Oregon Trails

by Olivia Gaines

  Kalinda’s head was pressed against the driver’s side window glass as she held her stomach in laughter.

  “I’m glad you find my pain amusing,” he mumbled.

  The laughter continued as they spoke of the gala and Luke’s award, a prize which Paul’s brother pretty much presented to himself as a reward for his own hard work.

  “I did find your father amusing,” Kalinda whispered. “Especially his views on women.”

  The road spread wide, opening to the most picturesque scenic areas she had ever seen in her life. Momentarily, her mind drifted into the rolling mountains and hills of the Oregonian countryside. They entered the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic area, her mouth hung wide as wildflowers painted the landscape in colors so vibrant it seemed as if God has used his finger to create a watercolor mural.

  “My father’s views on women is nothing in comparison to yours. I am still unclear on you and Connie. You are the same age and you grew up together?”

  It was best to get it out of the way now so they could never speak of it again. The four hour drive to La Grande would have to be filled with conversation, but this one was a bit early for her liking. Sighing deeply, her eyes venturing out of the window, hoping the beauty outside would shield her from the ugliness she held inside. An ugliness he was about to learn.

  “My father is pretty much just like yours – his last name carries weight in the small town of Bainbridge. Right and wrong depends on the amount of money you have to make good church folk look the other way. My Daddy was so brazen that he wanted the woman he loved close to him, so in order to have her in his house, he made her his maid. He made Connie in the front bedroom of the house in January and on Valentine’s night, he made me in the back of the house with his housekeeping Mammy,” Kalinda said. “The sad part is my mother believed them to be in love and ended up raising both Connie and me.”

  Paul drove, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her pain was obvious in the way she held her stomach. She gripped her waistline as if the ugly truths coiled inside her were about to burst free.

  “I coped by making up stories in my head that my mother stayed all of those years to give me an opportunity for a better life. I saw it as nothing different than the plantation owner making sure his child didn’t work the fields,” Kalinda said. “I did have standards, though. I refused to ever wear any of Connie’s hand me downs.”

  “You two have an odd relationship. She doesn’t really like you,” Paul said.

  “Connie hates my guts,” she said.

  “Is she part of the reason you were anxious to get away?”

  “I got away from Bainbridge when I was 18. I went to college at Georgia State in Atlanta. I graduated GSU and got hired by CNN to do puff pieces on the news which led to me starting my blog, “Girl Please !”

  “Cool name for a blog. Will you start one for us?”

  “Yes, it will go with our website if I can get George to come out to shoot some video and images of the trails,” she said. “If not, I will shoot them myself.”

  “Oh, will you?”

  “I am a trained journalist. I can shoot, edit, write, document and all,” she said with a wink of her eye.

  “Is there anything you can’t do, Kalinda Darton?”

  Her voice dropped low, “Find my place in the world...”

  Paul’s hand reached out to touch her thigh. “Maybe the perfect place in this world for you is becoming the center of my universe.”

  “Aww, you just saying that because you want meat and potatoes on Wednesdays,” she said.

  “I also want hot sex twice a week,” he said with a grin.

  “We have to have sex first,” she said to him.

  “Oh, we will!” He said as he squeezed her thigh. He looked at the chunky watch on his wrist that was loaded with moving parts and little dials. “We are about two and a half hours out. If we swing through a drive-through for a bite to eat, home and that bed will be ready for us by noon.”

  “Paul, can I ask why we didn’t yesterday...you know?”

  They were making great time. At the three-hour mark, he entered the Irrigon City limit still doing about 70 miles per hour.

  “That hotel has sucked the joy out of my life. I didn’t want my memory of making love to my wife for the first time to be associated with that place. Our first time together will be in our home, in our bed.”

  The smile she gave him was enough for right now.

  “Can I ask why Connie hates you so much?”

  “She blames me as the reason her parents could never work it out. Her mother is a social lush who uses special events as a reason to drink. Yet, that woman is a skilled fundraiser,” Kalinda said.

  “That woman?”

  “Yes. In my head if I never spoke her name, she would not be real to me. Connie is not real to me. She and her mother are villains in the story of my life. Those two are my Darton Inn & Suites,” Kalinda said.

  “Talk to me, Kalinda. Tell me or try to say what you have never been able to tell another soul,” Paul said.

  The dark place inside of her belly that had held years of self-doubt and recrimination of never being good enough to eat in the dining room in Lancaster House began to bubble. The years of coming through the back door instead of being able to use the front like a person who had value to the Lancasters stirred in her gut. Eating their leftovers each day for dinner. Connie’s mother referring to her as ‘that child of Annie’s.’ All of it, ate away at her self-worth.

  “I hate them with a passion few could ever understand. It makes me sick to my stomach that woman would pretend that she didn’t know about her husband and my mother. When my mother began showing in her pregnancy with me is when she made my Mama move into that little two-bedroom house with the holes in the walls. Daddy had them fixed after he slipped in one winter night for some loving and nearly froze to death. That’s when he fixed it up, because he couldn’t get to his woman in the cold. He fixed it because it inconvenienced him to be cold. He didn’t fix it because his child nearly had pneumonia, but because it was too cold for him to get it up. Nothing is worth correcting unless it inconveniences them – anything else it is irrelevant in their everyday lives. I hate those kinds of people. That is why I want to stick it to all of the naysayers who think you are nuts. I did the preliminary research, I know what we have,” she said firmly.

  Paul was quiet.

  “I’m sorry. I went off on a tangent,” Kalinda whispered. His profile was strong as he stared ahead at the road. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking if I do 90 miles an hour, we can be home and in that bed making love in about 45 minutes,” he said.

  “Is that all you can think about? I just shared with you something I have never told anyone and you want to make love?”

  “Yes. You are so vulnerably beautiful right now. Your skin is flushed, your pupils are dilated, and I am turned the hell on. I don’t know whether to pull over to hold and to comfort you or find a secluded spot to take you right there.”

  “Dear Lord,” she said, pressing her hand to her chest.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across a rutting bull in heat.”

  “It’s okay. It turned me on,” she said gnawing on her bottom lip. “Paul Darton, you turn me on a whole lot.”

  “Good because I’m going to turn it up a notch soon as we hit that front door. I hope you are ready, Mrs. Darton,” Paul said with a wink.

  Kalinda suddenly felt more at ease than she had with any man ever before in her life. The attraction she felt for him was real. The sexual tension was real. The ache between her thighs for the feel of him pressing into her was genuinely real.

  For the first time in her life, the life she was living felt real.

  “I’m ready to handle anything you think you can dish out,” she said as a challenge. He cut his eyes over at her as if he accepted her cheeky call to action.

  “I just bet you can,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter 10r />
  T he more Paul drove, the antsier he was becoming. Kalinda could see that he was ready for something more than talking and a few kisses. One touch and he was going to be guaranteed to blow his load before the fun even began. She hadn’t had an opportunity to properly feel him up to see what tools were at her disposal, but she wanted him unlike any man she’d ever met before.

  The sexual side of her had not been tapped. The football player, which is pretty much what she always called him, was a boring lover with no imagination. Foreplay for him was licking two fingers tickling her clitoris like it was a hanging uvula until she slapped his hand away. The one time she’d actually orgasmed with him was the one time he snorted too much cocaine after an off-season party. He stayed hard for hours. Kalinda took advantage by riding him until her lavender scented love spot was sore. That was also the only time she had ever been sore from having sex with him. The myth that all black men were hung like elephant trunks was disproven when it came to him as well. The exacerbated situation was made worse by a man unwilling to listen and learn how to use the tools he was given.

  Her legs remained crossed as she listened to the uneven breathing of her husband.

  “Paul, would you like me to drive a bit?” she asked as she munched on a French fry.

  “Naw, I got it. If you start driving, then my hands will be free and I will probably start touching you,” he said frowning.

  He exited I-84 in La Grande, barreling towards Island City and into Imbler. He sped up through Elgin, driving at a steady pace into the Wallowa Valley.

  “Paul! Stop please,” she said staring at the backdrop of loveliness of the scenery. The green pines trees lined up like soldiers climbing up the three snowcapped covered mountains. The lush green fields were dotted with sparse herds of wild horses while white fluffy clouds danced above the crests of mountain tops. “I have never seen anything so gorgeous in all my life.”

  “This is nothing. The view from your front porch is going to change your understanding of where you stand in the universe,” he told her. These words were spoken as he continued to drive for the next thirty minutes on a two-lane road towards Joseph. Kalinda spotted a sign that said Imnaha 30 miles.

  “Only 30 miles to go,” she said looking at him with smile.

  "Mhmmhmmm," he said with pressed lips.

  On the outskirts of Joseph, Paul sped past the Imnaha Inn. Paul mumbled something about it being 7,000 square feet but you still had to share a bathroom. The paved road took them into the city of Imnaha in which he slowed down at the intersection in the middle of town, paying close attention to a sign that read ‘Goats in the Road.’ Kalinda looked around. It was the only intersection in the small town. It was right before a small post office.

  “Is that your post office, Paul?”

  “Yep,” he said as he rolled right by it, heading up the hill. To right was the Imnaha Store and Tavern. A man on the front porch waved at Paul. He tooted his horn and continued to roll slowly past.

  “We are not going to stop?”

  “What part of you and I have a date are you unclear on, Kalinda? I am still trying to figure out how eating French fries can be so damned sexy...” he mumbled.

  “If you keep this up, you are going to be too worn out to do anything,” she said softly.

  “No, if I keep this up, I am going to wear you out to the point you won’t want to do anything else for the rest of the night,” he said, looking at her with a twinkle in his eye. The shocked expression in her face made him want to recant his words.

  “So if you think after driving for nearly five and a half hours, you are going to wear out anything other than a pillow with your hair and drool, you must have had some of your Grandma’s marijuana tea,” she told him with an equal twinkle in her eye.

  Paul had slowed down considerably and now was driving at a snail’s pace.

  “Why are you driving so slowly?” she asked, getting somewhat anxious to get home herself.

  A large goat wandered into the road.

  “That’s why,” he said. The large goat was followed by another, then another, and yet another.

  Finally, outside of the town of Imnaha, off the Imnaha Highway was a long dirt road almost heading into Hell’s Canyon, but Paul veered left, coming up a hill to a small house that overlooked the Imnaha River.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Darton,” he said to her.

  It was the most adorable little house she had ever seen in her life. “Paul, it is lovely.”

  She jumped from the vehicle before it came to a complete stop to run up on the front porch. It wasn’t much of a porch, but large enough to hold two chairs, a little flower pot, and a small table for her tea cup. Maybe I will write that novel . The loveliness ended when he opened the front door. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her across the threshold into the smelliest place that stunk like something had died in a hole three months prior.

  Kalinda started to gag. “Oh God what is that?” She held her hand over her mouth and her feet touched the floor as he lowered her from his arms.

  “I don’t know. Let me go see,” he said as he checked the traps to find a dead animal covered in maggots and flies. She gagged again as he carried the animal in the mouse trap outside.

  “Bathroom?”

  “That way,” he pointed from the back door. There really weren’t many choices since there were only three doors. The smallest one she took to be the bathroom. It didn’t smell much better inside of there either.

  “It smells like ass, cabbage, and anger in this bathroom. My Lawd!” she yelled, running out the front door to the car for body spray and candles. She tore open the box and pulled out two large scented candles that she lit the moment she walked back through the front door. Paul was still out back discarding the dead animal by starting a fire in a pit. The patio, which she stared at in awe, was an outdoor paradise. The backdrop of the wide-open mountain range was a spectacular sight. Roasting marshmallows over a fire with a hot cup of cocoa on a cool autumn evening flashed in her mind as the hot coals began to crackle.

  “Is that a tub?” she asked, pointing at the lowered oval fixture.

  Paul turned looking at his wife standing in the doorway. “It is a hot tub,” he said with no expression on his face.

  “Seriously? Is that a cook stove attached to it? You actually burn fire wood to make it hot?” she asked incredulously. “What are you a lobster?”

  “You are trying to change the subject to postpone our lovemaking,” he said flatly. An outdoor pump sat upright next to the fire pit like a lone soldier awaiting orders as he pumped the red handle furiously forcing the water upwards from its sleeping tomb. He washed his hands and face with the clear liquid, his eyes still on her.

  “No. I do think we need to talk about a few things first though,” she said.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Children...birth control...safe words,” she said frowning.

  “Safe words? What do you plan on doing to me?”

  “I’m not planning on doing anything out of the ordinary...I just want to make sure we are on the same wavelength before we step back inside of that house,” she said.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “My wife is getting cold feet,” he said.

  “No. I just think I have the right to know what kind of lover you are before I go in there...and well...and...you know...,” she said.

  “I don’t know, Kalinda. What are you getting on about, eh?”

  Fisted hands went to her hips.

  “I want to know what kind of lover you are, Paul Darton,” she asked with a firm face.

  “I dunno, a good one?”

  “No, are you gentle, rough, quick, fast, slow, a giver, selfish, or a roll off to go to sleep afterwards type...,” she said with a stern face. “I deserve to know what I am getting into before I walk in that bedroom.”

  Paul took a step closer to her. “You picked a fine time to ask, considering you are already here. My wife...and all. I guess if that is th
e case, I also deserve to know what kind of lover I am getting as well, wife. Are you a whiner, a moaner, a woman who closes her eyes until it is over...are you the type to give me everything you have each time I touch you?”

  He said the last words running his index finger down her arm and watching the flesh prickle under his touch.

  “It depends on what you are dishing out, husband,” she said as her hand trailed down the front of his shirt. “I mean what are your terms...you know, your limits.”

  He arched an eyebrow. Lowering it, moving two steps closer to her, backing her into the door. “You don’t stick anything up my ass and I won’t stick anything up yours, how’s that?”

  “Fair...anything else?” she asked, backing up slowly, looking over her shoulder to see where he was guiding her as if she didn’t already know.

  “Yeah, I don’t lick anything that walks away when I’m done with it,” he said.

  “Then don’t expect me to suck anything still attached to a body,” she said with an crinkled brow.

  “You didn’t answer me, Kalinda,” he said. “What kind of lover am I getting before we head into that bedroom?” He kicked off his shoes as he asked the question.

  This was about to happen. This is about to happen. No ducking. No dodging. No I have a headache tonight. I don’t even get a shower first.

  The look of pure need in his eyes sent waves of desires through her body, pooling at the juncture between her thighs. Kalinda raised her knee to untie her shoe and kick off the right one, followed by the left. She watched him yank off his socks. She followed suit.

  “I’m still waiting for your answer, wife,” he said to her, untucking his shirt.

  Kalinda felt bold. He wasn’t going to have all the fun. If she was going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, she at least wanted something to look forward to at the end of the day. She got brazen. Tell the story, Kalinda .

  “I am going to make love to you so good, the moment it is over you are going to send your Mama a postcard thanking her for making you a real live boy,” Kalinda said, unbuttoning her blouse.