It actually stung a little thinking about future dates. The sideshow never stayed anywhere for more than a week or two, and I knew for a fact that Gideon planned on pulling out of here next Sunday. Unless we saw each other every day—and I doubted that even the clingiest of suitors would plan for that—there would be no way we’d make it to five dates.
“I’m trying to bribe you,” Gabe said. “If you tolerate me for three more dates, you get to know a secret. That’s a heck of a deal, really.”
“But what if I don’t have a secret?” I asked.
“You do.”
“And what if you’re lying and you don’t have one either?”
The corner of his mouth was curled up slightly, but his eyes were serious. “I’m not.”
“Okay. It’s a deal,” I said, knowing I’d just agreed to something that would never happen anyway. The carnival would have closed up, and I’d be long gone before I ever heard his secret, or he ever found out about mine.
The ride came to a stop, and Gabe got off first. He took my hand, helping me down, and then, with our hands still linked together, we walked around the rides, but we didn’t go on any more. We talked, not about anything important, and he made me laugh.
It was the closest thing I’d ever had to a true date, the way I imagined dates would go. For a little while, I even forgot to worry about who might see Gabe and me together, and how they might react if they did.
That all came to an abrupt halt when we approached the shimmering tent where my mom worked. The curtain was tied open, meaning she didn’t have any clients, and though she couldn’t see us from where we stood, if we went any closer, she definitely would.
“Do you wanna get your fortune read?” Gabe asked, since I’d stopped short.
“Um, not tonight.” I let go of his hand and stepped away from him. “What time is it?”
He checked his neon-colored Swatch. “It’s nine thirty.”
“I should probably get going.” I offered him a rueful smile. “The acrobat show is over. I need to find my friends.”
“What’s the rush? Are you Cinderella?” Gabe asked. “Will you turn into a pumpkin at nine thirty-one?”
“No, it’s just later than I thought. That’s all.” I took a step back, moving away from my mom’s tent, but he stayed where he was, giving me a curious look.
“Okay. So can I call you?”
“Um, I’m kinda in between phones now.” Since I’d spent so much of my life on the road, I hadn’t had a real phone number in years.
He took a step toward me now. “What about our third date?”
“You still wanna do that?”
“You don’t?” Gabe asked, sounding surprised.
“I do,” I said. “When?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Okay,” I agreed, before even trying to decide whether I’d be busy or if that worked or not. “Where?”
“How about we meet here again? Since you don’t have a phone. Unless you want to give me your address—”
“Here’s great,” I replied quickly. “Does eight work for you?”
“Yeah. That’ll be great.” He nodded. “I had fun tonight.”
I smiled back at him, hoping I wasn’t beaming too much. “Me too.”
Before he could say any more, I turned and ran back toward the circus tent. When I was certain that I was far enough away that he couldn’t see me, I darted between the booths and headed back toward the campsite.
11. temperance
The midway and the rides stayed open until midnight, but the shows stopped at eleven. The carnival was really divided into two parts—the rides and games that a person would find at the fair, run by Doug, and the sideshow and acts that someone would find at a circus, run by Gideon.
Though Gideon had the final word on everything, the midway and the sideshow really worked as two separate autonomous entities. We even kept our camps separately. Those of us who worked in the sideshow kept our motorhomes parked in an oblong, and during the day, we’d often gather together for meals.
Doug had his own carnies and gophers who ran all the games and the rides, but the sideshow only had Hutch and me. Hutch technically ran the museum, but that didn’t keep him too busy, so he ended up helping out with odd jobs a lot.
After Gabe left, I spent the rest of the night trying to avoid the fairgrounds, since I didn’t want to bump into him or his family again. I cleaned up around the camp, helped Gideon out with some of his bookkeeping, and prepped a meal for when the carnival closed. Most people returned from work with a huge appetite, so we usually ate the biggest meal of the day around midnight.
My mom returned a little before eleven. I was outside, cooking up potatoes in tinfoil on the grill, and she walked right past me without saying a word, hurrying into our Winnebago with her shawl pulled tightly around her.
“Mom?” I called after her, but she didn’t answer.
She’d finished up early, and she’d ignored me. Both of those were bad signs, so I moved the food off the grill, then went into the trailer to check on her.
“I don’t need you,” Mom snapped as soon as I came inside.