53. THE ONE-EYED DONKEY NAMED KRITTER
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
THE ONE-EYED DONKEY NAMED KRITTER
Comment: As if he could get any hotter! Look at that pouty lip
Comment: Girl I hope you know how lucky you are MY GOD
Comment: Awww, poor guy, I’ll kiss it better
I would relive last night and the early hours of this morning with Joey like Groundhog’s Day, staying up until the sun peeked through the clouds and we felt like teenagers afraid to get in trouble for never going to bed.
We did eventually fall asleep for a few hours, but that was after we filmed, Joey whooped my ass in Mario Kart—twice—found a photo album full of family pictures, watched three episodes of Friends, debated over me being Chandler or Joey, and then raided the cabinets for food.
We never made it to an actual bed, because my mom spent a heinous amount of money on a couch with moveable pieces, justifying her purchase by saying, “one day you’ll understand what it’s like to be warm and cozy next to a fire on an uncomfortable couch, and you’ll thank me for it.”
I’m not sure this was how she expected to be right, but I would drain my bank account to witness Joey’s sleepy face as she drifted off, cuddled against my side.
Enzo busts in this morning earlier than I’d hoped, whacking a pillow upside my head as a way of good morning.
“Rise and shine.” He’s much nicer to Joey, who squints with one eye against the morning sun shining through the large windows on the back wall, reflecting off the lake.
“Good morning. Sorry to wake you like this. I figured you’d prefer I see you naked over West’s parents.
I’m shocked to find you both fully clothed. ”
Joey sits up and stretches her arms over her head, flipping him off.
My parents show up with breakfast sandwiches and freshly brewed coffee about half an hour later.
I grab my favorite energy drink from the fridge, and before it’s even open, my mom’s scolding me.
“West, those are terrible for you.” I earn a stern look from her by letting out a long, exaggerated sharp exhale of satisfaction after my first sip.
“My smartass son told me you’re vegetarian, but I wasn’t sure if you ate eggs or not, so there’s a cheese and vegetable option in there.
Either way, you’ll be happy to know the eggs are from our very spoiled chickens at home. ”
They talk about all the animals Mom’s collected over the years while everyone eats. Dad steps out to take a call, giving my mom the opportunity to gush over Grim without ruining a long-running white lie. I match Joey’s grin when they get to pictures of Kritter, our one-eyed donkey.
Dude’s almost thirty still giving Mom’s horses a hard time.
Joey learns all about the family business, and how she’s been training horses since she was a kid because of her great-grandparents and the breeding empire they started. “I saved everyone a lot of money when I married an equine veterinarian,” Mom says when Dad returns.
I never took a single interest in horses beyond the occasional trail ride. It had always been more of Micah’s thing, while I spent my time here at the lake house, especially during the winter when the lake froze over and everyone was out on the ice.
Kell and his family pop in next, followed by a few of my cousins. Everyone is enamored by Joey—not that I thought they wouldn’t be.
She excuses herself around noon to get ready and comes out less than an hour later in my favorite pair of jeans ever made.
They fit her like a second skin, exposing the tattoos around her knees.
It’s her turn to wear a crop top, but this one’s fitted against her body with enough of a V-cut to get a tease of her perky tits in a pushup bra.
Her hair falls down her back in her usual loose waves, and she chose makeup that draws attention to her frosty eyes.
I literally have to swallow the drool pooling in my mouth whenever I catch myself staring. Every single time I look her way during sound check, I lose track of what I’m doing. How the fuck can one woman be so gorgeous? And does she know what her wicked little smirk does to me?
I’m fucking done, boys! Go on without me!
I’m exactly where I want to be.
There’s no opening act tonight—just me and the audience for an hour. The theater’s buzzing with an excited hum of noise five minutes before showtime, and I’ve got a stomach full of nerves I haven’t felt in ages.
“Last one,” Enzo says, joining me as I stare at the people I can see from the wing. He squeezes my shoulder before crossing his arms over his chest.
“Last one,” I echo, nodding my head.
I can’t believe it’s almost over. I’m hanging on to every last second.
I’m ready for a break—the last three months of my life have been some of the longest, but I would do it all over again starting tomorrow if it meant I got more time with Joey.
Two months wasn’t enough. A fucking lifetime wouldn’t be enough.
“I’m proud of you.” It’s not often Enzo gets sappy. He’s usually a man of few emotions, but he knows he needs to give me something every once in a while or I’ll worry he hates me.
“I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” Or Kell, or Joey—not in this capacity. “Thank you. Not just for this tour, but for everything.” I don’t want to know the person I would have become if it weren’t for Enzo. “You’re my brother, blood or not.”
The theater lights flicker, alerting people to their seats.
“As your brother, I feel the need to say this.” Enzo’s nearly impossible to read, which has my stomach twist in anticipation before he continues.
“Tell Joey how you feel. Not as the funny guy, but as the guy who doesn’t think he knows how to take care of people, yet remembers every important date for everyone but himself.
The same one who knows exactly what everyone likes to drink when we go out, or what our favorite song of the moment is.
” He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s the guy she loves anyway. ”
The stage manager interrupts, having no clue the conversation she’d walked into. “You ready, West?”
Ha-ha! No, I’m not fucking ready. Instead, I say, “yeah, one sec.” I give her a polite smile, shifting back to Enzo. “What do you mean by that?”
Enzo laughs.
I don’t.
“Really doesn’t need an explanation, mate. Everyone knows. You’ve been in love with Joey since Boston, and she fell in love with you somewhere around New York City, if I could guess.” He says it like he’s stating a well-known fact.
Roses are red. Violets are blue. Joey is in love with you.
He pats me on the back, feigning an innocence I don’t believe for a single second. “Break a leg.”
Someone from the theater is on stage, presumably introducing me, but all I hear is the teacher’s trumpety voice from Charlie Brown.
Womp, womp, womp.
“Wait, where is she?” I ask, fighting to zone in on my cue.
Enzo shrugs. “Sound booth, probably.”
“Help me in welcoming Traverse City’s own, West Parker!” The crowd roars, sounding like a lot more than a couple hundred people.
Fuck, shit. I’m not ready. I spin around to find a man on stage staring, clapping along with the crowd.
I’m going to kill Enzo.
I take a deep breath and shake my hands out. Last one. West Parker steps out on stage, and I do my best to forget the fact my best friend just told me the girl of my dreams is in love with me too.
I pop the mic off the stand, quickly thanking the speaker whose name I missed as he exits stage right. “Wow, Traverse City.” Palming the unopened water bottle left on the stool, I crack it open and take a much-needed sip. “I’m getting hot just looking at you.”
Lies. I’m getting hot scanning the crowd for a woman I can’t find. From my current position on stage, I can only see pieces of the front row.
“Now, listen. My mom’s here tonight, so I gotta ask everyone to be on their best behavior.” I wrap the mic cord around my wrist, sitting the water bottle on the floor between the stool’s legs. “Do you think you can do that for me?”
There’s a mixture of no’s yelled at me from all directions of the theater.
I shrug my shoulders. “Okay, fine. Then let’s get a little nasty.
” I take a step away from the stool and move the mic stand out of my way, standing center stage.
“Mom.” I pause, scanning the crowd from my new position.
I find her by the excited screams of my family around her.
Joey’s not in the row with them, but there’s an empty seat closest to the inside wall near the aisle.
“Sorry for what you’re about to witness. ”
The crowd's laughter turns to cheers of approval when I reach up and flip my hat backwards. “None of it’s true, and never have I ever,” I pause, holding five fingers up.
“Slept with a woman who’s twenty years older than me.
” None of my fingers go down, and I bite my lip like I’m holding in a secret.
I turn the mic away from my family and whisper, “her birthday was the day after, so it counts as nineteen years.”
My mom’s been to my shows, and yeah, it’s pretty much as awkward as it sounds… but the best way to overcome that is to incorporate it back into my crowd work.
Multiple times throughout the night, I tell Mom to plug her ears and cover her eyes.
By the time I’m five minutes out from the end of my set, I’ve got this sense of unease forming in the pit of my stomach when I still haven’t spotted Joey.
Her seat next to my parents is empty the entire show, but no one in their section seems worried.
I hang onto that detail while I begin wrapping up.
“Traverse City, when I got the bright idea to plan this three-month tour, I knew there was only one place I wanted to end it.” I’ve only been home once since I moved to London, but ending my first U.S.
tour anywhere outside of my hometown didn’t feel right.
“This tour has changed my life in more ways than one.” Scanning the audience again, I don’t notice an extra person in the sound booth, and she’s not lurking in her usual hiding spots.
“But I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family.
So, if you don’t mind.” I swing my arm to the section where nearly thirty of my family members stand and cheer.
“Mom and Dad, for letting me believe I could be anything, and somehow not laughing in my face when I called and said I wanted to be a stand-up comedian.”
I let them get the applause they deserve before moving on. “Enzo and Kell.” I turn to see if they’re in the wings, only to be met with the crew. It’s not often that none of them are standing side stage during my performances. What the fuck is going on?
The uneasy feeling comes back worse than before, but I’m still on stage and need to hold it together.
I smile, continuing. “For being the best friends and honorary brothers a guy could ask for. I would have floundered way before this tour if it weren’t for the both of you.
” I move on, thanking the fans, giving them time to hoot and holler for themselves.
“And last but certainly not least, Hex, wherever she’s hidden herself tonight…
” The room grows quiet, waiting to hear what I have to say about the girl I’ve been pretending to date for two months.
It might have been for show, but nothing with Joey has felt fake.
“For seeing the real me when I couldn’t.
” Everyone stays quiet, hanging onto my last word like I might say something else, but there’s nothing more to say to a room of almost-complete strangers.
I love Joey, but I won’t tell the world before I tell her—regardless of what everyone thinks they already know.
“Traverse City, thank you. I love you. Happy Thanksgiving, and tonight, on Blackout Wednesday, I cannot stress this last part enough. Buckle up, don’t drink and drive, and tell your mom I said hi. Goodnight!”
I return the mic to its stand and take my final bow. The entire room cheers until the stage feels like it’s vibrating under my shoes.
That’s a wrap on The Mid-West: Because You Could Do Better Tour.