Page 21 of The Traveling Woman


  I looked at him in surprise.

  “No, why do you ask that?”

  “Because Grandma’s mad at you.”

  I glanced at Mom who seemed flustered, and I gave Dylan a wry smile.

  “Oh, well, I’m sure she’s really happy to see me.”

  My answer confused Dylan, but he gave up trying to understand the weirdness of adults and begged me to play with him on his X-box. Jen smiled at me sympathetically, although whether that was because of Dylan’s computer games or Mom’s ugly words, I couldn’t tell. Whatever the reason, my sister was on my side—that was good enough.

  “Hey, baby!”

  Kes’s voice was slightly crackly, emphasizing the empty miles between us. I could hear him moving around the cabin with Bo’s chattering in the background.

  “What’s got him so excited?” I asked.

  Kes laughed. “Turns out he likes fresh pineapple.”

  “Wow, you guys bought a pineapple? You know that’s fruit, right? I’m impressed.”

  Kes’s voice was amused. “Some chick at the market gave it to Tucker. He’s just pissed that Bo was in the RV again.”

  “Aw, Bo adores Tucker,” I giggled. “Anyway, tell me how the work’s going?”

  I was almost at the end of my 1-o-n-g week with Mom and was dying to be back home again. Just two more nights.

  “Yeah, pretty good. We’ve fitted out the bathroom and Tucker’s done the electrical work. The phone people finished so we’ve got Wifi. Tucker’s been downloading porn.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, unimpressed. “And have you been watching it with him?”

  Silence.

  “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

  Kes laughed. “The place is looking pretty good. Oh and that architect guy—he’s going to come over the day after you get back. He said he wanted to see the site.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  Kes sighed. “Fuck, Aimee. Can’t you come back sooner?”

  “I wish I could, but my ticket isn’t transferable.”

  “Fuck that! I’ll buy you a new ticket.”

  “Well, I still can’t,” I said. “I promised I’d take Dylan to the skate park tomorrow, which is totally your fault, by the way. He wants to learn to ride a skateboard so he can do stunts. Jen is freaking out. He won’t just have arm pads, knee pads and a helmet—she’ll bubblewrap the little guy.”

  Kes laughed. “He’s a cool kid. I’d like to see him again.”

  “Great! Because I invited them to stay during Spring break. Jen says they can come for a couple of days—apparently Dylan’s father also has family out in Cali.”

  “Sounds good. Can we have phone sex now?”

  I burst out laughing. He’d asked me that every night since I’d been away. You might even say he’d begged.

  “Jeez, Aimee. I’m hard as a fucking stone just talking to you. Come on, baby. What are you wearing?”

  “I’m wearing flannel pajamas with bunnies all over them. They’re an early Christmas present from Jen and Dylan.”

  “Sounds sexy,” Kes said.

  “You’re kidding me! They’re the unsexiest things I’ve ever seen! Saggy in the ass and big enough for two people on top. I haven’t washed my hair today and it’s tied back with a rubber band, and basically I’m dressed like a granny.”

  “Fuck, you’re turning me on,” he said, and I could tell from his voice that he wasn’t joking.

  “What are you wearing?” I asked.

  I heard the soft rustle of material in the background.

  “Nothing.”

  My throat went dry. “Really? Nothing?”

  “Nope. Wanna know where my hands are?”

  “Well, one of them is holding the phone, I’m guessing.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So the other one is . . . ?”

  “Yeah.”

  I could hear the sound of his breathing accelerate and I knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Where are you?”

  “In our bed. It’s too big without you. Where are you?”

  Sitting on the bed in the guestroom.”

  “Are you wet?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Good. Touch yourself.”

  I pushed my hand into my panties. “I am. I’m wet. I’m thinking about you. Thinking about your hot, hard dick stroking me; thinking about your fingers, your tongue, your cock inside me so deep that your balls are slapping against my ass.”

  “Goddamn,” he muttered, and his breathing increased again.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “We’re outside, on a blanket, and I’m staring up at your face. The stars are really bright, and I can see them behind you. You’re riding the hell out of me and your tits are bouncing like . . . oh fuck!”

  And then he dropped the phone.

  It was my last day in Minnesota and I was longing to leave. Even though I hadn’t lived in California for more than a few weeks, the cabin felt like home, because of Kes. I was looking forward to our first Christmas together: presents under the tree, eggnog, cooking together, having the guys over—everything.

  Mom hadn’t been too awful after that first evening. Sure, there were some sharp remarks about the importance of stability and getting a good education. It wasn’t even that I disagreed with her, but I wished she’d respect my choices and at least try to understand my point of view. I was getting better at letting it wash over me—mostly for Jennifer’s sake. She’d hoped for a better outcome by having me and Mom visit at the same time.

  But as I was learning, you can’t have it all. Mom was sweet with Dylan: that was enough.

  I did try once more though, when Jen had taken Dylan to a children’s party in the neighborhood.

  “Mom, I was thinking, maybe you’d like to fly out to California when Jen goes with Dylan and Brian during Spring Break. Just for a couple of days? You could see the cabin . . . meet Kes . . .”

  She didn’t even look up from her book.

  “I don’t think so, Aimee.”

  I bit back an angry retort and tried to keep calm.

  “He’d really like to see you,” I lied.

  That made her look up. “I have no interest in meeting that boy ever again.”

  “Even though he’s someone very important to me?”

  She set her book down.

  “Aimee, you’re very young and . . .”

  “I’m 25, Mom.”

  “As I said before you interrupted me: you’re very young and you don’t think things through. Living in a trailer or some rundown cabin is not what I wanted for you. You have a good degree. I want to see you use it and make something of yourself, not end up pregnant and barefoot in a trailer park.”

  “It’s not like that,” I said tightly.

  “It’s exactly like that. That boy can’t offer you a secure future, can he?”

  “If you’re going to talk about Kes, about the man I love, I would like you to use his name.”

  “And what sort of a name is ‘Kes’ anyway?”

  Aaagh! She was really pressing my buttons now!

  “It’s short for Kestrel, Mom,” I snapped. “I’ve told you that.”

  “Exactly,” she sneered.

  Deep breath.

  “I’m sorry you feel like that, Mom,” I said from between gritted teeth. “Because he’s going to be in my life for a long, long time.” Forever.

  She shook her head. “You’re so young.”

  Then it was my turn to shake my head. What do you do with a conversation like that? She was worried about me; I think she loved me—but she always judged me and would never listen to me.

  I gave up. At least I knew that I’d tried.

  I left the room and went to call Kes. I needed to hear his voice.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, baby!”

  I could hear a bike engine in the background.

  “Where are you?”

  “At the cabin. What’s
up? You sound kind of pissed.”

  “Oh, just been talking to Mom.”

  His voice was sympathetic. “Didn’t go so well, huh?”

  “You could say that,” I sighed. “Are you going somewhere? I can hear an engine.”

  “Just going to take a ride with Tucker before we fly down to LA later. Zach’s packing his shit right now.”

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe I forgot about that! You’re flying? I thought you were driving down?”

  “Nah, it’s just that Press conference shit that Michaels set up, so he’s paying for us to fly there. It’s an evening gig and we won’t get back till late, so I might not be able to call you. But I’ll be there to pick you up at the airport tomorrow, okay?”

  “I can’t wait. I miss you.”

  “Miss you, too, babe.”

  “I hope it all goes well tonight. Best behavior, Kes: no biting, spitting, kicking, gouging, punching below the belt, and definitely no flirting.”

  He laughed happily. “No fun at all then?”

  “As little as possible.”

  “Saving it all for you, baby.”

  “Good!” I smiled to myself. “I’m so happy that I’m coming home tomorrow.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course. I love you, Kes.”

  “Love you more.”

  I heard Tucker shouting in the background, something about Kes being pussy whipped. There was a thud and a yell, and the call was dropped.

  I was still grinning to myself when I walked downstairs.

  Mom looked up and smiled. “What are you so happy about?”

  “I just spoke to Kes.”

  Her smile faltered. “Oh, well . . . that’s nice.”

  I studied her closely—she seemed sincere. Had we made progress? I didn’t dare to hope.

  But then she said, “I do worry about you,” and she sighed heavily.

  “I’m in love with him, Mom.”

  She didn’t reply, just shook her head and went back to her book.

  Snow fell over night and Dylan was a bundle of hyperactivity, running outside as soon as he was allowed, making snow angels and begging me to help him build a snowman. My flight wasn’t until the afternoon, so I had a couple of hours. It brought back good memories, especially when Jen and Mom came out to help us.

  I thought I would have heard from Kes by now, but I knew they wouldn’t have gotten home until the early hours of the morning, so they were probably sleeping in.

  After lunch, I said goodbye to Dylan, promising that I’d see him soon. Mom gave me a quick hug and simply told me to look after myself. She didn’t have any words for Kes. I hadn’t expected anything, but still, I’d hoped.

  Mom was taking Dylan to see Santa at the mall, so Jen drove me to the airport.

  “Thanks, sis,” I said as she dropped me off at departures. “It’s been fun.”

  “Really?”

  “Mostly,” I laughed. “I don’t think Mom will ever be Kes’s biggest fan, and I don’t think she’ll be forgiving my ‘horrible mistakes’ anytime soon, but . . . I’m kind of okay with everything.”

  She gave me a hug.

  “Call me when you get in. Love ya!”

  “Love you, too, Jen.”

  The flight was tedious, but at least I was heading in the right direction this time.

  We had so much to look forward to: our first Christmas and New Year’s together, planning a new house, Kes’s World Record attempt, the stunt movie, and thinking about going on the road again in the Spring. I had jobs to apply for, and a Masters course to look into. I had friends, my carnie family and my new life.

  And I had Kes. My friend, my love, my everything.

  I remember sitting back in my plane seat and thinking, Life doesn’t get much better than this.

  They say that April is the cruelest month.

  But not for me. And not for Kes.

  Those dying days of December are ones that I will never forget.

  Zach was waiting for me when I arrived at Sacramento airport. I could tell immediately by the look in his eyes that something wasn’t right.

  His face was drawn and unshaven, with dark circles under red eyes.

  “Zach? Are you alright? Where’s Kes? I thought he was supposed to be picking me up?”

  He gripped my shoulders tightly.

  “There’s been an accident.”

  “What?”

  “Aimee, I need you to hold it together and listen to me, okay?”

  I nodded numbly.

  “Kes had an accident on his motorcycle and . . .”

  “But he’s okay?” I interrupted desperately. “He’s okay, isn’t he.”

  I wasn’t asking a question: I wanted . . . no, I needed Zach to tell me that Kes was okay.

  “He’s alive,” he said.

  My eyes widened and I couldn’t breathe. Kes was hurt so badly that the best Zach could tell me that he was still alive? No. No. No no no no no no!

  I felt like I’d fallen off a cliff and the ground was rushing toward me.

  I heard Zach mutter, “Oh, shit!” before he caught me in his arms.

  I remember wondering if we were having an earthquake, but it was just my body shaking, my legs as weak as a newborn lamb.

  “You’re okay,” Zach chanted quietly. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

  But I wasn’t. I really wasn’t.

  I held onto his hands as troubled faces ringed us, shuffling their feet to show concern.

  “She’s fine,” Zach said to our audience. “She’s had some bad news, but she’s fine.”

  Somebody offered me water, and without even knowing who’d helped me, I drank it.

  “Where is he?” I whispered.

  “Let’s get you to the car.”

  “Zach, where is he!”

  “Hospital. The UC Davis Spine Center.”

  “Spine Center?”

  Zach swallowed and closed his eyes, hiding from my searching gaze.

  “He broke his back, Aimee. They’re not sure . . .”

  He couldn’t finish the sentence, but he’d said enough.

  “Take me to him.”

  Zach made sure I could stand, but the first shock was over. I needed to get to Kes and adrenalin was rushing through me. I felt like I could have run there, leapt tall buildings, crashed through every bastard who got in my way. I’d have fought the Devil himself if it would get me to Kes any sooner.

  I saw Kes’s sports car parked out front in a tow zone. A traffic cop was about to give us a ticket, but Zach strode over to him and whether it was what he said, or the look on my face, I don’t know. But he put away his ticket dispenser and waved us on.

  I thought about that a lot later, the random kindness of strangers.

  “Drive fast,” I said to Zach.

  He gave me a stiff nod and then put the car into first. We leapt forward and I was pinned back in my seat. The road rushed past in a blur of grays and yellows as the streetlights flickered across my dry eyes.

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice ragged, torn at the edges.

  Zach cleared his throat as his narrowed eyes focused on the road.

  “He . . . they . . . Kes and Tucker took the bikes out. They were just horsing around, riding like they were dirt bikes. I was . . . I was pissed, because those stunt bikes aren’t cheap. They’ve got a lot of adaptations, you know, like 12 bars and sub cages and . . .”

  He strangled the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening as he spoke.

  “They were racing. We’re not sure exactly what happened next, but we think Kes’s front wheel caught in a gopher hole. Tucker said he was thrown up so high . . . then he hit a tree. Hit it really hard. His back, ah, his back . . . when Tucker got to him, Kes was conscious. He was winded, and they didn’t think anything was wrong. They were laughing . . . Kes was laughing . . . but by the time I got there, Kes said he couldn’t feel his legs. That’s when we knew something was wrong.”

  He rubbed his knuckl
es over his jaw. I couldn’t feel anything either. How strange. Just like Kes. I couldn’t feel anything.

  “I called for an ambulance, but when EMS arrived they radioed it in as a back injury and a helicopter was dispatched to airlift him to the trauma center.”

  I frowned. “When did this happen?”

  Zach licked his lips. “Yesterday afternoon.” He swallowed nervously. “Kes didn’t want us to tell you. He didn’t want to spoil your visit with your family.”

  I swore softly under my breath.

  “And you listened to him?”

  “I’m sorry, Aimee. Shit, I know that was wrong, but . . .”

  We lapsed into silence.

  A cold rage began to fill my veins with ice. How dare this happen to Kes, to us. How dare Fate spit on us like this. In what universe was it fair that my wild Kestrel was . . . ?

  I couldn’t bring myself to whisper the word ‘crippled.’

  “What are the doctors saying?”

  Zach cringed, his own pain obvious.

  “He’s shattered one of the vertebra in his lower back. A piece of the bone is pushing against his spinal cord. Aimee, they’re saying it’s likely that Kes will never walk again.”

  Impossible.

  “No, they’re wrong,” I said quietly, but with complete conviction. “They don’t know Kes. They don’t know him like we do, like I do.”

  “Aimee . . .”

  “No, Zach! Don’t you dare give up on him! Don’t you dare!”

  “I’m not! I would never do that, but . . .”

  “No more buts. We’re going to think positive. Kes will be alright.”

  Words were my talisman. Kes had never believed in them, but I did. I knew that words had power. And I had to be strong. For him. It was my turn to be his rock.

  The cold seeped through my body, settling into my bones. I had no tears, because they’d turned to ice, locked like stones inside me.

  Kes wouldn’t see me cry.

  The sun had sunk behind the hills by the time we pulled into the hospital parking lot. It was quiet—visiting hours were over, not that it meant anything to me.

  In some ways, it marked the beginning of the end, and in some ways the end of the beginning. A mark in the sand; a warning, danger ahead, broken hearts beyond this line, do not cross. But I did. For Kes, I’d take that final step.