The Country Duet(66)

“Like the view?” I crook up an eyebrow.

“Busted,” she sings out, smiling widely.

“If I have to jump, then you have to jump. Throw those shoes off, Gordon.”

Teale sticks out her tongue, but complies pulling off her shoes and grabbing one of Baker’s hands while I take the other. We swing her up and down as we walk. Her laughter is contagious, making me feel young and carefree at heart.

“Can you do twicks?” Baker asks, popping a hand on her hip, making her tutu flare up with attitude.

“Sure can. Stand back, ladies.” I take my first bounce on the trampoline.

It’s been years since I’ve spent time on a trampoline. Back in my childhood days, I spent hours on ours with Burton. We graduated from playing crack the egg, back flips, then eventually nudging the tramp near the house when my parents were gone. It was our own version of Jackass. We’d run and jump off the roof, eventually doing front and back flips.

After a few bounces, I find my bearings, building up enough courage to flow into a front flip. I end up landing on my ass, gaining me cheers and giggles from the crowd of girls watching me.

“Again,” Baker squeals.

On my fifth try, I finally nail a front flip. The small crowd goes wild, and I throw my hands up in the air like a gold medal gymnast.

“Your turn, little girl.” I grab Baker’s hand.

Her eyes go wide and wild with fear. I notice her arms trembling, then tears welling up in her eyes.

I drop to my knees, making the trampoline bounce underneath us. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Her chin trembles, breaking my damn heart.

“You don’t have to jump with me if you don’t want to.” I tuck a stray auburn curl behind her ear.

“I, I…uh’s can’t go high like you.” She drops her head. “I’m scared.”

“Do you trust me?”

That simple question takes me back months ago when I asked the same question to her mother.

Her little head bobs up and down slowly. I pick her up, holding her tight to my chest.

“Pick a code word,” I tell her.

Baker stares at me in confusion, then pipes up and says, “Fish sticks.”

I have to bite back my laughter at her choice of safe word. “Okay, when I get going too high you just say fish sticks, and I’ll stop bouncing. How does that sound?”

“I guess okay.” Trepidation and fear coats each word that tumbles from her mouth.

I begin bouncing, not letting my feet leave the trampoline. After a few minutes and when Baker’s death grip loosens around my neck, I start gaining a bit more air. Again, her little arms tighten around my neck, but she soon grows comfortable. We repeat this process over and over until I’m jumping as high as possible. Her giddy screams fuel me on.

Teale watches from the sideline, taking pictures every once in a while. I don’t give her long before I stop bouncing then reach my hand out to her. She places hers in mine without a second thought.

“Jump, Momma, jump.” Baker clasps her arms together around my neck.

Both of us begin jumping up and down. I watch her bounce and then skyrocket Teale up in the air. She screams in surprise then falls down on her ass.

“Momma,” Baker’s concerned voice streams through the gym.

I set her down on her feet, and she immediately leaps into her Mom’s arms.

“Are you okay?” She brushes her Mom’s hair back from her face.

“I’m all right.” Teale gets out between giggles. “It’s a trampoline, sweetie, if you fall, it’s soft.”

“It is?”

“Yes, you know this,” Teale reassures her. “You had one at Jerico’s house.”

“But it was different and he never really let me jump.” Baker’s face saddens.

“You get to jump here whenever you want.”

I’m pissed. Jerico looked like a smug motherfucker and treated little Baker like a little soldier. The brief encounter in the shop screamed that fact. I’d just thought at the moment that Baker was excited to see her Momma, but I’m slowly learning there are so many layers to the story.

“Okay, your turn, Baker.” I grab her hand and lightly start to bounce.

It doesn't take any time at all before she drops my hand and is jumping all on her own. Teale and I both sneak off the trampoline, letting her friends join her. All their poofy tutu skirts flow up and down with each jump. Their glitter tights are shimmering with the gym lights.

“Thank you,” Teale whispers while still staring forward.

“No, Teale, thank you.” I reach over and lace my fingers in hers.

“We need to talk,” she says, not making eye contact.

“Okay,” I agree.

“Dad said he’d take Baker tonight for a few hours after her party.” She finally turns to me. “Would that be okay?”

I nod. “I went out to Dave’s this morning, so I’m free the rest of the night.”

“It’s not a pretty story.” She winces at her own words.

“But it looks like the ending is beautiful.” I smile down at her, wanting nothing more than to kiss the hell out of her.

Just the mere connection of our hands holding each other is making me crazy. It's driving in all the old memories with a torrid force, making me feel everything I’ve kept bottled up for her. I’ve always known she is the ending to my story. I just hope like hell that belief holds true.