Indulgence (144 page)

“Rest,” I breathe out.

“Yes, baby. I’m taking you back to the hotel. Let’s go get
some sleep.”

There’s movement and then muggy night air. I hear the click
of a seatbelt, and then feel the car moving. Next thing I know, I’m snuggled
down into the bed in the beautiful room at the hotel, and I can feel Jaz’s
warmth beside me.

When I take my three o’clock bathroom trip, I come back to
find Jaz sitting up in the bed with a glass in his hand. Once I’m back in the
bed, he holds the glass out. “Wine. Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”

I gulp it down, hand the glass back, and then just moan,
“Sleep.”

“Okay. Sleep,” he chuckles. Falling back to sleep with his
arms around me is no trouble – no trouble at all. I have another dream, but
this one has corn growing in a field and no people, just the rustle of the
silks and husks in the wind.

Sunshine pouring through the window wakes me, and I squint
and groan. Then there’s an annoyingly cheery, “Good morning, sleepy head! Wake
up!”

“What the hell?” I pull the pillow over my eyes and mumble,
“Fuck off.”

“Now that’s no way to talk to your Master!” Jaz laughs. I’m
not laughing. “Come on and get up. It’s Saturday. Let’s go do something fun!”

“Sleep.”

“No. No more sleep. Get up. Breakfast is here.” That’s when
I recognize the aroma – bacon. I need some.

“Okay. Bathroom, then breakfast.”

He just shakes his head. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be right
here.” I stumble into the bathroom, then come back out to find him filling a
plate for me. Today’s offering is a beautiful pile of bacon and hash browns,
and plenty of beautiful fresh fruit. “So,” he pipes up cheerfully, “what are we
going to do today?”

“I dunno.” I stuff another strip of bacon into my mouth.

“What do you want to do?”

“Uh-uh. No. I’ve been going and doing fun stuff for the last
three days. You have to choose today.”

He sits there thoughtfully, then asks, “What do we have to
choose from?”

Suddenly, I snap back to myself and realize what’s going on.
I have to work carefully, so I mention a half-dozen mediocre things we could do
and then add, “And there’s always Grant’s Farm.”

“Grant’s Farm. Where the Clydesdales are?” His face lights
up at the thought.

“Yep. We could go there, I suppose.”

“Hey, yeah! That would be great! I’d love that. Let’s do
that. Hurry, eat your breakfast so we can get ready and go.” He’s bouncing
around like a three year old and it’s really irritating.

“What happy bug got up your ass overnight?”

He just plops his fists onto the bed and leans over into my
face. “I love you, Kimmie.”

I just grouch and grumble out, “I love you too, you fucking
irritating cheerful bullshit damn it to hell son of a bitch.”

That just brings on a laughing fit. “Do you remember
anything
about last night?”

“Very little, thankfully.” And I mean that.

“No, I wish you did. Sweetheart, you were amazing. Everyone
thought so. They were all so impressed.”

Then I remember the face fucking and his dick out there for
everyone to see, and I’m horrified. “Did anyone say anything mean to you about
your scars? Because if they did, I’m going to hunt their asses down and kick
the shit out of them. Did they? I mean it, Jaz, I won’t have that shit. They’d
better not have . . .”

“Hey, Penis Avenger, chill out! No. No one said one mean
thing. Matter of fact, a couple of people told me that it really helped them
see themselves in a better light and be more self-confident. So thanks for
that, baby.”

“Okay. You’re not lying, are you? You’d better not be lying
because if you are . . .”

“No! I’m not lying! Shit, Kimmie, you’re in a foul mood.” A
big frown is directed at me.

Now I feel bad. “Sorry. I just don’t want anyone being mean
to you, that’s all.” When I see the mirth in those brown eyes, I have to smile.
“I love you, Jaz.”

“I love you too, babe. Now let’s get ready to go. I want to
go to this farm!” He’s pulling out clothes as he’s talking. “What do they grow
there?”

“Beer.”

Now he starts laughing again. “This I gotta see!”

*****

It is mega impressive to walk up to a gate at a place like
Grant’s Farm and just walk right in, but that’s exactly what we do. “Yes, I’m
here to see Mr. Foster?”

“Name?” I give her mine and she looks at a list, then says,
“Go right on in, Ms. Hendricks.”

“Thanks!” I take a peek at Jaz, and he’s totally bewildered.
“Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going? There are goats over there,” he says,
pointing.

“I know. We’ll see all that stuff later. Come on.”

“But Kimmie, what’s this about?”

“You’ll see,” I grin and give him a wink. We walk down the
little alleyway between two of the buildings, and then I open the door and we
step in. The bright, well-lit, modern office is a contrast to the older
buildings around the park, and we both blink a couple of times.

A young girl at the desk asks why we’re there, but before I
can tell her, Mr. Foster comes barreling out of the office. “Miss Hendricks! So
good to see you! I take it this is Mr. Givens?” Jaz’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks
at me like I’m a Martian.

“Yes, sir, this is my fiancé, Jasper Givens. Jaz, this is
Arnold Foster. He’s the park manager here.”

“Um, hello, Mr. Foster. Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice to meet you too, Mr. Givens. If you’ll give me
just a minute, I’ll get the photographer headed toward the barn and we’ll walk
over there to meet him.”

“Sure thing.” I shoot another glance at Jaz, and now he
looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel. It takes everything I have to keep
a straight face.

Once the walkie-talkie squawks out that the photographer is
at the barn, we head out with Mr. Foster leading the way. On the way, he tells
us things about the different buildings and crop programs they’ve got going on.
Even though he’s confused, Jaz is enthralled with everything Mr. Foster says
and asks a lot of questions about the farm. His interest is just further proof
that I’m doing the right thing.

Inside the barn, we can see the photographer near the far
end of the aisle, and we march straight down there. Mr. Foster’s been carrying
something, and now I see what it is: the certificate. We step up near the
photographer and Mr. Foster reaches out to slide open the stall door.

From inside its shadowy, cavernous depths, a large mare
stares at us, a lead snapped to her halter and tied to a cleat on the wall. And
standing beside her is a foal which would be considered tiny, except that he’s
a Clydesdale, so he’s pretty big. His big brown eyes are curious and a little
wary, but he takes a couple of steps toward the door and stands there, eyeing
all of us. The mare lets out a little nicker of warning but doesn’t make any
attempt to stop him, and he watches, front legs splayed out, while the
photographer gets everything set up.

“Okay,” he calls out to us, “now Miss Hendricks and Mr. Givens,
one of you needs to stand on one side of the plates, and one on the other.” He
points to the wall, and we both turn to look. That’s when Jaz finally figures
it out.

There, on the top plate, is
Agatha.
And underneath it
is another plate that reads
Jaz
. “So he’s . . .”

“Named after you. I wanted to give you a present that would
be unique to St. Louis, and I think I succeeded, don’t you?”

Jaz actually looks like he’s going to tear up. The
photographer snaps our picture and as soon as he’s done, Jaz starts to say
something but he’s propelled forward and almost falls. We both turn in shock
and, when we do, a furry face with a big white blaze straight down the middle
butts him in the belly and he starts to laugh. He puts a hand under the little
guy’s chin and says, “Hey there, kid! Look at you! You’re a big boy, aren’t
you?” The colt responds by nibbling at his fingers and blinking those big brown
eyes with those giant eyelashes at him. It’s beyond adorable, and I’m tickled
pink when I hear the camera snap again.

So we take more pictures. There’s Mr. Foster standing beside
me, and I’m holding the certificate. Jaz is on my other side and, there between
us, there’s a brown and white head sticking out. Jaz’s right arm is thrown
across the colt’s neck, and he’s scratching little Jaz Junior’s right ear. The
foal seems to be enjoying himself immensely, and so does my guy.

We’re told that the pictures will be up at the photo shop
whenever we want them, and I thank the photographer and Mr. Foster again, as
does Jaz. He says goodbye to his little buddy and we walk back out toward the
park. “I suppose I should go buy us some tickets, huh?” I smile at Mr. Foster.

“No, ma’am. You two are our guests today. Have a good time
and I hope you’ll come back to see your little namesake, Mr. Givens. Wouldn’t
it be great if he became the lead horse in the team?”

“Yes, it sure would! Hey, thanks so much, sir,” Jaz tells
him as we part, and we drop off the certificate at the photo shop so we’re
hands-free to wander.

I take a potty break and come back out to Jaz, but he’s
nowhere to be found. After looking around for a few minutes, I find him, foot
on the lower fence rail and arms folded on the top one. He’s staring out across
the field at the horses grazing there, and beyond them is some kind of crop.
I’m not sure what it is, but it’s really pretty and green. Moving up beside
him, I take a good look at his face and see a sadness there that takes my
breath away. My hand lands on the small of his back and I ask quietly, “Hey,
honey, whatcha doin’?”

He just shrugs and says, “Looking at the life I wish I had.”

I try to be cheerful. “It could still happen. You have to
have faith.”

His head drops and he shakes it. “Nope. Never gonna happen.
My dreams are over.” Then he turns to look at me. “But I’ve got you. Having you
to love and to love me makes up for all of that shit, baby. It really does.”

Oh, god, my heart breaks for him. He’s so miserable in what
he’s doing now, and I want to change that. I hope I can get everything set up
so we can move forward. I want him to have the life he dreams of and if I can
make that happen, I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been.

We walk back through the park, pet the goats, buy a beer and
a hot dog apiece, and just sit and enjoy the afternoon. Little kids play around,
squealing and laughing, and it’s just a fun, relaxing place to be. When we
leave, I’m genuinely sad to go, and I make him promise that we’ll come back
soon.

And he drops the bomb.

“Marlene’s meeting us for dinner.”

Shit. I knew I’d have to do this eventually, but I really
don’t want to. I don’t have any family to speak of – when they found out I was
in the lifestyle, they just shunned me – but I know his family is important to
him. “Okay. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“I’m still screwed,” he laughs.

“Oh, hahaha. You’re a really funny guy, Mr. Givens.”

“I try.” He waits for a few seconds and tries to look at me
as he’s driving. “Look, she’s a nice person. Actually, she’s my favorite of my
siblings.” I know he has another sister in Texas and a brother in California.

I have to know before I accidentally put my foot in my
mouth. “Does she know about your lifestyle choices?”

He’s slow to answer. “Yes. And she doesn’t understand, but
she also doesn’t judge. She pretty much raised me.”

I’m confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she pretty much raised me.” I wait, and finally he
says, “She was on the upward side of her twenties toward thirty when I was
born.”

“What?”

“I was a change of life baby, Kimmie. My mother was
forty-nine when I was born.”

“And your other brother and sister?”

“In Marlene’s age bracket. I was more like their child than
their younger brother.”

I’m shocked. He never told me
any
of this. “So, your
parents . . . did they . . .”

“My mom didn’t. She died when I was twelve. Breast cancer.
But I was in my early thirties when Dad died. He lived to be eighty-five.”

“Wow.” I don’t know what else to say.

“So Marlene loves me almost like a son, and she’s always
been a mother figure to me.”

“So she’s in her sixties?”

“Yeah. She’s, um, I think she’s sixty-six now.”

“Married?”

“Jack. He passed away a few years ago. Heart attack. She’s a
retired school teacher, so she has a good pension, plus his savings and
investments. He was a pediatrician.”

“I see.” How can I ask what I need to ask? Finally, I just
blurt out, “So if she doesn’t like me, is that the end for us?”

Jaz just snorts and shakes his head. “I’m a grown man,
Kimmie. She’ll like you, but if for some reason she doesn’t, well, that’s her
problem, not mine. Won’t change a thing.”

Yeah, you say that now
, I think,
but I bet reality
will be a lot different.
I just sit quietly after that, staring out the
window and trying to think about other things. Then I think about the day I met
Melissa.
Oh, god, if this meeting is anything like that one, I hope I die
right there at the table.

She’s waiting for us when we get to the restaurant, and I’m
struck by how attractive she is. She’s really, really lovely, and even though
she’s much older than Jaz, she’s very youthful and fit. “I’d like for you to
meet Kimmie. Kimmie, this is my sister, Marlene.”

“I’m so glad to meet you,” I gush, hoping I don’t sound like
an idiot.

“I’m happy to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Oh,
god, I’m sunk
, my brain screams. “I hope you like seafood. This place is
amazing.”

“I love it.” A host shows up to lead us to our table, and we
have a seat and commence with the small talk.