Kiss an Angel(121)

“What strikes?”

“I lost my mother, and I’m the product of a broken home. That, plus what I see going on right now with the two most influential adults in my life, makes me more likely to have a teenage pregnancy.”

Her dad’s eyebrows shot up practically to his hairline, and she seriously thought he was going to pee his pants. Even though she wasn’t afraid of him like she used to be, she wasn’t stupid, either. “Got to go. See you guys later.”

She slammed out of the trailer.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Settle down,” Sheba said. “She’s just trying to make a point.”

“What point?”

“That the two of us should get married.” Sheba plopped a dab of taco meat in her mouth. “Which just goes to show how much she knows about the real world.”

“You got that right.”

“She still hasn’t figured out how incompatible we are.”

“Except in there.” He jerked his head toward the bedroom in the rear.

“Yeah, well . . .” A foxy smile came over her face. “You peasant boys do have your uses.”

“Damn right we do.” He drew her into his arms, and she snuggled against him. He started kissing her, but then he drew back because both of them had things to do, and once they got started with each other, they had a hard time stopping.

He saw that her eyes looked troubled. “The season’s almost over,” she said. “A couple of weeks and we’ll be in Tampa.”

“We’ll still see each other this winter.”

“Who says I want to see you?”

She was lying, and both of them knew it. They’d become important to each other, and now he had the feeling she wanted something from him that he couldn’t give.

He buried his lips in her hair. “Sheba, I care about you. I guess I even love you. But I can’t marry you. I got my pride, and you’re always stomping over it.”

She stiffened and drew away, shooting sparks at him and acting like he was some kind of cockroach. “I don’t think anybody asked you to get married.”

He wasn’t good with words, but there was something he’d been trying to say to her for a long time, something important. “I’d like to marry you. But it’d just be too hard being married to someone who’s putting me down all the time.”

“What are you talking about? You put me down, too.”

“Yeah, but I don’t mean it, and you do. There’s a big difference. You really think you’re better than everybody else. You think you’re perfect.”

“I never said that.”

“Then name something that’s wrong with you.”

“I can’t fly like I used to.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about something inside you that’s not as good as it should be. Everybody has things like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head sadly. “I know you don’t, babe. And until you figure it out, there’s not much hope for us.”

He let her go, but before he made it all the way to the door, she started yelling. “You don’t know anything! Just because I’m tough doesn’t mean I’m not a good person. I am, damn it! I’m a good person!”

“You’re also a snob,” he said, turning back. “Most of the time you don’t think about anybody’s feelings but your own. You hurt other people. You’re obsessed with the past, and you’re the most stuck-up person I ever knew.”

For a moment she stood there stunned, but then she started to scream. “Liar! I’m a good person! I am!”

“Keep saying it, babe, and maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

Her cry of fury sent a chill down his spine. He knew she’d fight back, and he managed to make it out the door before the plate of tacos came crashing into it.



As Daisy roamed the lot that night, she found herself wishing she were still performing with Alex. At least it would have kept her busy. When he’d announced that she wasn’t going back into the ring with him, she’d felt neither relief nor disappointment. It simply made no difference. In the past six weeks she’d discovered a pain far more hurtful than any that could be inflicted by the whip.

She watched the crowd file out of the top. Weary children clung to their mother’s sides and fathers carried tired toddlers with candy-apple stains around their mouths. Not so long ago, the sight of those fathers had made her eyes fill with sentimental tears as she’d imagined Alex carrying their child. Now her eyes were dry. Along with everything else, she had lost the ability to cry.

Since the circus wasn’t moving on that night, the workers were free for the evening, and they set off for town in search of food and liquor. The lot fell quiet. While Alex tended Misha, she slipped into one of his old sweatshirts, then made her way through the sleeping elephants until she reached Tater. Kneeling down, she tucked herself between his front legs and let the baby elephant plop the end of his trunk on her knee.

She buried herself deeper in Alex’s sweatshirt. The soft fleece carried his scent, that particular combination of soap, sun, and leather that she would have recognized anywhere. Was everything she loved going to be taken from her?