Carousel Ride



  Carousel Ride

  by

  Jeffrey Anderson

  Copyright 2013 by Jeffrey Anderson

  This story is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Carousel Ride

  Zach pushed in the clutch and let the truck coast to a stop behind Becca’s car parked in the cul-de-sac on this side of her parents’ drive. He’d just turned off the key when the front door of the two-story brick colonial swung open and Becca came running across the walk and the brown grass and out into the road to his door. She opened it from the outside as he opened it from the inside and the combined effect caused him to all but fall into the road. Fortunately Becca was there waiting, and he tumbled out the door and into her open arms. She squeezed him tightly and kissed him all over his face and head and neck. He glanced up over her shoulder toward the house in early afternoon sun and wondered who might be looking out and what they might think about this demonstration. Then he reminded himself it was Becca’s family behind those windows; and this was Becca’s home, Becca’s street, Becca’s neighborhood. If she felt comfortable showering him with kisses in public in broad daylight, who was he to question her decision or react with caution? He hugged her back, lifting her off the pavement, and buried his face in her neck and blond hair.

  “I missed you so much,” she whispered into his ear after she’d kissed it four times.

  He laughed. “We’ve only been apart three days.”

  “About forty-two hundred minutes too long.”

  Zach tried to do the math but gave up and took her at her word. What did Einstein say about time being relative? Sometimes a few days—or forty-two hundred minutes—could seem an eternity. And then that eternal wait could disappear in an instant if the right person ran out the door and jumped into your arms—or you fell into hers. Zach had little doubt they were testing the relative meaning of time, and lots of other known precepts, with their blossoming love—rewriting the laws of the universe, or at least the limits of their domains. He considered that ponderous mission, then tossed it aside along with everything else as he melted into the smell of her skin, the brush of her hair, the touch of her lips.

  She broke free and grabbed his hand. “Come on. I want you to meet Dad.”

  Zach trailed behind her tugging arm. He’d follow Becca anywhere, had followed her into this very house several times already, met her sister Sarah and Sarah’s year-and-a-half old daughter Katie. But he’d not yet met her father, would just as soon have had a little more time to prepare for the introduction and dressed in something nicer than his old jeans and baggy sweatshirt. But, as with Becca’s enthusiastic greeting, this was her playing field, her rules, her call. He jogged to keep up with her running while struggling to straighten his hair and smooth his sweatshirt with his free hand.

  In the tall entry hall with its grand staircase and ornate moldings, Zach let go of Becca’s hand and took a moment to catch his breath and let his eyes adjust to the interior light after the bright sun. Avery College was in the midst of its winter break and Zach had driven to Greensboro at Becca’s invitation to spend this unusually warm afternoon in activities of her choosing. Her only indication of what they’d be doing was her suggestion that he dress for outdoor play. So he’d done exactly that, never considering the possibility that he might also meet her father for the first time.

  “Abba-ca-dabba!” a child’s voice cried from above.

  Zach, his eyes now mostly adjusted to the dimmer light, looked up the stairs to see Katie attired in a white taffeta gown with a tulle tutu and a gold barrette in her dark brown hair. She held a silver wand with a sequined gold star at its tip, and she pointed that wand directly at Zach while her mother Sarah held her other hand to steady her on the upper landing.

  “Abba-ca-dabba, Ack-ack,” Katie said as she twirled the wand in a tight circle, casting her spell down on her aunt’s guest.

  Zach clutched his heart and stumbled backward in a feigned swoon. He felt the wall against his back and slid gently downward to the hardwood floor, closed his eyes, and let his head and shoulders flop down onto his knees.

  “Aww, Katie,” Becca cried. “You cast a spell on poor Ack-ack.” She knelt down beside Zach. “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” she cried while wringing her hands.

  “Keep it G-rated, Bec,” Sarah said from above in stage whisper.

  Becca glanced up in mock indignation. “What could you be thinking?”

  “No tongue allowed. No zippers undone,” Sarah laughed as she slowly guided Katie down the stairs, holding her hand as the little girl took one careful step at a time.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Ack-ack sleep,” Katie said from the third step up.

  “Yes,” Sarah said, “Ack-ack sleep. You think you can help Aunty Bec bring him back to life?”

  Katie reached the bottom of the stairs and pulled her hand free from Sarah’s. She half-ran, half-stumbled across the entry foyer to his slumped body and raised her wand over his head. “Abba-ca-dabba.”

  Zach didn’t move.

  “Uh-oh, Katie. I think your wand is broken,” Sarah said.

  Katie looked at the wand with wide eyes.

  “Is there anything else we can try?” Becca asked.

  Katie paused a moment to consider the question then shuffled the last few steps to Zach’s body, bent at the waist, and daintily kissed the top of his head.

  Becca shrieked in laughter, in part because of Sarah’s shocked expression.

  And Zach slowly lifted his head, blinked his eyes repeatedly as one rousing from years of involuntary sleep, and opened his arms to the shining princess.

  Katie threw herself—wand and crown and gown and all—into Zach’s chest.

  He swallowed her small body into his long arms and oversized sweatshirt.

  Becca shook her head in a huff. “Never thought I’d have my boyfriend stolen by my niece.”

  Zach peeked at her over Katie’s head. “She did break the spell with a kiss.”

  Becca smiled and stood, then helped Zach to his feet as he continued to hold Katie, raising her up along with himself. He handed the fairy princess off to her mother.

  Sarah looked at Zach with a sly smile. “I don’t know who surprised me more—you or Katie?”

  Zach laughed. “My charms are all used up on your sister. Katie is just starting to discover hers.”

  “Lucky me,” Sarah said with more than a little sarcasm.

  “No, lucky me,” Becca said, no sarcasm in her claim, as she led Zach down the hall.

  The meeting with Donald Coles went well enough. He’d set his pipe and newspaper aside and rose from his chair in the den to greet Zach with a firm but not overpowering handshake and a welcoming smile. They exchanged small talk about Avery basketball, the unusual weather, and the fire he’d nursed to life and kept going despite the warm afternoon—“Got to have a fire on a Sunday afternoon in January.” Becca’d made a joke—“Even if it were 80 outside?” And Mr. Coles had replied simply but firmly—“It’s only in the 60s; but yes, Sprite, even if it were 80. Some traditions are more important than transitory conditions.” Becca’d rolled her eyes but made a point of kissing the top of his head from behind his chair before they left the room.

  Zach also met Becca’s mother, in the kitchen where she was putting away the remains of their Sunday dinner. “You should’ve come earlier, Zach. I would’ve set a place.”

  Zach glanced at Becca, who shrugged. Before these promising introductions, neither of them had been sure Zach was ready for the full-blown Coles family experience of Sunday dinner. But just now, it appeared it would’ve go
ne smoothly. Zach turned to Mrs. Coles. “Thank you for the thought, but I had other commitments earlier.” Those other commitments consisted of laboring on his novel, an endeavor he would’ve dropped in a minute if Becca had asked him to dinner. But it was all O.K.—he’d finished a scene in the novel, eaten a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, and didn’t have to bring along a change of clothes (let alone negotiate the awkwardness of changing in the ornate guest bath). And, most importantly, he was with Becca now—had her attentions all to himself.

  “We’ll have to have you over someday soon,” Mrs. Coles said with a level of sincerity that reached beyond politeness, reflected her understanding of Becca’s feelings and seriousness toward this newcomer.

  Zach nodded. “I’ll look forward to that.”

  Becca gave her mother a quick hug. “We’re going to The Park. Should be back around dark.”

  “Would Zach like a light supper?” Mrs. Coles asked.

  Becca looked at Zach with a neutral gaze. It wasn’t clear if she were entirely comfortable with her family’s red-carpet welcome of her boyfriend of just over a month.