Chapter 21 #2
The pier was much busier than it seemed from Jesse’s vantage point on the beach.
Even with several of the stands and rides closed down from disuse, it was still loud and full of life.
Children were gathered around a clown blowing bubbles bigger than balloons that blew away faster than they could ever hope to catch.
Groups of friends filled benches to the point of overflowing as they talked and laughed.
Cal and Monty had their sunglasses on, which helped to disguise them only a little from the crowd.
But it seemed that their efforts were largely unnecessary as everyone around them was otherwise entertained.
An older couple strolled by holding hands, the man in a pork pie hat and jacket with thick vertical stripes, the lady in a white dress and gloves with a lacy parasol over her shoulder.
Jesse followed them with his eyes until they’d disappeared into the throng.
He rubbed his palms along the seams of his damp shorts, gaze sliding to his left where Cal was walking beside him.
It would take no effort at all to reach out and twine their fingers together.
They’d already held hands a hundred times at least, mostly on set or helping each other off the floor after a particularly grueling dance rehearsal.
But to do it without prompt, without reason, seemed too ballsy for the current situation.
Cal was supposed to be having a relaxing day, not worrying about Jesse being bold and showing his co-star public affection when he hadn’t asked for it.
Jesse swallowed against the way his pulse was beating in his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Toward the end of the pier, Hilliard broke their two-by-two formation and linked his arm with Jesse’s, pulling him forward to finally see what dessert they were having: ice cream cones.
The line wasn’t very long and moved swiftly, leaving Jesse hardly any time at all to decide what flavor he wanted to try.
In the end, he decided chocolate was a safe choice.
Hilliard asked for a bright citrus sherbet and a cup of water for Henrietta, while Monty went for a scoop of rum raisin.
Cal chose plain vanilla and Monty called him a fuddy-duddy.
They found an open table with a nice view and claimed it for themselves. Hilliard inspected the bench seat warily, worried about the fate of his white shorts. Monty offered his lap as an alternative.
“Montgomery,” Hilliard hissed, though it was said through a smile.
Jesse sat sideways on the bench so he could still look out at the water without ignoring the group. His stomach fluttered when Cal decided to sit beside him.
“Did you make the right choice?” Cal asked, raising a brow at Jesse’s cone that was already beginning to melt.
“I haven’t tried it yet,” Jesse said, turning it this way and that to find the best place to start.
When he realized that Cal was still watching, he blushed something fierce and turned away so he didn’t have to slide his tongue or drag his lips over the scoop under the pressure of his co-star’s direct and undivided attention.
After one lick, Monty made a face at his own choice.
“Every time I tell you not to get the rum raisin, and every time you ignore me,” Hilliard said placidly.
Monty huffed. “I don’t understand. Ice cream with alcohol sounds exactly like something I would love.”
“But you hate raisins,” Hilliard pointed out. “I can’t even put them in my carrot cake because you always complain.”
“Let me try yours,” Monty said to him, finding a solution for himself.
“No,” Hilliard protested.
“Yes,” Monty demanded.
Hilliard turned away from him and took a big bite of his sherbet.
“Mmmh,” he gushed with his mouth still full, rolling his eyes back in ecstasy. “S’goood.”
Monty gaped at him and, after a brief, playful squabble, was awarded the citrus sherbet. Hilliard settled for the rum raisin with a very satisfied smirk. Jesse’s chocolate scoop was tasty, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the orange sherbet wasn’t that good.
On their return trip, they approached a building with more windows than walls. It was oddly shaped, almost like a castle in a storybook with just as many turrets and flags. The spectacle of what it was safeguarding revealed itself before they ever made it to the door.
A magnificent carousel spun counterclockwise in the center of the wide room, band organ blaring as forty-odd horses, a big-eyed frog, a prowling tiger, and two golden chariots made their way around and around.
Bright jewels and mirrors attached to each of the carved horses glinted as they caught the light, tails made of real horsehair swaying as they bobbed up and down.
Cal’s hand on his shoulder broke Jesse’s trance. He closed his mouth and offered an apologetic grin. The other half of their party remained outside with Henrietta as Cal gently urged him into the ride queue.
When it was their turn, Cal led Jesse around to what was arguably the most intricate of all the horses.
He appeared to be taller than all the rest, poised in a fanciful, prancing sort of way.
From the middle of his forehead sprouted a twisted gold horn.
Jesse made his way up into the saddle and held onto the pole through the horse’s back with both hands.
Beside him, Cal claimed the frog for himself, which was strangely one of the few animals that did not jump.
Their turn on the carousel only lasted three minutes at most, but for Jesse, time spun over a decade into the past. He held on to his magical steed and allowed the whirling colors and music to take him back to the boyhood he often missed, and to the one he never had.
For a moment, he forgot about the days filled with uncertainty after his parents had no choice but to send him to the city because they couldn’t afford to feed him and his younger siblings.
He forgot about sitting up on his boarding house cot, reading a permanently borrowed book instead of trying to sleep a while before working another fourteen-hour day delivering packages.
He forgot about the fear that his life would always be that—difficult and lonely.
As the ride came to a stop, it all came back.
Jesse didn’t realize he was crying until Cal was at his side, wiping at the wet trails on his cheeks with his thumbs.
To his credit, Cal didn’t ask Jesse if he was all right, or what was wrong, or anything at all. He simply pulled Jesse into an embrace, holding the back of his head as Jesse buried his face in Cal’s chest and willed his tears away.
“Sorry,” he croaked when Cal let him go a few seconds later, his apologetic grin returning, only slightly more wobbly.
“Don’t be,” Cal told him softly.
He helped Jesse off his horse and walked him back out into the sunshine on the opposite side of the building from where they’d gone in, earning him a little more time to collect himself before they reunited with Monty and Hilliard.
* * *
Before long, they were back in the Cadillac driving north along the coast, closer to the mountains. Hilliard said he knew a more private beach where they could watch the sun go down.
The spot was stunning even without the promise of a sunset view.
Cal announced that he was taking Jesse and promptly started for a trail that was no more than a footpath cut down the side of a grassy embankment.
Jesse struggled to keep up until they reached the sand, where they both paused to remove their shoes and socks.
As the colors in the sky began to shift, they took their time walking along the edge of the water, occasionally getting caught in the roll of a wave settling across the sand with a smooth fizzing sound.
In the distance, sailboats had spread out over the water, their sails puffed with the same cooling breeze that was a welcome relief against Jesse’s sun-kissed cheeks and shoulders.
“Sorry about earlier,” Jesse said, his stomach tightening with embarrassment. Cal hadn’t said a word to him since.
“We all have things we don’t talk about.” Cal’s tone was the same as it had been before, careful and understanding. “It’s not my place to ask you to do it now just because you had to let some of it out.”
It was an invitation, Jesse realized. An offer to share, but only if he wanted to. He thought of Cal’s strong reaction to his hint of truth during their first dinner together at the Pink Peacock. But that’d been weeks ago, before they knew scarcely more than each other’s names.