“I know what you mean,” I agreed, staring off.
“It meant a lot to hear you tell me you love me,” Mason said.
It was sudden and caught me off guard that he would bring it up. I sighed, leaning against the brick beside him.
“It might have been the best thing I ever heard. And I wouldn’t want to hear it from anyone else but you, Kendall.” He moved in front of me and took my hands in his.
“You’re the only girl I want to marry. To have kids with. The only girl I want to do any of that crazy shit with. You know what I mean?” He concentrated on our hands.
“Yes, I know what you mean. The idea of it,” I said. I knew just what he meant.
“I don’t know what it is, but I have always felt okay with you. You know how to pull me out of the dark spots and back into the light. Even when life sucks.” He moved in, closing the gap between us and kissed me softly.
I grabbed the back of his head pulling him closer, the taste of whiskey invading my senses.
We broke apart and I looked into his eyes. “Why, Mason, I feel the same way about your crazy ass,” I said with a smile. We kissed again.
“I’d never forget you no matter where I was,” he said, closing his eyes. He pressed his forehead against mine. I tried to force him to look at me, but he wouldn’t budge.
Everything was silent suddenly.
“Mason?” I asked as his body started to shake. I was confused until his tears hit my hands. He wiped them away with his fingers, holding my head hostage as he lost it, sobbing noisily. I stayed still and tried to pretend I wasn’t disturbed Mason was breaking down right in front of me. He never cried.
“I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to be better than my dad and mom. I was a little fucking kid. I wanted to be a race car driver,” he cried. His voice faltered, his nose was a running mess, and he sniffled every so often to deal with it.
“You are better, Mason. You know that. Please tell me that you know that,” I said from beneath all his tears. I was pinned in place trying to deal with Mason’s breakdown.
“Do you think I got a shot at heaven?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around him. He hugged me tightly, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“Since when are you worried about heaven? I don’t know anything about religion. I never went to church.”
“When we were in Jersey, I sat in bed every night thinking about the death penalty. I don’t think I could do it. What if all those people’s family come and wish me to hell?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, he just kept right on rambling.
“What if I die for all my mother’s wrongdoings? She’s probably sitting back laughing her ass off right now. I slept with people to get us to the next state. I shot people for her. I stabbed people. I set fires, lied, stole cars, beat up an old couple.” He cried harder, confessing his darkest secrets.
I wiped his face, breaking free finally. He took a couple of breaths, letting me clean him up.
“You are a good person. You are the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. And I want you to stop beating yourself up about any of this. There is nothing you can do. There was nothing you could do back then or now. No one hates you, Mason. And fuck them if they do,” I said, suddenly angry that he was so sad.
He sat down, his back against the brick, clutching the Jack Daniels, his legs sprawled out in front of him. “I’d never know what to be anyway, right?” he asked, taking a sip as he looked up at me.
I sat down next to him.
“Stop. I think we should get a motel and call it a day okay?”
“What do you think is better?” he asked, ignoring me, downing the last of the bottle. He tossed it out in front of him where it shattered. “Jail or death?”
“Mason, please don’t do this,” I begged, bringing my hands to my ears. Now I was freaking out.
“Because right now, Kendall, I have yet to figure that one out. But I do know one thing.” He held up a shaky finger.
“What’s that?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“I know that I’ve always loved you.” He kissed me on the cheek, practically falling over.
JULY 23
RD
I SAT IN OUR BED at the Hotel 7. Yes, that was the name of the hotel. How original. It was nearing the evening and we had only left the room long enough to get another bottle of liquor for Mason’s sudden insatiable thirst for anything that could numb his anxiety and depression.
I knew he couldn’t handle it. At first I thought he was happy to be back. But it became obvious very quickly that Gusby reminded him of all that was bad in his life.
I tried to convince him to call Jay. I was sure he would send back the jet and get us out of Gusby, but Mason said no. He said the only way that would happen was if I left on the jet without him.
Mason kissed my bare shoulder. Soon we were lost in sex… passionate sex…nothing I’d ever felt between the two of us.
“One more time?” Mason asked, bringing me down on the bed gently. He kissed my neck and ran a hand through my hair.
The glow from the lamp made him look like a dream of sorts. He was drunk and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot as he stared down at me. He smiled, enjoying my state of undress. It was natural to be so exposed around Mason.
He touched me, tracing his fingers from between my breasts down to my navel.
“Yes, please,” I said with a coy smile. I kissed his lips, his tongue toyed with my bottom lip and then met up with mine. I pulled at his hair as he climbed on top of me. I could always be free with Mason, always. Everything between us was natural. We were perfect together.
He smiled down at me. I smiled back, closing my eyes at the feel of him so close and gentle. This was what making love was all about—another first.
We collapsed, falling back on the bed. I rubbed a tender spot on my lower back. I regretted letting him pin me against the wall as things went from gentle to out of control.
“You thirsty? I have whiskey,” Mason said, handing me the bottle.
I scrunched my nose and checked the time. Hours had passed quickly without either of us even noticing.
We’d been too busy humping like wild animals all day.
“I need water before I die of dehydration, and so do you. You can’t survive on booze,” I said, kissing his shoulder as he stared at the bottle in his hands.
“I think there’s water somewhere in here.” He laughed, shaking the whiskey around in the bottle.
I smiled at him and realized he was better looking than I’d ever given him credit for.
“There is not any water in that whiskey.” I sat up looking for my shirt.
“One more time?” he asked, touching my breast with his warm hands. He did his best to coax me back under the covers.
“Mason, have you lost your mind?” I asked. I was shocked by his relentless stamina.
“I don’t want to miss an opportunity to be with you,” Mason said. He planted a gentle kiss on my lips, giving up. “I’ll run to the store and get you some Gatorade and water. Maybe even a PowerBar. But when I get back, I want you naked and ready for round two.” He jumped into his pants.
“Try round four,” I corrected him, crawling under the covers alone.
Mason threw on his shirt. “The only place in Gusby that got a facelift was the bank. Pretty fancy for a bunch of hillbillies that hide their money in their mattresses, right?” He stared off, lost in thought.
“Mason, you’re a nut. Now go get me some water please,” I said, shooing him away.
“Yeah, sure. I love you,” he said. The words came out so naturally, as if he’d been saying it all his life.