Ride to Redemption (19 page)

Chapter
31

M
aking
my way to the room, I found Candi dressed, applying the last of her makeup.

“What
are you doing up so early?” I quizzed, realizing this was not her norm.

Pouting
her lips, Candi said, “I couldn’t sleep after you left. I got up, took a bath
and I’ve been getting ready, while waiting on you to get back.”

Josie
had an amazing breakfast prepared for Candi and I, featuring her specialty,
smoked salmon, poached and scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, whipped orange juice
and homemade pastries.

“D,
these are the most beautiful place settings I’ve ever seen at a B&B,”
exclaimed Candi. “Josie is using fine bone china and Waterford crystal water
and juice glasses. It’s just like Christmas at home. Mom never brings out the
good china, except on holidays.”

“That’s
nice, baby. I’ll try not to break one.”

“You’re
a true man, D; by the way you don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

“I
appreciate you, Miss Candi, all of you, to be exact. In me, on me, around me,
on top, on bottom, on a bike or in a boat, I truly appreciate all of you.”

“Sex
is never far from your mind, is it, D?”

“Nope.
I’m just living up to what you just said — a true man-slut. That is a
compliment, isn’t it?”

“Yep
… Nope … Kinda.”

“Changing
the subject, I heard from your cousin Gio, twice. Best I can tell, he’s in
Calgary somewhere. Bet he beats us to Banff, if we don’t get on the road
straight away.”

“But,”
asked Candi in a disappointed voice, “don’t we have time for dessert?”

“Not
this morning Candi, I’m sorry. I’ve just had an intense conversation with Vic
and I’m just not feeling it, right now.”

“What’s
going on now, D? What did Victoria, the other slut, tell you that has you so
upset?”

“Oh
someone I met and helped out on the road to Sioux City has threatened in the
news to hang me out to dry. I don’t know what it is, but I sure can pick ’em,”
while staring directly into her beautiful brown eyes, “present company
included.”

Feeling
very uncomfortable right now, Candi began, as tears cascaded down her cheeks
“I’ve confessed my sins, D. I don’t know what more I can do, just tell me and I
will do it.”

Silence
erupted, as I put my head in my hands and ran my fingers back through my hair.

“I
wish I knew, Candi. I’m trying, I really am. And now this, being blindsided by
Frank, a guy I barely know. I question my ability to trust anyone, anymore.”

“Just
what is this Frank threatening to do to you, D?”

“Vic
said, he would out me to the highest bidder.”

“How
does he know who you are? What if we can find him first? I can make a call, you
know. Just give the word, and I’ll pull the trigger so to speak.” Looking at
the white in my eyes, Candi immediately retracted her last statement. “Bad
choice of words, D. Let me rephrase that. I’ll have someone apply enough
pressure to make him think twice about threatening you.”

“Stop
it, Candi. This is my mess to clean up, not yours, nor your families. That is
not how I do things. I am not going to start now. Moreover, to answer your
first question, he does not know who I am, as best I can remember, but stranger
things have happened. Vic is going to delve into it and see what shakes out.
Until then, I guess we continue the ride.”

Josie
returned, as jovial as ever, bouncing into the breakfast room with box lunches
in hand.

“Thanks
again for your hospitality, Ms. Josie,” acknowledged Candi. “We’ve had a
wonderful stay. All that was lacking was dessert,” looking intently my way.

“Dessert,
I can bring you dessert,” plied Josie. “Just wait right here.”

“Never
mind, Josie, Candi was addressing me when she said that. You’ve been wonderful,
as usual.”

“D,
I’m still trying to place you. You look so familiar. It’s your eyes. I remember
your eyes. When were you here?”

“It’s
not important, really. Best to let sleeping dogs lie. I’ll be back soon enough.
We’ll talk then,” I concluded, as I gave her a hug goodbye.

Chapter
32

W
alking
to the bike, Candi mocked Josie’s previous words. “It’s your eyes, I remember
you, because of your eyes. I bet you slept with her, Mr. Slut. You’ve slept
with so many women you can’t even remember their names.”

“That
would be quite an accomplishment, if it were true. And I do remember their
names, most of them anyway,” I answered, while wondering if she really believes
what she’s saying. I don’t blame her, I guess.

Calgary
is a beautiful city, home to the World Famous Calgary Stampede held every July.
This rodeo event, ongoing since the late 1800’s lasts over 10 days and brings a
million plus people here from all over the world. Thankfully, it was last month
or it would have added four plus hours to our one and a half hour drive to
Banff.

“Hey,
baby,” I spoke loudly over the engines rumble. “We’ve got some time to kill
this morning. Is there anything you’d like to do or see here before we leave?”

“D,
you’ve been here before. You tell me. Just what would I like to see or do,
besides the obvious that you’ve shot down big time already this morning.”

“Are
we horny? I thought it was just men that got uptight and out of sight when they
didn’t get laid....... as needed.”

Tapping
me firmly on the shoulder, Candi shouted. “Pull over, Jon David.” By the tone
of her voice, she was not kidding, so I pulled into the first parking lot I
came to.

“Get
my BOA out of your pack. If you’re not going to jump my bones and satisfy me,
I’ll do it myself.”

“Dang,
Candi, did you wake up with my morning erection or did Josie put Spanish fly in
your OJ at breakfast?”

“Neither.
I was dreaming this morning of making love to you by those waterfalls we hiked
to in Glacier. I woke up dripping wet, and rolled over to finish with you what
my dream had started. You were gone, as usual. I am not a morning person, as
you know by now. But today I was. That Jon David is why I am very frustrated
right now. Can you tell?”

“Loud
and clear, baby. Loud and clear,” I confirmed, while my mind came to life in
the hope that we could bring a happy ending to her unrequited dream, in real
time.

Off
the bike, and into my pack, I handed Candi her ‘toy.’ “You can use that by
yourself to your heart’s content, or if you can give me about thirty minutes,
I’ll be glad to assist you in your quest, beside a mountain stream, no less.”

“The
romantic poet speaks,” exclaimed Candi, throwing her hands into the air. “I’ve
got a better idea. I’ll get me started. If you can find a romantic place to
take my matters into your own hands before I’m done, great. Otherwise, if and
when you hear me screaming over the engines roar, keep driving.”

Now
that we’ve settled that, I made my way down Route 216, before turning west onto
Hwy.1A. I remembered this route as a great bike road, filled with twists and
turns, and miles of breathtaking scenery.

Making
our way through the town of Cochrane, I noticed a cut off, called Star Ranch
Road that meandered alongside the Bow River for quite a few miles according to
my GPS. Although it was gravel, the road was hardpan, like most of the roads in
Canada. As long as they’re dry, they're manageable on a bike, but if they’re
wet, you can forget it.

Realizing,
even with the engines roar, I hadn’t heard Candi scream, I made the left, and
took the cut off to find running water, and or a cascading waterfall to make
her early morning dream a reality.

Ten
minutes into the bumpy, graveled ride with not a soul in sight, I passed a
small cemetery, overlooking the river below. And it had 3 pristine, picnic
tables off to the side, nestled under an enormous, shade tree.

Slowing
down to a crawl, I asked, “Candi do you have any aversion to making love among
the tombstones?”

“You’re
kidding right?” asked Candi, followed by, “you’re not kidding, I can tell. I
bet you’ve done this before. SLUT!”

“A
few times,” I hesitantly confessed. “So far, to the best of my knowledge, it’s
never really bothered anyone, living or dead.”

“Hey,
if you’re game, I’m in,” stated my semi reluctant rider, whose hands suddenly
appeared on my crotch, groping their way around my flaccid, but rising star.
Just what else should I call it? (I mean, fortunately it rises pretty
regularly, just like the stars do. Jeez.)

I
made a walking U-turn and drove down the lush green lane to the wooden, picnic
tables, nestled off to the right of the graves.

“What,
you’re not going to do me on a tombstone?” asked a seemingly disappointed
Candi.

“No,
baby, a picnic table. Unzip your chaps, drop your pants and sit up on the table
facing the lake. Iowa cornfield attire if you please. Here wrap my jacket
around your waist to shield any potential wandering eyes.”

“Hey,
where’s my BOA? Don’t forget my BOA.”

“Got
it,” I exclaimed, as I retrieved it from her back jean pocket. Sitting on the
bench facing her rather moist thong, my lips began to kiss the inside of her
thighs, while my hands roamed freely, across the rest of her body.

“What
no foreplay?”

“Baby,
you’ve had 30 minutes of that on your own. This is the main course,” I
continued, as my mouth made its way to the soft skin adorning each side of her
sweet spot.

“Oh,
that feels wonderful, baby. Don’t stop,” pleaded Candi, as her hands collapsed
on my ears.

Using
my tongue to push back her thong, my mouth welcomed the scent and taste of this
woman who was graciously providing the main entrée. My mind wandered…

On
a picnic table, in a cemetery, by a river, in Canada, Oh Canada … My Canada…

“Oh,
baby, I am thankful to be wrapped in this moment with you,” I conveyed between
breaths.

Candi,
enveloped, equally in this moment too, pulled her thong to the side with her
left hand, while her right hand pressed me into her, as deep as my face and my
labored breathing would allow. “There, right there, don’t move,” whereas I
immediately disobeyed her directive and proceeded to turn her BOA on high and
place it in, up and to the right of my tongue. Holding it in place for less
than a minute, while my lips and tongue did the rest, was all that was
necessary to take this fine specimen of a woman over the top.

Bucking,
pushing, twisting, turning, rocked Candi, followed by ‘outdoor’ moans and
screams. Ahh …her satisfaction reigned, finally.

“Thank
you! Thank you! Thank you!” Candi whispered repeatedly.

“You’re
welcome, baby. I’m glad you could hang on long enough for me to have my way
with you.”

“It’s
your turn, D. I want to return the favor.”

“It’s
not necessary. This one is all you.”

“But
I want to, D. For you.”

“We’re
good. I promise. My erection has come and gone through all this excitement of
yours. I’m happy that you’re happy,” I exclaimed.

“Can
we just sit here for a moment?” asked Candi, basking in her after glow.

“We
can sit here as long as you want. That is until you tell me you’re hungry,
which usually happens five to 10 minutes after we make love.”

“Shhh
… Don’t make fun of me right now. I love the way you make me feel. I love the
fact that you knew I was in dire need and took care of it, even when I know for
a fact you weren’t anywhere near in the mood.”

“Relationships,”
I began, “are all about give and take, Candi. If you’re not willing to give,
even when you know how important it is to your partner, and vice versa, the tie
that bound, suddenly frays. We’re not perfect, none of us. As long as we put
each other first, everything, and I mean everything, will turn out okay. I
could never convince, the former love of my life of that. Her excuse was the
children and work. Life got in the way of us. I was a ‘Big Boy.’ I just needed
to get over it. But I couldn’t get over it. God help me, I tried. Just imagine
the severe longing you felt his morning, multiplied times 10, where the only
relief you get was to take matters into your own hands. Or even, sadder than
that, into the hands of another, when you finally give up, knowing you can't
live on empty promises. It shouldn’t have ever come to that. But it did, to the
point, that after 25 thoroughly frustrating years, enough was enough.”

“I’m
sorry, D. I can’t speak as one who has had the responsibility of raising kids,
as well as juggling a career, while trying to be a wife and a lover. However, I
would think your children should have completed the both of you. I mean
together you made these precious kids. Your DNA blended together and created
life. That to me would be the ultimate relationship binder. Thriving together
as a couple, to nurture these sons into men, whereby, they can draw on the both
of you, to learn how to survive, and thrive.”

“Life
happens, Candi. We play the hands we’re dealt. Sometimes, you just have to toss
them back in and start again. It’s not easy to say I quit. It’s even harder to
admit you failed. As the French are so apt to say,
“Que Sera, Sera
,
whatever will be, will be.

“Can
we go now, Candi?” I asked, trying to move us further down the road, but more
importantly, turn off this sad, heart wrenching, all to real, conversation.

“Yes,
baby, we ride. Just let me put my jeans on. I’m not sure how liberal the
Canadian’s are here in Alberta, about a girl riding in nothing, but chaps and a
thong,” offered Candi, sporting a semi-wicked smile.

* * *

In
just under two hours, we pulled up beside the Fairmont Chateau, Lake Louise,
Alberta.

“I’m
speechless!” exclaimed Candi, while looking at the blue and green waters of
Lake Louise, just a stone’s throw from the hotel. “They have a spa, too! Pinch
me. I’m in heaven!”

“And
afternoon tea,” I announced, while holding an imaginary teacup with two fingers
and biting into an invisible crumpet. “We have two days here, compliments of
Giovanni. That is, if he makes it,” I chuckled, while looking around the
parking lot for their familiar bikes. Not yet.

Hand
in hand, we made our way to the front desk. I was pleasantly surprised to find
a room key waiting. Gio and Mile had managed to get there before us.They must
be out exploring, or shopping or both.

“Spa!”
begged Candi. “I want to book a massage, a manicure, and a pedicure, now.”

Tiffany,
our vivacious clerk who was not a day over twenty, happily obliged. “Miss,
please just pick one of these times from the schedule and I’ll make your
reservation.”

“Gladly.
I’ll take this one,” said Candi, pointing to an opening only 10 minutes away.
“What about you, D? What are you going to do while I’m gloriously indulging
myself?”

“I’ll
be gloriously indulging myself, too. Tiffany, if you please, point me to the
bar.”

“Gladly,
sir,” offered Tiffany. “The Lakeview Lounge is just down the hallway on the
right. If I might add, sir, the view from the bar is outstanding, our wait
staff is exceptional and our beer is glacier cold.” Looking directly into
Candi’s beautiful brown eyes, Tiffany continued, “Enjoy your spa miss. I can
assure you, your guy will be just fine.”

”Slut,”
whispered Candi into my ear as she kissed me on the cheek.

I
couldn’t help but laugh. Candi was forcefully staking her claim and wanted me
to damn well know it.

“Have
a good time,
miss,
” I teased Candi. “I’m off to find the bar, the
barmaids and the beer.”

One
hour and four Canadian Molson’s into my glorious indulgence, I looked up to see
Gio and Mile sauntering into the bar. After scanning the entire crowd, Mile
finally locked eyes with me and came running across the dance floor to give me
a hug.

“Missed
you, D,” expressed Mile, breaking out with a smile to die for. Glancing at Gio,
as he walked up ten-seconds behind her, she pointed to him and said, “He miss
you, too.”

“What?”
I began, while extending my hand to Gio. “No tour guides as good as me?”

“No,
D. We no look. You best. “

“Good
to see you guys, too,” I added. “Mile, Candice is in the spa,” I said and
pointed to my fingernails. “Gio, you tell her she can join Candi if she wants
to. Tell her to go find Tiffany at the front desk.”

By
Gio’s excited conversation in Italian, I could readily deduce what Mile wanted.
Gio threw up his hands, shook his head at me and followed Mile out the door
toward Tiffany.

I
ordered Gio two Molson’s and had them opened and waiting on his return.

He
looked at them and asked if one of them were mine. I explained. “I’m on number
four,” while holding up 4 fingers. “You have some catching up to do.”

“Si,”
Gio said, nodding,
then he drained the first bottle in one turn long swig. Starting on the second,
just as he turned this one up, I grabbed it and set it down on the table.
“Slowly, Gio. You can catch up with me, but slow-ly,” I said, as I dragged out
the word to make sure he understood that he didn’t have to drink all three
immediately.