The Traveling Woman

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Did you tell Mom?”

  I laughed coldly. “God, no. I can do without her being all judgmental—or worse still, being all silent and disappointed.”

  “That’s not fair, Aimee. Mom loves you.”

  I sighed. “I know. I will tell her. Eventually. I’ll write her when I get to California.”

  “I guess you’ll be the one traveling now,” Jennifer said wistfully. “Don’t forget that you have a sister in Minnesota and your favorite nephew who adores you.”

  “I won’t,” I promised. “Love you, Jen. And give Dylan a big sloppy kiss from me.”

  I ended the conversation feeling a whole lot better.

  Mirelle had mixed feelings about me going, but she admitted that they were all selfish ones because she’d miss me. Although, I’d hardly seen her during the last few weeks. She and Zef had really hit it off, or as Mirelle put it, getting in as much horizontal time as possible before he left.

  Zef had been planning to go back down to Savannah to see his brother again, but he’d changed his mind and stayed in Concord. Mirelle smiled when she told me that.

  As Thanksgiving crept closer, I had other jobs to take care of, like informing my landlord. Even though I was breaking my lease, he gave me back my full security deposit and even said I could leave any furniture that I didn’t want for the next tenant, which was one less thing to worry about. There were plenty of other things to stress about, including selling my car.

  As for the rest of my possessions, Mirelle volunteered to take a few boxes, but she had a tiny studio apartment, and I couldn’t expect her to hoard all my junk.

  I packed my most precious possessions into cardboard boxes, and Mirelle brought her car over so we could load in the things that she was keeping for me.

  “What are you going to do with all your books, chica?” she asked, scanning the stuffed bookcase.

  “Some are going to the thrift store, but the rest . . .” I sighed despondently. “I don’t really want to get rid of all my college textbooks. Not yet, anyway.”

  Kes threw me a look, but didn’t comment.

  “I’ve found a self-storage place for $35 per month,” I went on. “It’s not huge, about 5 x 4, but more than enough.”

  Mirelle squeezed my hand. She knew how I felt about my books.

  “It’ll be okay, chica. No hay nada mejor que un día detrás del otro. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

  Kes and Zef carried my boxes down to Mirelle’s car as I began to pack away the rest. Seeing the empty shelves made it all real. I felt a small pang, but there were no second thoughts—I’d made my decision.

  I heard Kes walk back into the room and then he knelt down next to me and started to help put my books into boxes.

  We worked quietly for several minutes before he spoke.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Aimee?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile.

  Kes sighed and ran his thumb across his eyebrow. “Don’t bullshit me.”

  “I’m not! Okay, maybe a bit. But I’m fine, I promise. Anything that I really miss, I’ll buy the e-book version, right?”

  I looked up to find him watching me.

  “I’ll be fine. I promise. What time are you and Zef leaving in the morning?”

  “Five. We want to miss the rush-hour traffic.”

  The guys were heading out early to drive the RV to California. They needed to get back for a week of rehearsals with Tucker before the Thanksgiving weekend shows, and it was a long drive. I was going take a flight to LA to meet them as soon as school was over.

  Kes held out his arm so I could lean into his chest, relishing his solid warmth for one final evening.

  “It’s going to be a long two weeks,” I sighed.

  “I wish I could be here to help you sort your shit.”

  “Don’t worry about that; Mirelle’s going to help me. Anyway, with Zef gone, she’ll have nothing else to do.”

  Kes chuckled. “I’ve never seen Zef date anyone before. Hell, I’ve never even seen him go back for seconds, and I’ve known him nearly two years.”

  “You weren’t so different,” I reminded him.

  He side-eyed me for a moment.

  “Yeah, I went through a stage of chasing women. I thought I was the guy for a while. I got tired of having to ask the woman to introduce herself in the morning because I’d forgotten her name—if I’d ever known it. It gets old. Well, for me it did. Zef and Tucker . . . whatever, it’s their lives.”

  “Mirelle isn’t too much different either,” I admitted. “Maybe they’re made for each other.”

  Kes laughed, but then his smile faded.

  “It’s going to suck not having you in my bed.”

  I forced a smile. “Well, when you’re back in the RV, at least you should sleep more. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve woken up and then found you staring out at the stars.”

  Kes smiled sadly and rubbed my arms. “I never sleep much anyway, but its better with you there.”

  We stood in resigned silence, our bodies pressed together. And then a thought occurred to me.

  “Did you sleep outside when you went on your winter break? When you were a kid, up in Arcata Bay?”

  Kes shrugged. “The door was open most of the time, but if it was really warm, I used to sleep under the trailer with Mr. Albert. Goddamn monkey always stole my pillow.”

  I nodded, understanding the sadness in his voice.

  I held him then, because that was all I could do.

  Holding turned to touching, and touching turned to tasting, and when he picked me up and carried me to bed, we made love.

  The tension in his arms held questions: You won’t change your mind? You won’t forget me?

  And my body answered: Never. Never.

  We didn’t sleep much that night, and when he wanted to watch the stars, I went with him.

  I hated saying goodbye to him again. I think he felt the same. It probably helped having Zef there to hurry us up.

  Kes kissed me quickly. I told him that I loved him.

  “Love you more,” he said.

  It eased some of the pain in my heart to know that those words no longer burned on his lips.

  “Call me,” I said.

  He turned and winked, and then I watched him drive away. But only for two weeks, I reminded myself—and I had a lot of things to do first.

  Despite everything, the time went quickly. I was busy at school and busy at home. I sold my car, so for the last few days Mirelle drove me to and from school. It was a chance to spend a little bit of extra time together, too.

  Then it was my last day. The children were excited about Thanksgiving and full of all their plans. I was glad about that because I’d grown fond of them and knew that I’d miss them.

  I almost lost it when they presented me with a handmade goodbye card signed by everyone in my class, a beautiful drawing of a Ferris wheel on the front. I abandoned lessons for the rest of the afternoon, and we sat around eating cookies that I’d brought in (nut free, gluten free, dairy free—you know what schools are like), and we talked about life with the carnival. I think most of them thought that I’d spend all day long on the Ferris wheel or the tilt-a-whirls, and I was happy to let them believe in a little carnival magic.

  The farewell party in the staffroom was somewhat awkward. For one thing, most people were rushing away to catch planes or to make long drives to see their families, and for another Gregg was there, although he didn’t say much.

  Principal Browne made a short speech thanking me for my contribution, and saying that I’d be missed.

  I had happy memories of Walker Elementary School. I was sad to say goodbye, but excited to start my new life.

  My new life.

  LAX was hideous. A vast bunker of painful brightness, heaving with bodies, people milling around, stressed and foul tempered.

  I was tired after my long flight, a little nervous if I’m
truthful, but even though I’d never been there before, I felt like I was coming home. Kes was my home.

  I saw him before he saw me. He stood with his hands folded across his broad chest. Dark jeans, dark t-shirt, a scowl on his face and his eyes stormy. He held his ground without effort as people flowed around him, the crackle of his energy keeping them away.

  And then he saw me. His eyes sparked and lightened, his smile replacing his scowl, and he cut through the river of people toward me.

  He didn’t speak as he crushed me against his body, his arms promising that he’d never let go. He buried his face in my hair and breathed in deeply. With my cheek against his chest, I could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

  Then he lifted his head, and his lips were pressing against mine fiercely, his tongue insistent until I let him inside, moaning slightly at my first kiss in two weeks.

  It was intense, emotional, and romantic—in a Kes-style way.

  “Thank fuck you’re here,” he muttered as he let me go.

  I laughed. “You’re a poet.”

  He gave a wry grin, then walked with me to collect my heavy suitcases, picking them up without breaking a sweat.

  I was surprised when we he led me to a fancy looking sports car.

  “Did you rent this?”

  Kes looked amused. “Nope, it’s mine.”

  “But . . . I didn’t know you had a car. I sort of figured you for a truck kind of guy.”

  Kes laughed. “You wanna drive it?”

  “Yes? But not through LA. We’d die a horrible flaming fiery death. Not quite what I had in mind.”

  Kes winked at me, and slung one piece of luggage into the trunk and squeezed the other onto the tiny backseat. I sort of liked that this car was only built for two.

  We crawled through the afternoon traffic that never seemed to end. Kes was surprisingly patient, humming along to the radio, and turning to grin at me, his good mood infectious.

  “I can’t believe I’m really here,” I breathed out. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a long-ass two weeks. I’m so fucking happy that you’re here. I thought . . .”

  I glanced across at him as he mashed his lips together.

  “You thought I wouldn’t come.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

  I rested my hand on his thigh, feeling his muscle flexing as he shifted gear.

  “I’m really here.”

  He grinned again and reached down to squeeze my fingers.

  It took us an hour to drive through LA, then another 40 minutes before we reached the fairground at Pomona.

  I saw the Ferris wheel first, lit up in the twilight, the simple white lights making the huge steel structure seem almost ethereal. Without conscious thought, I touched the necklace that I never took off, my fingers stroking the tiny Ferris wheel set with a diamond at the center.

  As I sat up straighter in my seat, I saw Kes’s lips curve upwards, although whether that was because he could sense my excitement, or because he was in a place that felt like home, I couldn’t say.

  The fair wasn’t open yet; instead it lay dormant, the wide avenue of the midway with its silent stalls and unplayed games, its tricks and delights, waiting to unleash its pleasure on the paying public. It was a world within a world, a community of others, where being different was celebrated, expected, valued. It was also painted with a new face, hiding a darker history behind arcade games, glitz and glamor.

  I rolled down the window and imagined that I could smell the faint scent of the fair: hotdogs, onions, cotton candy. I was transported back over a decade, to the first time I’d visited the carnival, the first year I’d met Kes. It was magical to me then, and even though Kes had been the one to show me the puppet’s strings behind the illusion, the magic had not lost its power. I was home.

  Kes steered the car around to the staff area, and I realized for the first time how vast the fairground was.

  “Kes,” I breathed. “This place is huge!”

  “Yeah, one of the bigger ones,” he said nonchalantly.

  We were still driving around the perimeter.

  “How big are we talking?”

  He shrugged. “Uh, 550 acres, give or take. Almost a square mile.”

  “Wow! And the arena where you’re performing?”

  “It’s a racetrack, not an arena.”

  “Okay, well the racetrack then.”

  He looked at me sideways. “Ten thousand people.”

  My jaw dropped open, and it took me several tries before I could get the words out.

  “Ten thousand?”

  He scratched his thumb over his eyebrow. “It’s not sold out. So, maybe eight or nine thousand.”

  “Oh my God! Ten thousand people are coming to see you? That’s crazy!”

  He gave me a wry smile as I babbled.

  “I mean, not crazy! Of course not! That’s great! In fact, it’s freakin’ awesome. Ten thousand people.” I couldn’t get my head around it.

  “Yeah, it usually gets sold out on the last day.”

  I gulped. “How . . . how many days are you doing the show?”

  Kes grinned at me. “Three days.”

  I stopped speaking. I literally stopped speaking.

  “I never thought I’d live to see this day,” he laughed. “Aimee Andersen is speechless.”

  I nodded, temporarily mute.

  And then I spluttered out. “I’m sleeping with a freakin’ rock star!”

  “Does that make you my groupie?”

  “Hell, yes!” I snorted. “Except I’m the only groupie you’re allowed.”

  He held my hand and smiled happily. “You’re the only groupie I want.”

  “Good.” Then I smacked his arm. “But I’m not a groupie—just so we’re clear.”

  “Yes, ma’am. So what do I call you?”

  “Girlfriend will do.”

  Kes smiled so big, happiness radiating from him.

  “Works for me,” he grinned.

  Finally, he pulled into a gated area at the back of the vast compound, and a security guard waved him through.

  I could see a wide parking lot of RVs, trailers and caravans spread out in a line along the perimeter fence. As Kes drove across the bumpy ground, a trail of dust followed us.

  I saw the rig that Tucker drove with ‘Hawkins Daredevils’ written across the side. It still didn’t have an apostrophe. I was going to have buy a can of paint and fix it, because it really bugged me. I guess I hadn’t left behind the teacher in me after all.

  And then I saw Ollo standing with Tucker.

  “Oh my God! You didn’t tell me Ollo was here!”

  “I thought I’d surprise you. Zach’s here as my manager and Ollo goes where he goes. It’s working out pretty good.”

  “What about Luke? Is Zach still seeing him.”

  Kes pulled a face. “Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Ollo yanked open my door, beaming as I struggled out of the low seat, then he threw his arms around me, pulling me down to his height.

  “Oh, I’ve missed you!” I said, bending to hug the little man.

  “You too, honey,” he said. “It hasn’t been the same without you.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I smiled down at his lined face, tanned and well-worn like an old saddle.

  Then Tucker came striding over, wearing a cocky grin.

  “Babe! You came back to me. I knew you’d admit you couldn’t live without me in the end.”

  “You wish!” I said, trying to breathe as he bear-hugged me enthusiastically. “Anyway, I heard you’d hooked up with a hippy from San Francisco.”

  Tucker grimaced. “She kept trying to make me drink herbal tea.”

  “What a bitch!”

  “Tell me about it,” he pretended to moan. “And she wanted me to ride an eco-friendly motorcycle.”

  I choked on a laugh and Tucker pouted.

  Zef pushed Tucker out of the way and gave me a quick hug.
>
  “Mirelle says hi,” I smiled. “And she’s hoping to come out for New Year’s.”

  Tucker laughed out loud. “Jeez, another ball and chain!”

  So I socked him in the stomach, and he faked looking hurt.

  Kes pushed them both out of the way and slung his arm around my shoulders. I’d noticed that he did that when the guys were horsing around like this. Or whenever there were any other men in the vicinity. I sort of liked it.

  We left the guys to carry my bags, which they did without complaining. Kes led me straight to his bedroom in the RV and started pulling at my clothes.

  “Kes!” I yelped, not even certain that the door was shut.

  “Can’t wait,” he muttered as he yanked my skirt up and my panties down.

  He pushed his own jeans over his hips and gave me a burning look as his thick cock sprang free, heavy and dark with desire.

  I crawled onto the bed on my hands and knees, gazing provocatively over my shoulder.

  His breath stuttered and he mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

  But then his hands reached for me and he quickly rolled me onto my back.

  “Gotta see your face, Aimee.”

  He entered me with one long, certain thrust, his breath hissing from his lungs as he stared down into my eyes.

  “Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he groaned, as he rolled his hips.

  I locked my ankles behind his back and pulled him in closer. Then his lips were against my throat as his rhythm rapidly gained speed.

  Soon, he was racing his own need, and desperation taking over as I clenched around him, calling out, as my head slammed against the headboard.

  It didn’t seem to matter how far down on the bed we started, I always ended up in this position.

  Kes slumped down on top of me, his breath rasping from his throat.

  “Shit, that was quick,” he said.

  “It certainly woke me up after my flight,” I snickered, biting his earlobe.

  He chuckled quietly and rolled onto his side so we were facing each other.

  His hand trailed down my body until it was resting on my hip.

  “You’re really here.”

  His voice seemed almost disbelieving, as if I would vanish any second, the same way the carnival city vanished from my field when I was a little girl.

  “Looks like I am,” I smiled.