Chapter 51

It dawned on me that the reason everyone wasn’t saying goodbye was that they were all going. Susan faced me and forced a lame smile. “Say goodbye, and I need to see you when we get back from the airport.”

Jesselyn’s rattlesnake eyes cut into me as her lips approached mine. Hers were soft and moist pressed against my mouth long enough to make me uncomfortable. She hugged me and pulled back to look into my eyes. I saw the face of a troubled young lady, Susan in five years. She kissed me again with even more uncalled for passion and whispered in my ear, “You’re special to them, and they’re really going to need you to be there for them, now.”

Jesselyn stepped back and spoke at a normal volume, “It was really nice getting to meet you. I hope we meet again, soon.” She smiled with a genuine warmth that made me want to hug her again.

Jasmine’s glance was that of a person stinging from painful news. Her silence was uncharacteristic and sickening. My heart broke as she climbed into the car. Jeremy gave me a quick guy hug and a cordial, “Nice to meet you,” then he entered the car next to Jasmine.

Once everyone had boarded the large Cadillac, and the engine was cranked, I knew for sure there was no Mr. Davis going on this trip. The scene seemed more like a funeral run than a drive to the airport. The cool gray day set the stage perfectly for the end of act one of a family drama. Act two opened with a worried and sad young man questioning everything, with his heart feeling as cold as the November drizzle that started falling on his head.

I started toward my house, playing a rerun of their expressions in my mind, trying to figure out what it all meant. Everyone could have been a little down because the visit was over, but I couldn’t fathom Jasmine’s great love for me from yesterday could have been turned off overnight. Why didn’t she talk to me? How much does my mother know? What did Jesselyn mean by “now”? I reached my house with a brain full of questions and a heart crushed by a love that seemed more dangerous than hate.

After a few minutes with my mother asking questions, I got a light jacket, I told her I was going for a bike ride. She looked out the window and stated the obvious. I said, “I don’t care if I get wet.”

She countered with, “What about lunch? I could make you something.”

“I’ll eat turkey or one of the green moldy things in the back of the refrig.” My humor was more for my down mood than my mother’s entertainment.

“You sure? I’m going out, so.”

“I promise, Mom,” I said. “I’ll be fine, and no I don’t want to volunteer at the nursing home. I know I’ll be old and smell funny one day, too, but for now, I’d rather ride my bike in the rain.”

My mother’s concern might have made me fall for her tactic, but I heard Mrs. Davis’s words play in my head. I wouldn’t underestimate my mother, and it wasn’t as if I could tell her about my life spiraling towards the pit of hell, anyway. Plus, not knowing how much my mother knew made it impossible to share any part of my pain. I’d eventually have to solve my own problems, might as well start now.

I resisted the urge to kiss my mother as I headed for my trusty steed. I hadn’t mounted my Schwinn for months, and I was sure it wasn’t going to compare to what I had been mounting, but I needed to clear my head. In the old days, I could ride my bicycle for endless hours. In my imagination, I was a cowboy on a horse or a tough biker dude on a Hog. I’d race through plains rescuing beautiful Indian squaws, or save women from mean members of opposing gangs. I’d see a girl like Jasmine and in my dream world, I’d swoop in and lift her to the back of my speeding horse. I’d carry her away and kiss her, then we’d fall in love.

The rain pelting my face acted as a cleansing for my soul as I screamed down the hill we called the widow maker. The first time I dared to take the dirt hill without using the breaks, I didn’t even know what a widow was. I had wrecked and skinned my knee so bad I cried. Now, even knowing what a widow was, I pedaled hard for extra speed. There was no fear to be found. It’s amazing how things change. Not long ago, Jasmine was as intimidating as the daunting hill. Now, she had to be stolen away on horseback and raced to safety where we could fall in love and live happily ever after. Things were so different, and in many ways, things were exactly the same.

I cranked hard as I pushed up the incline in front of the Primdales’ large house. I couldn’t help notice Allison’s fine ass as she leaned into the trunk of the car. Their nanny, or whatever she was, made my heart pound. Her skirt wasn’t enough to contain all of her luscious rump as she stretched. I almost hit their mailbox as I gawked, thinking I was getting a glimpse of her panties.

My memory took me to the patch of woods just down the road, where I had ducked in once and jerked off. The thrill of that frightful act of perversion rushed up my spine like the trail of water spraying from my rear wheel. I couldn’t help wonder what purpose my lust served. It had saved me from a jealous explosion the night before when the love of my life got drilled by her cousin. It had also blinded me to the potential consequences of fucking the mother of my girlfriend.