*****
As the train swept over the hills and valleys of the huge wooden roller coaster, I was too busy screaming to talk. It was a rough ride, the cars shaking wildly back and forth, but it was my favorite ride in the park. Near the end, the train whipped through a metal tunnel, and as always everyone shrieked as loudly as they could.
As we climbed out of the cars, Kegan tapped his ear. "I've gone deaf, Candy, nice job. Think you were loud enough?"
I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. He pretended to grab at it, and I tried to bite him.
"Think you're immature enough?"
I laughed. "Just about."
He grinned, then looked around at the rides nearby. "Hey, let's do this one next."
I looked at the ride he was pointing to and shook my head. "I hate those spinny ones."
"Why?"
"I'm afraid I'll get sick."
"Have you ever ridden one?"
I shook my head.
"Then how do you know you'll get sick?"
The triumph in his voice made me laugh. "I don't. It's a guess."
"Well, let's find out." He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the ride's line.
"I don't want to find out. You want me to be sick?"
"You won't be sick, silly girl. I'll protect you."
"You'll protect me from throwing up."
He smiled. "I won't allow it."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"I'm the customer, Candy, I'm always right. Didn't Lou teach you anything?"
As we waited in the line, I watched the ride spinning around. It had lots of little chairs attached to what looked like awfully thin chains, and as it lifted the chairs tilted and swung out into space. There was more screaming than there'd been in the tunnel of my roller coaster.
Kegan turned me to face him. "Stop staring at it, you'll just make yourself nervous. It'll be fine, really. You have to try new things."
"I've thrown up before. I don't need to try it again."
We didn't talk for a little while, and that suited me just fine. I didn't have anything to say, and it was enough just to be there, away from all my problems. I looked around, taking in the sun and the laughing voices, but my eyes always returned to Kegan.
I'd thought being here would be less intimate than dinner out, but I'd forgotten how the other guests seemed to fade away. All the noise and chatter were background. Kegan was front and center, only a few feet away.
"Did you call Ian?"
I shook my head. "I'm only allowed to call in an emergency."
"Doesn't telling him you don't have-- you're fine count?"
"He-- no, I'll just email him."
Kegan studied me. "He doesn't know, does he?"
I closed my eyes and sighed. "Not as such."
"I don't understand. Why wouldn't you--"
I opened my eyes. "Because I needed him to go, and he needed to go," I said. "He's doing amazing stuff out there, and if he knew about the test he wouldn't have gone." At least, I didn't think he would have. It hit me for the first time that I didn't know for sure what he would have done. Had I not told him because I didn't want to find out that he'd have gone anyhow?
"But..." Kegan paused. "I get it, I think. I'd have wanted to know, if I were him, but I get why you didn't. Didn't it make it harder on you, though?"
I nodded, remembering the bursts of anger and sadness I'd had in the weeks before Ian left, the little flare-ups we'd had because I couldn't control my emotions. "But it was easier on him."
"I don't think marriage is supposed to be easy, Candy."
I sighed again. "Ain't that the truth."
He smiled at me, and we returned to silence for a bit longer. As we approached the head of the line, he said, "Where do you want to sit?"
I took a look over my shoulder at the ride then turned back to him. "On that bench over there?"
He laughed. "Not an option. You'll love it."
"I won't. I won't, just to spite you."
"Well, we're going anyhow."
When we reached the front of the line, I looked up at the huge machine and shook my head. "No way. I am not going on that thing."
He leaned over and said into my ear, "It's your first time. I'll ask them to be gentle."
We laughed, but I felt a flash of heat at the memory of my other first time with Kegan. He had been gentle, and I'd actually enjoyed losing my virginity, unlike most of my friends.
The gate opened and I was swept onto the concrete surrounding the ride. That would feel lovely when I plummeted to my doom. Kegan caught my arm and pulled me to two of the outermost chairs. We climbed in and hung side-by-side as the attendant went around making sure the restraint bars were secure.
"I want to go home now," I said in my best whiny voice, making a pouty face to boot.
"Oops, sorry, no can do." Kegan grinned at me through the chains. "They've already locked us in."
The attendant checked our bars, I gripped the sides of my chair with both hands, and we were off. In no time, the ride was twirling and I was almost lying on my side. The wind made my eyes tear up, and I was screaming so loudly I could barely hear Kegan laughing at me.
We spun and dipped and swirled and I screamed out my terror and sadness and frustration. When we began to slow, I was all screamed out, slumped in my chair laughing helplessly.
The ride stopped and I slithered out of my chair when the restraints opened. My knees buckled as my feet touched the ground, and Kegan wrapped his arm around my waist to hold me up. My arm went around him, and he helped me to the bench I'd been eyeing earlier. I sank down, still laughing.
"See, I knew you'd love it. I have to ask, though, is the screaming really necessary?"
I turned to him and said, as solemnly as I could through the remnants of my laughter, "There's only one ride in the park I don't scream on."
"What are we waiting for?" He rubbed his ear.
I stood, found I wasn't too wobbly, and we set off. I could see the top of the ride I wanted, towering over the others, and I led us there, stopping only to ride a roller coaster or two along the way.
When we arrived, he looked up. "You don't scream on this?"
"Nope, there's no time. Plus it kind of takes your breath away," I said, heading for the line.
Kegan wasn't following me.
I turned back to see him standing in the middle of the path, heedless of the people flowing around him. He looked like how I'd felt at the swings ride.
"Get off the road," I called, laughing. He took a few steps toward me before stopping again.
"I don't like the ones with a steep drop like that."
"Have you tried it?"
"Yes."
Our eyes met. "You have not."
He winked at me. "You're right, and it's a streak I want to keep alive. Thirty-three years of not leaving my stomach at the top of some insane ride."
"Thirty-three years of being a wuss, you mean. And you're proud of it?"
"This from the girl who was afraid of the swings."
"Was afraid. Not any more. Let's go."
Moving a bit closer to me, he said, "Are you really cruel enough to put me through this?"
I raised my eyebrows and gave him my best evil grin.
"I was afraid you'd say that," he said with a sigh.
"I'll ask them to be gentle." As I said the last words, screaming filled the air. We turned to watch the ride in action. The round car full of people dropped, from what I'd heard was a seven-storey height, as if its supports had been cut. Just before it crashed into the ground, the brakes kicked in and lowered the car slowly the last few feet.
I turned back to Kegan, and couldn't suppress a smile at the look on his face.
"And people call this fun?"
"I call it fun. You'll love it."
And with that, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him along with me.
*****
The next few hours passed in a flurry of excitement and laughter. With
each ride, I felt a little more relaxed and happy, and a little more comfortable with Kegan. We had dinner, which he bought for me, and shared a fried funnel cake topped with icing sugar, and he made fun of me for getting the sugar all over myself. It felt almost like being there with Larissa.
Night began to fall around nine o'clock. We hadn't talked about how late we'd stay, but Kegan showed no signs of wanting to leave.
"The roller coasters are the best when it gets dark," he said as we waited in the line of yet another of the spinning monstrosities he loved and I was beginning to develop a taste for. "You come up the first big hill, and then the car goes over the top and it's all dark down the track. You don't know where you're going."
I smiled at his enthusiasm, then my smile faded as I held his gaze.
"What?"
I swallowed. "Thank you."
He took a step closer to me. "For what?"
I opened my hands in an "all this" gesture.
He shook his head. "Nothing to thank me for. I needed a break too." His arm slid around my shoulders, and he added, "I'm just glad you're all right."
Blinking hard, I dropped my head to his chest, and he tightened his arm around me. We stayed together until the line moved up again.
*****
As our last roller coaster cruised up its first hill, I stood, securely strapped into my restraints, and looked around. The sky was dark but the park was ablaze with lights. It was fascinating being so far above it all, and I wished the ride could stop and leave us up there, at least for a few minutes.
Kegan apparently didn't share my opinion. "I can't believe you got me on this one. I hate stand-up coasters. They make my stomach feel weird."
"You are weird, so too bad," I said, laughing. The train reached the top of the hill, but instead of going straight down the ride took a smooth curve, extending the anticipation of the descent. I brought my hands up and wrapped them around the restraints, knowing from past experience that I'd want to be holding on tight.
I gasped as the train took a sudden dip to one side. I knew it was there but it always startled me when it happened. A second gasp escaped me when Kegan put his hand over mine. I looked toward him, barely able to see him through the thickly padded bars of the restraints, and tried to pull my hand away. He maintained his grip.
"I hate this ride," he said, and from what I could see of his face he was telling the truth. It was also obvious it was hard for him to admit it. He'd said he didn't like it before I'd dragged him into the line, but I hadn't realized how serious he was.
My heart melted. I opened my fingers to him and felt him interlock his fingers with mine and squeeze my hand. As if that had been the signal, the train shot over the crest of the hill, carrying us down into darkness.
*****
When the park closed at ten, we walked in silence, swept along by the crowd, out to the parking lot and to my car, parked a little closer than his.
"Now, this is cute," he said, surveying it from every angle. He looked over at me. "It suits you."
I smiled. "I love it."
He leaned against my car, and I stood in front of him.
"Thank you," I said, feeling awkward but wanting him to know how I felt. "I had such a good time. I really appreciate it."
He pushed away from the car and took a step toward me. "I'm glad. You deserve it." He paused, eyes roaming my face, before adding, "Will you be okay when you get home?"
I nodded. "I think I'm done crying, at least for today."
"Good. I'll see you sometime tomorrow morning at the restaurant."
"Any particular time?"
He shook his head. "I'll be there, so whatever works for you. Take care of yourself, Candy."
He smiled at me and turned to walk away.
"Kegan?"
He turned back, and we stared at each other. I didn't know why I'd called him back. I hadn't meant to; it had just happened. For the space of a few of my pounding heartbeats, we stood silent. I didn't know what I wanted, but I didn't want him to leave.
Moving a little closer, he put his hand on my arm. He gazed into my eyes for a moment, then gave my arm a gentle squeeze and said in a low whisper, "Good night, Candy."
"Good night," I whispered back, and this time I let him go.
*****
I had a new one from Ian, and I read it three times, unable to believe his words and the fury behind them. If I'd suggested he castrate himself with a dull knife I wouldn't have expected as angry a reaction as he'd given me to the suggestion of counseling. What was his problem?
I was about to respond in kind when I noticed to my surprise I had a second email from him in my mailbox.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: I miss you
Sorry, Candice. I might have overreacted there just a bit. But I really don't think we need counseling. We'll be fine. When I get home, we'll try to do more things together and have a little more fun. I know you really want to go to Wonderland, so maybe we can go before the end of the season. It closes in October, right?
I don't want to talk to anyone about our problems. We don't really HAVE any, I don't think. Just leftovers from my parents, and I kind of think that'll be fine after I get home too. I've been doing a lot of thinking out here.
Anyhow, I hope work and everything is going well. Things are good here.
I love you.
Ian
Overreacted just a bit. The master of understatement struck again.
And had any part of what he'd been thinking about been what he'd said to me the day they'd died? Because if not, if we couldn't talk about that either, we would not be fine at all. And why'd he have to mention Wonderland, of all things?
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: I miss you
I didn't mean to upset you. If you think we'll be okay, then I guess we will be.
Everything's fine here.
I love you too.
Candice
I reread my response over and over, not satisfied with it but not sure what to add. I didn't want the kind of marriage where we just drifted along, not fighting but not really in love either. I wanted passion and romance and emotion and--
My cell phone, plugged in beside the computer, signaled the arrival of a text message.
Thanks for an amazing evening. Wish we could go there every night. I'll have a coffee here for you tomorrow if you text me when you're on your way. Take care of yourself.
I read this over and over too then reluctantly deleted it without replying, sent off my email to Ian, and got ready for bed.
What was I doing? I'd spent a wonderful day with Kegan and hadn't thought of Ian at all. I did have to work with Kegan, yes, but there was no reason to be spending time with him outside of work.
No reason, except that I enjoyed it. Which was probably the worst reason of all.
Wednesday, August 10th
My alarm went off in plenty of time for me to get to the gym, but I couldn't haul myself out of bed even though I'd had more than enough sleep. I felt made of lead, all heavy and dragged down.
True, Ninja was lying across my legs, but it was more than that.
I'd been doing so well, though, going every day, and I didn't want to break the streak. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed, plus a few borrowed from Ninja, but I finally managed to pull myself to a standing position. I dressed slowly and walked heavily down the stairs, then fed the cat and headed to the gym.
It was an absolute disaster.
I managed to walk on the treadmill for ten minutes before I couldn't go any longer. One minute on the elliptical nearly killed me, and the mere idea of lifting weights made me want to throw up.
I floated in the whirlpool, feeling miserable. Shouldn't I be getting stronger, instead of weaker? What was I doing wrong? A gym employee carrying a basket of towels walked past, and on impulse I called her over.
&
nbsp; "I'm getting more tired the more I come here. Shouldn't I be getting less tired?"
"How often are you coming?"
"Every day."
She blinked. "Since when?"
I thought back. "Last Wednesday. I didn't come on Sunday, but I was here twice on Thursday."
"I think you're pushing too hard. Come three times a week, four at the most, for a few months, and--"
I cut her off. "Months? I want to lose weight fast."
"If you keep this up, you'll totally burn out. Better to do three good workouts than five terrible ones."
"Good point. Thanks."
She smiled and walked away.
Was she right? It seemed like it should be 'the more gym the better', but it certainly wasn't working out for me at the moment. I could barely gather the strength to climb out of the whirlpool.
After I got dressed, I walked into the gym's lounge area and settled down on the plushiest couch I could find. I set my cell phone's alarm for thirty minutes, and probably slept for at least twenty-nine of them. I did feel a little better after my nap, but still so lethargic. I decided to try the gym girl's advice; my way seemed more likely to kill me than to make me thinner.
*****
I had a few things to take care of at the office, so as I left the gym it would have made perfect sense to head straight there. Instead, I hovered on the gym's front steps, unable to decide which way to go. Left led to the office. Right led to Kegan. I dithered for a few seconds, then headed off.
Turning right, I walked along in the warm sunshine, weaving through the crowds of people heading to work. I often wondered whether those people were happy with their lives, whether most of them were looking forward to getting to work or dreading it. Today, though, I found myself thinking about their love lives instead.
Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo Page 11
