The Traveling Woman
Mirelle nudged me and whispered in my ear.
“Jeez, what’s wrong with him? He looks like he’s jonesing for a drink. Does he have an alcohol problem?”
I gave a hollow laugh. “You don’t know how funny that is. No, it’s not that—I think he’s had enough of sitting still.”
Mirelle nodded easily. “Yeah, he looks more like the kind of guy who’d rather go wrestle a grizzly for fun than take it easy.” Then she winked at me. “I bet he’s an animal in the sack!”
“Do you ever think about anything else?” I teased.
“Meh, sometimes.”
I was pleased that Kes and Mirelle were getting along, even if it was in a who-can-irritate-the-other-most sort of way. I did what any good friend/girlfriend would do—and stayed out of their bonding.
“You done with the drama?” Kes grinned at Mirelle, “because if it’s the intermission, I really need to take a piss.”
While Kes wandered off, Mirelle gave me a hug.
“I like him, chica. He can take my shit! Plus, he’s hot.”
I hugged her back. “Things are really good with us.”
Her smile softened. “I see that. And he hasn’t decked Gregg. Yet. There’s still hope—although he might have to get in line.”
I shook my head, faintly horrified by the thought—it was too close to a reality.
“Hmm, well, I’m hoping it won’t come to that. As long as Gregg stays away from him, it should be okay.”
“Is Kes really going to come in and talk to the kids?” Mirelle asked.
“I think so, but I’m not sure how he’d feel about giving a speech—he’s much more of a physical person.”
Mirelle cut me a look.
“I just mean that he doesn’t like talking about himself. He can hold a crowd—my God, you should see him do that—he’s a performer.”
“And teaching isn’t like performing? Hell, we do it all the time.”
“True.”
Mirelle smiled. “I don’t get the impression he’d have agreed to do it if he didn’t want to.”
I thought Mirelle was probably right, but a little niggle at the back of my mind said that Kes would do it for me, even if he didn’t really want to.
Then Mirelle nudged me and pointed in the direction of a pool game that had started between some of the other teachers. I looked across to see Kes had joined in and was pocketing balls at a rapid rate.
“He really doesn’t like sitting still, does he?”
I was still watching him, admiring his fluidity and grace. “No,” I agreed. “He’s always moving.” Moving on.
Mirelle looked at me sympathetically and patted my arm.
The pool game lasted twenty minutes and then Kes returned and plopped down in the chair next to me.
“Have fun?” I asked, letting my eyes rake up his body, enjoying the view.
He grinned down at me. “Always.”
At that moment, Gregg walked past. “I didn’t know they played pool in the circus.”
What a pompous ass!
Kes just rolled his eyes.
“Don’t let him get to you,” I said quietly.
“Guy’s such a dick,” Kes said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you dated him for four years.”
“Nor can I.”
I gave Kes a quick kiss, that became a much longer kiss, and when I opened my eyes again, I saw a pair of suede loafers standing next to me.
“Any tips about life in the circus?” Gregg asked, his lips curling with amusement. “I’m sure there must be so much one can learn.”
“Sure,” Kes said evenly. “Shave before you put your makeup on, and don’t fall in the horseshit. But you probably already knew that.”
Gregg had no clue how to reply, so he walked away. He must be really stupid to think he could keep pushing Kes like that.
But a few minutes later when we went to leave, Gregg proved just how reckless he really was.
Even though it wasn’t a long drive home, I had to use the ladies room. And, of course, the line went on forever.
Kes was supposed to be waiting for me outside the restaurant, but I heard him before I saw him.
“You got one free pass because Aimee asked me to, but that’s all used up now. You should know something about me, city boy, I’m not a nice guy and I don’t play by your rules. So I’m telling you, next time you see me, turn around and walk the other way. And if you ever think about hitting on my girl again, my advice is, don’t. Now why don’t you fuck off. That’s your final warning.”
As I rounded the corner, I heard Gregg’s sharp voice and saw his face pinched with anger.
“Are you threatening me?”
Kes replied, his voice so cold, it sent a chill through me.
“Yes.”
“You can’t talk to me like that!” Gregg blustered.
By the time I ran up, Kes had his hand tightening around Gregg’s throat, almost lifting him off the ground, so that Gregg’s eyes bulged and his lips were starting to turn blue.
“Kes!” I shrieked. “Put him down! You’re hurting him!”
“He needs to be taught a lesson,” he hissed.
“Please, Kes, don’t!”
I wrapped my hands around his arm, but I may as well have tried to move a concrete post. Kes only let go because he wanted to.
Gregg stumbled away, gasping for breath. Kes turned on me, his eyes black with anger.
“After everything he did, you’re defending the dickhead?”
“I’m not!” I insisted, my heart hammering painfully. “But you could really hurt him!”
“He’ll get over it.”
I stared at the stranger in front of me, violence simmering under the surface of his angelic face.
“I know he’s been pushing you all day, but he could have you arrested,” I said urgently, tugging him away from Gregg who was still gasping for breath.
Kes’s gaze slowly softened as he looked at me.
“Let’s go home,” I said.
Neither of us mentioned Gregg’s name after that. We both wanted to forget about it as soon as possible, but I knew how Gregg worked—there was no way he’d be letting this go.
During the night, Kes wrapped his body around mine, seeming to apologize for the scene the day before. On Sunday, we stayed in most of the day, eating, watching movies, making love. It was pretty damn near perfect—and the one area where we really communicated.
We also talked about Kes’s presentation for the school, but other than that, he had nothing planned in the week ahead. And that was a problem for him. He was used to being on the go 24/7. During his normal winter break, he’d always had maintenance to do on the bikes, or new stunts to work on. When he was a child, he had the horses to take care of, as well as working on his act. But right now, I was his only project, and he seemed uncertain what he was supposed to be doing. Which made two of us.
I left for school on Monday feeling uneasy.
That feeling persisted all day, so I was relieved when school was finally over. The relief lasted less than five minutes—Kes called to tell me that he was at the police station. In custody.
The police officer I spoke to said that Kes was currently “cooling his heels.”
Yes, Gregg had made a complaint.
Yes, the police had gone to ‘talk’ to Kes.
It looked like Kes had objected to that talk rather forcefully. Everything was such a mess.
Upset and on my last nerve, I drove to Gregg’s house.
He was just getting out of his car when he saw me. I called his name and he turned to look at me, his expression immediately guilty. I could see vivid purple and black bruises around his neck where Kes had held him.
“Gregg, can I talk to you?”
“That’s not possible,” Gregg muttered.
“Five minutes.”
He shook his head and tried to push past me.
“Can we at least sit down and talk like reasonable people?” I begged.
“I don
’t think so, Aimee,” he said, refusing to meet my eyes.
Anger bloomed inside me. No one, no one was taking Kes away from me again. I marched right up behind him.
“Oh you will,” I said, my voice becoming louder. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
He glanced around him uneasily.
“Five minutes,” he agreed.
We walked up to his apartment as I tried to keep my fury in check. He let me inside reluctantly, then stood with his arms crossed, looking defensive.
“You’ll stop this right now,” I insisted. “You’ll withdraw your complaint.”
“I think not!” he huffed, trying to sound commanding.
“Oh you most certainly will! This is nothing more than petty vindictiveness.”
“Your boyfriend assaulted me and threatened me!” he barked. “You can see the marks on my neck for yourself, Aimee.”
“After you pushed him and needled him and tried to make him look inferior at every opportunity,” I growled. “But he’s not inferior to you; he’s ten times the man you’ll ever be. This is simply a way of getting back at me, of hurting me, because I don’t want anything to do with you. Admit it!”
“I’m worried about your safety,” he said, a scowl marring his face. “If he’s violent toward another man, he could do so much worse to you.”
I laughed coldly.
“It’s one thing for you to push me around, isn’t it, Gregg? You just met someone who decided to push back.”
“That’s not true!” Gregg shouted, looking almost hurt. Then his voice lowered. “I care about you, Aimee. You shouldn’t be with an uneducated Neanderthal like that.”
“He is neither of those things, you arrogant hypocrite!”
He bristled. “How am I a hypocrite?”
“All the times you treated me badly, you bullied me, told me I had a fat ass, told me I wasn’t as smart as you. You cheated and you treated me like a doormat. Well, I let you. But Kes has never ever treated me like that.”
“I respect you . . .” he began.
“That’s a lie and you know it! But Kes does respect me, something you have never been able to do. For God’s sake, Gregg, you had an affair with Lulu when we were together. How is that showing me respect?”
He was silent for a moment.
“He’s still not good enough for you,” Gregg said sullenly.
I tried to speak gently.
“That’s not your decision, Gregg. It never was.”
“I’m only trying to protect you,” he continued.
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to save face.”
Gregg grimaced, but he still wasn’t backing down.
The gloves were coming off. Nice, sensible Aimee was taking a back seat.
“You know this won’t turn out well for you,” I said, my voice cool. “I told you that I wasn’t interested in getting back with you several times. Each time you refused to take no for an answer. How do you think that’s going to sound when word gets out?”
“That’s blackmail!” he snorted.
“It’s the truth! And what about when I say why we broke up, because you were having an affair?”
“You can’t prove that!”
“You really want to drag Lulu into this? You want me to say that the day you dumped me she was sitting outside in your car? You know how that will look, Gregg. This is a small community.”
“I can’t believe you’re being such a bitch!”
I looked at him sadly. “Is that what we’ve come to after four years together, Gregg?”
He looked down, and I could tell that I’d shamed him. I softened my voice again.
“Drop the charges, because I know you’re going to regret this if you don’t.”
He looked away, unable to meet my eyes, and I knew that I’d won.
“I do care about you, Aimee,” he said quietly.
When he finally looked at me, his eyes were sad and defeated. I felt the smallest twinge of pity for him.
“I cared about you for four years, Gregg. But I’m with Kes now. I love him, that’s not going to change.”
“You said you loved me,” he murmured, his voice despondent.
I nodded slowly. “Not the way I love him.”
“I’ve really lost you, haven’t I?”
I nodded again.
Gregg’s shoulders sagged and he looked beaten.
“You’ll drop the charges?” I persisted.
He nodded quickly, and I turned to leave.
“Aimee,” he called after me.
I looked over my shoulder at him.
“At school . . . ?” he began.
“I’ll never mention this,” I said honestly. “I can be a professional with you if you can be a professional with me.”
He looked grateful. “Thank you.”
“Bye, Gregg. See you in school.”
But he called after me again.
“I . . . I do wish you well, Aimee.”
I blinked at him in surprise, then smiled.
Half an hour later, I drove Kes home. He was quiet: too quiet.
I kept throwing worried glances at him, but he just stared out of the window.
When I pulled into the parking lot, he was out of the car immediately.
“Can we . . . I don’t want to go inside yet,” he said stiffly.
“We could go for a walk. Find somewhere to grab a coffee?” I suggested.
I held his hand as we headed down the sidewalk, but even though he was touching me, he seemed a million miles away.
“Kes,” I said softly, “please talk to me.”
His eyes closed briefly, but he remained silent.
“Gregg has dropped all the charges,” I reassured him again. “He won’t try anything else; I made sure of it.”
That raised a small smile.
“Yeah? My girl is badass.”
But the smile faded quickly.
I sighed. “We both have really terrible taste in ex’s, but we’re moving on now.”
Kes didn’t reply.
I led us toward the river and found an outdoor coffee cart that also sold cakes and cookies. I loaded Kes’s coffee with sugar, ordered myself a cappuccino with extra foam, and bought us a muffin each—triple chocolate.
Then I found a bench where we could sit and watch the water.
Kes sipped at his coffee, his eyes distant, secrets and shadows hidden inside.
“They locked me up,” he said quietly.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“I froze. I fucking froze. I couldn’t think straight.”
I held my breath, watching him as he began to talk.
“I hate being locked up. I really fucking hate it. When that door slammed shut, I thought I was going to fucking lose it. I couldn’t handle it. I was totally freaking. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to fucking explode. I thought I’d die. Just like Dono.”
“Oh Kes, no,” I said, winding my fingers through his and squeezing hard.
“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve hated enclosed spaces,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “My mom . . .” He took a deep breath. “She used to have these insane rages when she was drunk. She’d smash up everything, and it didn’t matter if you were in her way—she’d just kick you until you weren’t in her way anymore. Con used to try and hide me. I guess he learned the signs, when she was about to go off. One time, he hid me in the large drawer under her bed in the RV. I was in there for hours, too scared to come out. She’d collapsed on the bed, and I could hear her snoring. I was so afraid. But because she was there, Con couldn’t come and let me out. I was in there for fucking hours. Hours and hours, and I felt like I was suffocating and . . .”
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him closer, wanting to push those horrible memories away.
He took another deep breath and stared up at the sky.
“She wasn’t always like that. She could be fun. When she wasn’t drunk, she used to sing, I
remember that.” He hesitated and his head sank lower on his chest. “I was never afraid of anything when I was really young: not riding fast or heights or the tightrope—nothing. That day, I learned to be afraid. For years, I thought that was the only thing that I was afraid of.” Then he turned to look at me. “Until I realized that I was afraid of losing you.”
“You won’t,” I breathed out. “You won’t lose me, I promise!”
Kes shook his head slowly.
“You can’t promise that. I knew it when I got arrested today. They could have left me in that cell to rot. Doesn’t matter if it was one day or one year—I’d have gone fucking crazy. It would have broken me, Aimee, because I’d lose you.”
This was Kes, stripped and raw, every emotion exposed. He laid himself out in front of me, asking for nothing, offering everything.
“Kes,” I whispered, my voice shaking, “you are the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known. You’re smart and passionate and you protect me and look after me. You won’t lose me because I won’t let you.”
His head sank to his chest and my hopes sank with him.
His element was the air around him. I had roots and he had wings—could they ever work together?
“I love you,” he said.
I froze, shocked beyond anything by those quiet words. I thought he loved me, I felt like he loved me, but he’d never said those three words to me before, not in his whole life. Until now.
“I love you, too,” I said.
On the surface, nothing had changed. I went to school the next day, and Kes went to the gym, then surprised me by preparing a delicious meal for us.
But everything had changed. There was a happiness inside me that felt too big for my body, as if it would burst through my skin. I didn’t know joy could feel so fierce.
By contrast, Kes was calmer. His happiness gave him peace, and I relished that. Together we were stronger, and I felt like we could take on the world.
At school, Gregg avoided me as much as possible. When he couldn’t, we were polite, overly formal, but completely professional. I thought he might revert to acts of petty spitefulness, but he didn’t. Gradually, I began to relax in his presence. We’d never be friends, but we didn’t need to be enemies.
But Kes was bored. He didn’t want to admit it, but I knew.
I had my routine: I’d go to school, meet Kes after, go for a coffee or an early dinner, then go home and do marking or prepare for the next day.