Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (34 page)

Every night after he called her, he wrote her a letter. Each letter became a confessional, him expressing himself in a way Evie had never seen or heard. He never promised her flowers and poetry or words of love. But he implied that and more in his letters to her.

“I saw peonies today and thought of you.” Or, “I saw this quote by John Barrymore, whoever that is, and thought of you – ‘Happiness often sneaks through a door you didn’t know you left open.’”

She lit up like a firefly when she read statements like those. They were words he’d never tell her, things he had never dared to say, but give him a pen and paper and he was an open book. He was a covert romantic, and Evie relished the surprise of this side of Finch each time she opened a new letter.

***

It was nine thirty at night, and the phone rang more than once in Evie’s house. Katie rushed to answer it before it rang a fourth time. “Hello,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

“Hi Katie,” Finch said. Cars honked their horns and car engines revved up in the background.

“Sounds like you’re on a race track,” Katie said.

“Just outside of Knoxville, Tennessee. I thought this state was known for Jack Daniels and country music. But everyone around here just likes to go cruising,” he said.

Katie let out a forced giggle and then became quiet.

“So how’ve you been?”

“I’m, I’m good,” she said, fumbling for words.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Is Evie there?”

Katie hesitated.

“Katie?”

“Um, no she’s not here,” she answered with a slight stutter.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“She’s with Cooper and Spence,” she said.

“At this time of night?”

Silence.

“Katie, what’s going on?”

“It’s not good, Finch.”

Chapter 33

Finch pressed the receiver closer to him. “Tell me, Katie. What is it?” he said with a note of concern.

“She wouldn’t want me telling you,” she said.

“Telling me what?”

Silence.

“Katie?” he sounded desperate, and Katie couldn’t stand to hear him like that.

“She’s about to lose the farm, Finch,” she said.

“What?” He fell back against the glass in the phone booth. “How?”

“She wasn’t going to tell me, either. She didn’t want any of us to know,” she explained. “I went to town to run some errands and ran into my dad. We had a pretty nasty exchange of words, and he basically hinted that Evie’s land was gonna be his soon.” She paused and sighed through her nose. “I didn’t know what he meant by that, and when I got up enough nerve to tell him he had lost his mind, he said it’d only be a matter of time till I crawled back home because I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. Because her land would be his.” She shuddered, thinking back to that moment.

“Katie, I’m sorry,” Finch said.

“It’s okay, Finch. It’s okay,” she said reassuringly. “I’ve come to terms with him...”

Finch waited for her to continue.

“When I came home, I went straight to Evie to ask her what the hell my dad was talking about. Losing the farm? It didn’t make sense, and you know what, Finch? She just lost it right there and then.” Katie sniffled, and Finch’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s been keeping this burden on those bony shoulders of hers all by herself, trying to take care of it on her own.”

“How, Katie? How?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “How is she losing the farm?”

“Evie got notice from the bank that Mr. Gray had taken out a loan against the property,” she said.

Finch felt his knees buckling. He knew what was coming next.

“And she owes five thousand dollars by the end of this week or the bank is going to repossess the farm. I think Mr. Gray was banking on making enough money this summer to pay it off but he was too far in debt, Finch,” she cried as she said it. “Evie’s planning to sell off all the heifers and calves but that won’t cover everything she owes. She won’t be able to pay any of her other bills if she doesn’t have any cattle.” She wiped her tears from her face and sucked in some air.

Finch dried the damp spots on his face with the palm of his hand. “She can’t do that,” he whispered.

“She has to. It’s the only way to satisfy the bank right now,” she said. “She’s talking to Cooper and Spence about different options. Cooper says he doesn’t want her to sell off her cattle, but she doesn’t see any other way. She loves this land, Finch.”

“I know,” he said.

“If she loses it, it’ll crush her, Finch.”

The operator interrupted, “Deposit another dime please.”

“I have to go, Katie,” he said.

“I’ll tell Evie you called,” she tried to calm her quivering voice.

“It’s going to be all right, Katie,” he said. “Don’t let Evie sell those cattle. You hear? No matter what, don’t let her.”

And the line went dead.

***

Finch walked in Kip’s tent without knocking. Kip sighed heavily and scolded, “It says knock.” He pointed to the make-shift sign that dangled above the entrance.

“If I did, you wouldn’t have let me in,” Finch said.

“What do you want, Finch?” he said with exasperation. The two didn’t see eye-to-eye about how the situation with Dmitri was handled, and since that time, there had been nothing but tension between them.

“I need to know what circuit David Mills is on,” he said.

“Why?” Kip pushed his papers to the side and stared up at him. “And what makes you think I know where he is.”

“It’s none of your business why I need to know,” Finch said. “And I know damn well you know where he is. You carnival owners talk, and I’m sure you’ve heard which crappy carnival was dumb enough to take his sorry ass.”

“After all this time, you want to talk to your father?”

Finch looked at his wrist watch and then back at Kip. “I’d like to leave tonight.”

He paused and pursed his lips. “He’s in Memphis,” he finally answered. “With Wes Wheaton’s Carnival.”

Finch made a face. “He’s sinking lower than I thought,” he said.

He left without a goodbye. Just a scribbled note folded on Stoney’s chest telling him he was borrowing his truck and wouldn’t be back for a while. It was pitch black outside. The roads were isolated, and only the moon and stars above provided any glimmer of light. Stoney’s old truck shifted hard into third gear, and Finch could hear rocks and gravel flying up as he sped through the night.

***

He drove into the early morning. He rode without a compass, just on instinct alone. Wes Wheaton’s Carnival was a cheap imitation of Kip’s, one of
those
kind, as Kip would refer to it. But Finch knew that Kip didn’t have the right to judge anymore. He lost that privilege when he allowed Dmitri to leave unscathed and without any repercussions for what he had done.

He pulled into a make-shift parking lot, turned the engine off, and sat there for a while, tapping his fingers against the weathered steering wheel. A few carnies were up, getting ready to start their day. The land wasn’t pretty, not like Evie’s, and trash was everywhere. Trash cans were overflowing with paper cups, plates, and other crap, and Finch got a whiff of rotting food when he opened the truck door.

He searched through the carnival. He peeked at feet under trailers, and into tents tattered with holes and ripped seams, rides that looked as old as the Earth, and employees that looked hard—hard in life with stories that wouldn’t be pleasant to hear. Some people wore their lives on their sleeves, and he could see a mile long trail of stories that would make anyone squeamish if they sat down to tell them.

An older woman with smeared lip stick and mascara, showing too much cleavage and more than enough leg, approached him. She licked her lips and tried to smile seductively, but with her yellow teeth and tangled up hair, it just wasn’t sexy. It was pathetic. And maybe her charms or overt offers of a quick roll in the hay would work on a rube or a horny guy desperate for some action, but they didn’t work on Finch. His heart belonged somewhere else, and he just stared at the woman feeling sorry for her.

“Where you going, handsome?” she said. Her voice was husky, and it was obvious from the stench and sound of her that she smoked more than a pack a day.

“I’m looking for David Mills,” he said.

“David? Whatcha want with him?” She lay her hands on him.

“Do you know where he is?” He brushed her hand off of his arm.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t,” she teased. “You his kin? You’re the spittin’ image of him, just a younger, more delicious version.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he said with irritation.

She shot him a dirty look. “You’re no fun, are you?” she said with a huff. “He’s over there.” She pointed to a nearby tent.

He went on his way and stood outside that tent, taking a few deep breaths before he entered.

David and a woman lay stark naked on a blanket, and when Finch got a closer look at the woman’s face he realized she had to have been Evie’s age or not much older.

“David!” he yelled.

David’s chest rose and fell flat, and he snored heavily.

Finch kicked him on his side and shouted his name again. “David!”

David jerked upright and looked at Finch with a dazed expression. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and took a closer look at him and scrunched his face. “Finch?”

Finch heard the uncertainty in his voice.

“David,” he answered with annoyance. The man was his father but couldn’t recognize his own son.

“What are you doing here?” He looked down at his exposed groin and then heaved himself up, and searched for his pants.

Finch threw David’s jeans at him, and answered, “I need to speak with you, but I’m not doing it in here with that naked girl.” He pointed aggressively. “Get dressed and meet me outside,” he barked.

Finch waited outside, pacing. He could hear David moving around inside the tent, searching for his things. The girl muttered something, her high-pitched voice made her sound even younger than she looked, and when she uttered, “Come back to bed, Davey,” Finch felt the strong urge to throw up.

David exited the tent, wearing jeans, a faded black t-shirt and a pair of scuffed up boots. Looking at him, Finch could see the resemblance – the same brown eyes and dimpled chin. But David was showing signs of wear and tear – salt and peppered hair and lines around his eyes and on his forehead. The stubble on his face was almost all white.

“You robbing cradles now?” Finch said with disgust.

“She’s your age,” he said, which wasn’t much of a defense in Finch’s eyes. “Is it your birthday or something?”

“No, it’s not my birthday,” Finch said with irritation. “You think I’d come here to celebrate that occasion with you?”

“Probably not,” he answered. “So, what are you doing here?” He ran his fingers through his greasy hair and tried to offer a smile.

“I need something from you,” Finch said. He wasn’t going to do small talk with the man. There was no reason to. He didn’t care what the man had been up to, where he had been, or what he had going on in his life.

“Okay,” David said with a questioning tone.

“I’ve never asked you for anything. You know that, and I wouldn’t ask for this unless I really needed it.”

“What do you need, son?”

Finch held his hand up. “First off, you don’t get to call me ‘son,’ just like I’ll never call you ‘Dad.’ It seems a bit late for terms of endearment, doesn’t it?”

“If I’m giving you something I’d think I’d have the right to call you whatever I damn well please,” he said, and Finch shot him a look of disdain.

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t drive all the way here to fight with you. Just try not to be a dick for once.”

David grew quiet and softened his tone. “What do you want?”

“I won’t ever ask you for anything else in my entire life, and it kills me to ask you for this. But I need it, and what you’re gonna give me is something you should’ve given Mom all of those years she struggled to make ends meet. You give me this, maybe you can live with yourself for not being there,” Finch said.

“I know I’ve never been a father to you,” David started.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Finch interrupted. “I’m not here to hash up old painful memories. I need you to do this one thing for me and you won’t ever hear from me. Ever. I promise.”

***

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Doris asked Finch as he packed the last of his things into a duffle bag.

“I can’t stay here and work for a man like Kip. And this.... it’s just not in me anymore,” he said to her, zipping up the bag.

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “I think love has more to do with it,” she said.

His cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.

She hit him on the arm. “You love her,” she said, exaggerating the word “love.”

“Do you have enough money to pay off the bank?” Friedrich asked.