Chapter Seven #2
“Come on, let’s hit the carnival section and ride the Ferris wheel,” he said, standing and offering his hand again.
A day for just the two of them. Making memories.
As the afternoon progressed, Kirk did his best to give her the best fair experience she’d ever have.
And she loved every moment. Laughter was the key word for the day.
He hadn’t had such fun since before he could remember.
During times waiting in line for a ride they talked a bit about their childhoods.
So different it was educational in one sense.
He still thought she had lacked the carefree days of childhood.
And twice she had wistfully told him how lucky he’d been.
When they passed the pitching concession, he offered to try to win her a teddy bear.
“You’re kidding?” she said, looking around him to see the stand. Three metal milk bottles stacked pyramid style sat on the back board. A direct hit in only one area would knock all three flying—qualifying for a bear.
He bought some balls. Several other couples stopped to watch, while Angelica stood a few feet away, so not to crowd him.
He threw the first ball which clipped the top bottle.
But it only swayed, staying on the other two.
His next ball missed completely and everyone laughed.
The third ball hit the bottle on the bottom left.
Again the bottles swayed, but remained upright.
“I’ll take another set of balls,” he said.
Now it was getting to crunch time. Several good-natured teasing comments were called. A guy he knew from Bryceville called an insult to his pitching ability—or apparent lack thereof.
“Don’t listen to them,” Angelica said. “You can do it.”
He’d done it before for Alice. He wanted to do it today for Angelica.
He threw it for all he was worth. It missed completely.
He looked at her and the faith showing in her gaze touched him as nothing had in a long while.
She didn’t know him, didn’t know what he could do, but he could read her confidence in him as if it had been tattooed on her forehead.
He threw the ball and the trio of bottles exploded apart, flying around the concession booth.
“Woohoo!” Angelica said, rushing over to throw her arms around him. “You did it! I knew you could.”
The crowd clapped and began drifting away. Kirk’s friend called congratulations before moving on.
“Whoa, man, when you connect, you do it in style,” the concessioner said, looking at Angelica. “So what color bear do you want?” he asked.
“Pink, please, to match my hat,” she said looking over her shoulder.
Kirk liked the feel of her in his arms. Giving her a hug, he slowly released her so she could take the big pink teddy bear. Grinning, she looked at him.
“Thank you, no one has ever won a teddy bear for me before.”
“My pleasure.”
The feel of her soft body against his felt imprinted. She walked along beside him and all he could think of was to find a place to pull her back into his arms to kiss her.
Twilight was fading into darkness when Kirk drove into the driveway of Webb Francis’s home. Angelica held the bear with one arm, the other encircling him as the motorcycle rode through the quiet evening. Her hat had been squashed between them so it wouldn’t blow away.
“That was the best day ever,” she said when they stopped.
Slowly she withdrew her hand when he turned to help her off the bike. He scooped up her pink hat and pushed it back into shape while she removed the helmet.
He took it, the bike still rumbling.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning over to kiss him.
He pulled her closer, relishing the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. The kiss was awkward with him still straddling the bike, but he wouldn’t have changed a second of it.
When she straightened, he released her. He tried to gauge her expression in the dim light but it was impossible.
All he could see was wide eyes and a stunned expression.
“I’ll see you in,” he said.
“Not necessary. It’s only a few steps. Thanks again. I had a fabulous time.”
She seemed to run away. He watched until she was inside and the light went on in the kitchen. He was hot after that kiss. And she’d participated as much as he did. Yet she’d skittered away like a fawn startled beyond expectations.
He frowned, studying the dark door. Putting together all she’d said about her past, was it possible in this day and age she had never had a serious relationship with a guy? No, that’d be impossible. She was too pretty, too talented.
She lived in New York City, for heaven’s sake.
Slowly he backed the bike until he could turn around. Driving the short distance to his driveway, he tried to argue the situation, but the more he thought about it, the more he grew certain she was a novice in the dating scene.
“Oh, no,” he groaned when he shut down the bike and propped it on its stand. That would change everything.
Surprisingly, he’d had a fabulous day, too.
Which raised red flags all over the place.
He could not fall for the pretty violinist from New York. She was leaving, as all the women in his life had left. At least he knew ahead of time that this relationship had no future. He hoped he was wise enough to guard his heart or he’d be head over heels before he knew it.
His family had bad luck when it came to women. Did the men choose unwisely? Or were circumstances stacked against them?
He went to get a cold drink, then headed to the studio. Restless, too keyed up to sleep, he wanted to escape his thoughts. He needed to focus on the carving and not the unattainable woman next door. She’d be gone soon. He just had to wait her out.
Angelica was about to turn off the light and head upstairs to read before bed when the phone rang. It was Professor Simmons.
“Sorry to be calling so late. I’ve tried several times during the day. How are you doing there?” he asked.
“I’m having a great time. Sorry I wasn’t here when you called. Actually, I was at a county fair.” She smiled, remembering the many ways of entertainment she’d seen that day.
“Well, that sounds different.”
“It was so much fun. We rode carnival rides like kids. The man who took me won me a teddy bear, and we ate so much I might not eat again for a week. Did you know cotton candy just melts in your mouth?”
“Ah, don’t believe I’ve ever had cotton candy.”
She shook her head. This was one of her former professors. Serious, focused. She must sound like an idiot to him.
“Are you doing okay there on your own? I didn’t know Webb Francis was sick when I suggested you look him up,” Professor Simmons continued.
“I’m doing better than fine. He’s letting me stay here in his place. Well, you had to know that or you wouldn’t have called here. He has a fantastic collection of folk music. And I’m even teaching two young kids how to play the fiddle.”
“The fiddle?” he repeated.
She laughed.
“I’m getting used to calling it that. Everyone looks a bit blank when I call it a violin. I’m able to pick up a lot of the songs merely by listening. And Webb Francis has a ton of sheet music.”
“You have a rare gift of hearing and playing without music. So are you glad you went?”
“Oh, I love it here. We listened to different musical groups at the fair. There’ll be even more at the music festival, I understand.
That’s at the end of August. It’s amazing to watch the people really get into the music, clapping, sometimes singing along.
I wouldn’t have missed this opportunity for anything. Thank you for your recommendation.”
“I’m pleased it’s turning out well. Actually, I called because your parents called me two days ago wanting to know if I had the phone number of the place you were staying, as your cell wasn’t working.
I said there was no cell service I knew of in Smoky Hollow.
From the questions that followed, I realized you hadn’t told them where you were going.
I hope I didn’t mess things up telling them where you were. ”
“Oops. Sorry, Professor Simmons. This vacation was supposed to be a break from everything, not just the symphony.”
“You might give them a call. They sounded worried.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I didn’t mean to put you in the middle of anything.”
“Sometimes families exert pressures that are not fully realized at the time. I know they were strongly supportive of your music when you were a student here.”
“Maybe too much. I’m grown up now. I can make my own decisions. Did you ever consider delving more into folk music?”
“I have on occasion. Teaching that course gives me an outlet that combines my love for it with other duties at the school. I have spent several summers in Smoky Hollow with Webb Francis. He has a rare talent himself. And knows more about that kind of music than anyone. You’ll have a good teacher, once he’s well again. ”
“Did you ever go to the music festival the end of August?”
“Of course. You’ll not want to miss that. There will be jug bands, dulcimers and real old-fashioned mountain folk music. Great songs handed down from the first settlers. Call me when you return to New York. You can tell me all about your experiences in Kentucky.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks for everything, Professor.”
She hung up feeling guilty that she had put him in an awkward position. But she’d never expected her parents to call him to find out where she was. Had they called everyone she knew until they reached him? Couldn’t they give her a few weeks on her own?
Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and dialed home. The phone rang until the answering machine picked up.
“Hi Mom, it’s Angelica. I, um, was just calling to say hi. I’ll call back.”