Tiny stared, then burst into laughter. “It does, my friend, it does.”
Then he walked away with the wheel packed and running, leaving James to finish the round. He let it go a few more rounds while he found a place for Kerry to sit. Once parked on the top of an overturned five-gallon plastic bucket, she gestured toward the ride. “Go ahead and do your job,” she told him. “I’m fine and I’ll watch.”
He did, but was distracted by her presence. Her unexpected appearance amazed him, and although he liked it, James worried because he wondered what she might want. Maybe a fleeting reunion for old times’ sake, or just an evening spent catching up. He wanted her on any terms and in any way he could have her, but he realized that this Kerry wasn’t the teenage girl he once loved. And, although he wanted to know the woman she had become, he didn’t know her, not yet.
The Friday night crowds were thick and he faced long lines all evening. James filled every seat on the Ferris wheel each time he started a new round. When he could, he glanced at her and marveled at her beauty. By midnight, no more than a few die-hard customers remained. He ran the ride for the last time, then shooed the people toward the front lot. Fifteen minutes later, he shut down the engine and the lights.
Kerry stood and started in his direction. “Be careful,” he warned. “Or you’ll get stake-bit.”
She halted. “Snakes? Are there snakes?”
“Stakes,” he said, and emphasized the word. “It’s too damn easy to run into some of the stakes when it’s dark. You can end up with a nasty gash. Take my hand and I’ll try to steer you clear of them.”
James led her around the ride and onto the midway. Then he paused. “Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“Isn’t one of those RVs yours?”
He snorted. “Yeah, the littlest, oldest, and crappiest one of all belongs to me. I doubt you’d want to go there.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Yeah? Well, I do.” James couldn’t imagine her in his cramped quarters. “How about the diner if it’s still open?”
“I’d rather not,” Kerry said. “At this time of night, it’ll be packed.”
I knew it was too good to last. Now she’s going tell me good-bye and head for home. I probably won’t ever see her again. “Well, okay then.”
Her gray eyes became stormy. “What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t sit here for hours so we could go our separate ways. Jamie, I want more time with you and we need to talk. We can go to my apartment unless you’d rather not.”
Before she could change her mind, he spoke. “No, I’d like to, Kerry.”
She exhaled a long breath. “Then let’s go, Jamie, please.”
“Then c’mon,” he told her. “The truck’s over here.”
The old vehicle made him self-conscious, aware of its battered condition, and the odd pieces of trash littering the floorboard. He opened his mouth to apologize, then changed his mind. It’s not so different from my old Trans-Am. Maybe she won’t mind.
When she scooted across the worn seat to rest beside him, James thought he might die. Her closeness salved a deep hurt he had carried for too long, but it also brought a fiery passion. As her perfume filled the cab with its scent, he figured he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. After the weekend, the show would move on and Kerry would remain, rooted to the community in a way he barely could remember.
“Tell me how to get there,” he said, and she did.
Tucked away no more than two blocks from the business loop of the highway, running north and south through town, the apartment complex sat back from the road.
The brick façade reminded him of a thousand other apartments he had seen in his travels. Each unit had a dinky patio or balcony, James noted. He pulled into a vacant spot near the third building and parked.
Despite the late hour, quite a few windows remained lit. Something about it seemed homey and familiar, yet so far out of his reach that he wanted to bolt.
Kerry led him into the building and up a flight of stairs. She unlocked the first door to the right and stepped into darkness. James followed and when she switched on a lamp, he blinked against the rush of light. He resisted an urge to wipe his feet, afraid he might track dirt and grime into her pristine living space.
James stared as he glanced around. He saw a small kitchen area to his left, including a small, round dining table with two chairs. Cabinets, countertop, and an electric stove lined the far wall. Facing him was a sink, with additional storage space above and below. On the right side, a larger-than-he-expected living room radiated a sense of cheerful hominess. A long, three-cushioned green and white plaid couch filled the nearest wall, flanked by end tables, each with a vintage-style hurricane lamp. Across from the couch,, the television rested on a wooden chest next to a tall bookcase that held a combination of movies and books. Several pictures decorated the taupe walls. Two were prints of famous paintings. James recognized Monet’s Water Lilies from a high school art class, but the others were photographs. He gazed over them with little interest, until his attention stopped on their prom picture.
They stood together in front of the indoor waterfall at the Holiday Inn. James had posed with one arm around her slim waist, his hand resting on her crimson gown. They wore brilliant smiles, and staring at the image now, he thought he had never been so happy since that night. Probably never would be again. He wondered why she would hang it in her apartment after she’d broken off their relationship without any explanation.
His attention shifted to the French doors opening onto a balcony patio. Although small, it contained two Adirondack chairs and a few large potted plants. James wondered who sat outside with her and tried to ignore the burning jealousy the question evoked.
A short hallway opened from the living room. On one side, the bathroom offered the usual amenities. Across from it, he peeked into her bedroom. A single bed, a dresser, and a chair filled the space.
“Jamie?”
He turned to find Kerry seated on the couch. Her shoes rested on the carpet and she had tucked her feet beneath her body.
“You’ve got a nice place,” he said.
Her apartment offered all the comforts he had so long denied himself. She had turned the space into a home, a place to rest, recharge, and relax. Although nothing resembled any of the furnishings from his parents’ old house, Kerry’s living space brought back memories he had shelved a long time ago. Her apartment wrapped a sense of contentment around him and he considered kicking off his shoes, too. He didn’t, though, remembering the hole in his left sock with a protruding big toe.
“Thank you,” she said. “I like to think so.”
“You’ve got nice furniture,” he told her. He regretted the words as soon as he spoke, afraid he sounded like some old grandmother. “Teaching must pay well.”
Her smile turned downward into an almost-frown. “I bought most of this stuff with the last of the insurance money I was awarded after the accident,” she said. “Otherwise, I’d probably have thrift store and rummage sale stuff, like everyone else I know. “
“Accident?” He went on point like a bird dog in the presence of a pheasant. “What happened?”
Surprise widened her eyes. “I thought you must have known, but I guess not. Sit down, Jamie, and I’ll tell you. It’s one of the things we need to talk about.”
James sat on the opposite end of the couch. “But, you’re all right, aren’t you?”
Imagining Kerry injured hurt him. He knew what it was to lie in a hospital bed, body shattered and spirit broken. It would be the last thing he’d want her to ever experience.
“I’m fine,” she said. “But I wasn’t for a long time. If you didn’t know…”
“I didn’t,” he told her. “I would have come, no matter what it took to get leave. Hell, I’d have gone AWOL if I had to, Kerry.”
“Would you?” she asked. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I wondered so often why you didn’t come, or at least call or write to me. I thought you di
dn’t care anymore, that you’d moved on to someone else.”
“I always cared.” Something didn’t fit, he thought. Nothing made much sense. “When you stopped writing to me, and then the letters I sent came back marked ‘return to sender’, I thought you didn’t want me in your life.”
Frown lines cut deep into her face, from forehead to chin. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”
At least they shared the confusion. “Neither do I,” he said. “That spring, almost a year after we graduated, your letters stopped coming. I never knew why. I thought you wanted to break up with me.”
“Jamie, no, never,” she told him. “I bummed a ride home for Easter with some friends. I hadn’t planned to go back over the break but I decided to surprise my parents. Five of us crammed into Amber’s Honda. About halfway home, she changed lanes and we were hit by a tractor trailer. Amber, her sister Abby, and my roommate Susan all died. Mandy walked away with a few scratches, but I suffered major head trauma and a concussion. I had other injuries, too, but the concussion put me in a coma for two months. Last I remember, it was three days until Easter, and when I came out of it, it was the Fourth of July.”
James stilled. He needed time to process, to understand. Images of Kerry tossed around like a rag doll and in a hospital bed became so vivid he thought he might cry. “Oh, honey,” he said, the old nickname popping out of his subconscious. “Kerry, I had no idea. Like I said, if I had, I would have come.”
Tears trailed down her face, gentle as a spring rain. “I wished for you so much,” she told him. “I waited and hoped. I didn’t get out of the hospital until late August, and by then I knew you weren’t coming. I asked if you had written or called, but my dad said no. He lied, didn’t he?”
“’Fraid he must have,” James said. “And I’m sorry, Kerry. I should have tried harder.”
Her eyes gazed into his until he thought he might drown in their depths. “I should’ve believed in you,” she said. “I should never have given up. I know why the letters came back, Jamie. My medical bills were so high that my parents sold the house to help pay for them, and they moved to Jefferson where I was in the hospital. If the mail was forwarded and I suppose it must have been, my dad probably tossed them. I remember he wanted us to go our own separate ways, but I never suspected.”
The walls he had erected around his heart tumbled as the heartbreak of the past few years, while not healed, started to ease. He could breathe, he realized, and with a rush of tenderness, James moved beside her. “I’d like to hold you,” he said, his voice quiet as midnight. “I think I need to, Kerry.”
She nodded, and in the next moment he cradled her against his chest. Moved beyond words, touched past anything but instinct, James kissed her. His lips moved gentle against hers, soft and searching.
Kerry’s mouth scorched his. Her body rested against his and she wrapped her arms tight around him. Until then, James intended to be gentle, to use slow hands and a little finesse, but her response ignited his passion. He had waited far too long for this woman, and he sought pleasure without remorse. He lacked gentleness as he pulled her T-shirt over her head and worked her bra free. James released her breasts and marveled at them.
He kissed each nipple, then stroked them, using his thumb to make them blossom. Thanks to his efforts, her nipples grew firm. James raked his hands through her hair, enjoying the feel of her natural curl in his grasp. He slid one hand beneath her cami and caressed her belly, then worked his fingers upward to stroke her breasts again.
Kerry pressed against him, her hands jerking at his shirt and roaming beneath it. “Kiss me again, Jamie.”
“I can’t say no to a lady,” he murmured as his mouth swooped over hers like an invading army. His lips attached to hers with a vacuum seal and clung tight. Her mouth answered back in kind, and when she shuddered, James thought he would come. He reached to unfasten her jeans but Kerry beat him to it, then shucked them to the floor. He caught hold of her silken panties and removed them, his lips still locked onto hers.
Heat shimmered between their bodies, invisible but very real. James ran his hands over her body. His strong fingers brushed over her mound and then fondled her pussy. If he didn’t take her soon, he would pass out or die. Need trumped emotion or common sense as he gathered her into his arms, then carried her toward the bedroom. He retained just enough reason to avoid taking her on the sofa or the floor, although he doubted she would mind. Kerry gasped and moaned as he touched her.
James didn’t bother to turn back her comforter, but laid her on it. Waiting any longer would be impossible as he managed to shed the remainder of his garments. His cock ached with extreme need for release. He lowered himself onto Kerry and she took his manhood into her hand. In her grasp, his cock burned, hard as a dagger. James plunged into her soft space and filled it to maximum capacity. He dove deeper as the walls of her cunt squeezed hard to hold him tight. No way could he control his little noises, half moan, part groan, and uncontrolled outcries. He pulled almost out, then thrust back in and out in a way which delivered sweet, erotic sensations, like renegade electricity.
“Oh, Jamie, do me,” she cried. Her body twisted in the throes of delight. He ached to hurry, but instead he slowed and built toward climax with the skill of a torture master and superb lover. After he had waited so long for her, he was determined to enjoy the act to the utmost, so he held out as long as he could. His orgasm built toward intense physical pleasure and when he came, it was too little, too short, and he needed more.
“Again,” he told her.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh, yes.”
This time he went into her hard and quick, his cock consuming all the space and impaling her. Kerry bucked against him, apparently desperate for release as her hands clawed his back. They strained together, skin to skin, flesh against flesh, as everything hit. They came in a wild torrent of desire, of delight, and of delicious darkness. At the peak, he lost all vision and his world exploded with erotic wonder, his body convulsing and his heart pounding harder than a bass drum. Whatever happened next, he had this moment to keep and remember.
Chapter Four
He slept until morning, a miracle for a man who struggled each night to get any rest. James woke to the brilliant wash of sunshine in the bedroom, with a thick pillow beneath his head and a sheet pulled to his waist. Cool air currents stirred in the room, a sure sign that he wasn’t in his trailer. By sunrise, it would be stifling. Kerry’s perfume seeped into his consciousness and he remembered where he was—and why.
James sat up, rubbed his face, and shot out of bed with speed. Too fast, because his head spun dizzy for a few moments. When he recovered balance, he followed the enticing aroma of coffee floating through the apartment. Kerry sat at the table with a laptop open in front of her as she sipped from a blue mug. His heart leaped at the sight. God, she’s still so beautiful. As if she heard his thought, she glanced up and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Mornin’, honey,” he said.
“There’s coffee, if you want some.”
Damn straight he did. James needed the caffeine to provide a rush of energy, something to help him reason. “Thanks,” he said. When she started to rise, he waved one hand at her. “I’ll get it. I think I can still pour coffee.”
After his second cup, she closed her laptop. “Would you like some breakfast? I’ve got some sausage in the fridge, or some cereal.”
“Uh, I hate to be any trouble.” His morning meals tended to be some gnarly leftover in his fridge or something begged from one of the grease wagons. On rare occasions, he might head into the town with some of the others to eat a real meal.
As if she read his mind, Kerry said, “Or we could go out to grab a bite.”
That ranked among the last thing he wanted. If they should run into any of the carnies, they would swarm them, probably ask questions, and might upset Kerry. “I have to get back to the lot by noon,” he blurted out. His tone sounded harsher than he i
ntended. “I probably should be there now.”
Her cheerful expression soured. “Oh,” Kerry replied, then sighed. “I’d hoped we could spend some time together today. I didn’t figure you would have to go to work until this afternoon or evening. I thought maybe I could show you around town and stop at a few flea markets. I usually go on Saturdays.”
He repressed the urge to laugh. The show could be called a traveling flea market on wheels, he thought. Kerry’s suggestions touched him and also scared the hell out of him. “I wish we could,” he said. “But I have to be there, to run the ride to make sure it’s still working okay, turn in last night’s money, and help clean up the lot. What time is it, anyway?”
“It’s almost nine.” Her petulant tone surprised him.
“You sound disappointed.”
Kerry met his gaze without blinking. “I am, a little. It’s been so long, but I understand.”
Her tone sounded as if she didn’t. “Kerry, I’d like nothing more than to spend the entire day with you.”
“Then why don’t you?”
Why? He struggled to find a suitable answer and the harder he thought, the more out of place he became. Her cozy kitchen nook represented everything his life lacked. Things such as stability, home, a place in the world, he thought. Things he didn’t even dare dream about. Ironic, but he’d fought for such or thought he had in the sandbox, only to come home to find they eluded him. Kerry evoked a desire to have them, to try for a real life outside the carny world, but James couldn’t summon any ambition. He left it behind in Iraq, along with most of his self-esteem and the man he had once been. James spoke the truth as he saw it, and said what he felt within his heart.
“You deserve better,” he told her. He stared down into the dregs of his coffee as he spoke. “Your life is Sunday dinners and teaching kids, drinking coffee on a leisurely Saturday morning, and having a place to call home. My world is the show, the carnival. It’s staying up late and never feeling good and traveling from one town to another where I’m never welcome. It’s running a ride, wiping up puke or worse, and always moving on. It’s waking up and wondering where in the hell I’m at. Besides, I’m fucked up and have been since I got out of the Army. You need someone who isn’t.”
Carnival Glass Page 3
