock it down and get something built that you like.”
“But I love this!” I said, grinning like a lunatic.
Kes rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because a leaking roof and fifty-year old wiring are just what you want.”
“Hush, I’m having a moment! Besides, it’s a piece of history—you spent your childhood here. That makes it special to me.”
He smiled and pulled my hands up to his mouth, placing sweet kisses onto the backs of each.
“Let’s look inside,” I said eagerly.
Kes pulled out a doorkey then handed it to me.
The key stuck in the lock and Kes had to wrestle with it to make it turn. Finally, the door creaked open and we were able to look inside.
It smelled musty, but it wasn’t as bad as Kes had made out. In fact, I could see that with only a small amount of work, it would be habitable. And the views—they were sensational, overlooking the ocean on one side and the bay on the other. Downstairs was one large room with an old stove, a rusty looking faucet and sink, and a couple of kitchen cabinets along one wall. On the opposite side was a stone built fireplace, the chimneybreast blackened from use.
“What’s upstairs?”
“Two bedrooms,” Kes answered without looking.
“And the bathroom?” I suggested.
Kes grinned at me. “Nope, the outhouse.”
My face fell. “No shower?”
“Kind of.”
“Oh well,” I said, trying to smile. “I’m sure we can fix that.”
Kes shrugged. “Or knock it down and build something with indoor plumbing.”
“Suddenly that’s sounding very attractive,” I agreed.
“But you like it?” Kes asked again. “You’d be happy here?”
“Kes,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him softly. “I’ll be happy wherever you are. But yes, I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”
He kissed me back, his lips feathering across mine, and then he rested his forehead against me.
“I know what you’ve given up to be with me, Aimee. I want to make it up to you.”
“Kes, I’m where I want to be.”
His eyes were still closed, but he smiled.
“Let’s go into town and make it official,” he said.
My eyes widened slightly, and Kes looked momentarily panicked.
“To agree to the terms and price, and put money in escrow,” he clarified.
“Oh thank goodness,” I half laughed. ??
?Because for a moment there . . .”
My cheeks reddened and I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Kes looked uncomfortable and my heart sank a little. I’d hoped that one day Kes might ask me to marry him, but today wasn’t that day. Maybe never. We hadn’t discussed it, and I had no idea what he thought about marriage. Neither of us had much in the way of positive examples of it in our lives.
I pushed the thought aside. We were living together and Kes was going to build me a house: I was greedy for wanting more. But still . . .
As we drove back up the road and into the town of Arcata, we passed a large, red-brick building. The sign read, Humboldt State University. I had no idea there was a higher education establishment way out here. I pulled up the information on my phone.
“Kes, they have a Masters program in Education!”
“Is that good?” he asked.
“Very, very good!” I grinned at him. “It’s a sign! It’s meant to be.”
He laughed. “Are you turning into Madame Cindy now?”
“Don’t you believe in Fate?”
“Nope.”
“Really?” I said, surprised. “You don’t think it was Fate that I ran into you again in Minneapolis after eight years apart? Because I didn’t want to be there.”
Kes frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Jennifer had to blackmail me into going because she’d promised Dylan.”
“Why didn’t you want to go?” Kes asked, puzzled. “You always loved fairs?”
“After you disappeared, I never went near a fair, circus, carnival or amusement park again. They reminded me of you. But you weren’t there.”
Kes nodded, his expression serious. “Maybe I should believe in Fate.”
“Maybe you should.”
We were silent for a moment.
“Didn’t Madame Cindy buy a place out here somewhere?”
Kes nodded. “Yeah, she’s a couple of miles south of here in Fortuna.”
I choked on a laugh and Kes grinned at me.
“Seriously! A fortune teller who lives in Fortuna?!”
“Yeah, what are the chances?”
“It must be Fate,” I laughed.
Kes pulled into a parking spot outside a white, Spanish-style building with the words CL Realty on a large sign out front.