“Yeah, Ky. And, honey, having it feels good.”
“All right, baby. See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”
“You, too. Bye.”
He hung up and I sat back against the headboard with my eyes closed. Everything we talked about ran around and around in a dizzying circle in my mind until eventually, I shook my head and picked up the next letter.
“What advice do you have for twenty-year-old me, Mom?” I asked out loud and opened the letter.
My dearest Kasaraibo,
Today you are twenty. When I was twenty, I was giving birth to your sister Evie. I’d traveled the states with a belly-dancing group and ended up on the East Coast. I met Adam Ross at nineteen. He was on leave with the military for three months. He’s older than me by eight years. I broke off from the belly-dancing group and spent some of the best three months of my life with Adam.
I was enamored with him. He was everything I never had in my life. The light to my dark. Just like my Evie. Everything about him was golden, from his hair color to his heart.
We spent the first month traveling the East Coast together. Soaking up everything we could in the short time we had. One day in Atlantic City, we threw caution to the wind and got married at a little chapel overlooking the ocean. It was spontaneous. Nothing like the strong, respectful, consistent soldier he later became.
For two months we lived in pure married bliss. Which is also when I became pregnant. He went back to his base a married man. I went back to the reservation and my tribe a married woman who was two months pregnant. When Evie was born, he was able to go on leave again. We gloried in the precious gift that I bore. When we were together, we lived and we loved to our fullest. Celebrated every moment we had with one another and our daughter. Never took for granted the time we had. It was all precious. Always.
And that is what I want you to know, my Isabeau. That during the time I had with you, I never wasted a moment. Those three months imprinted on my mind and my heart. There wasn’t a day that went by I didn’t think of the perfect angel I left behind.
My wish is for you to find a mate that connects so clearly to your heart and soul that it doesn’t matter how much time you get together. Whether it’s intermittent the way Adam and I were, or for a short time the way Ian and I connected. Or whether it is for a single year, like the time I had with you growing in my belly, and the three months after. One of the most beautiful years of my life. A grand purpose. Something I will always be grateful for, to the Creator, to your fathers and to you.
May you find a love that spans time...
I know it’s possible, for that’s the way I have always loved you.
Catori.
I let out a deep breath as the tears once again fell down my cheeks. My body shook as I realized with every letter I learned more than I ever hoped to learn about the woman who gave me life. It was beauty and pain all wound together in pink parchment and the desperate words of a dying mother who had abandoned her daughter.
Without a second thought I picked up the phone and hesitated for a single moment when I pulled up my recent calls list.
I skipped over Jasper’s name and clicked on Kyson’s.
He answered on the first ring.
“You okay, baby?” His tone was anxious, worried.
“No,” I whispered as more tears fell.
“Talk to me.”
And for the next two hours we lay in our beds and talked about life. Me about my mother. Him about his lost hopes and dreams for his marriage and his daughter. We were both emotionally exhausted but neither one of us wanted to let the other go. I closed my eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his deep breaths, my phone still connected to his.
Sixteen
The coffeepot glugged along as I rubbed my scratchy, tired eyes. I slept hard after the long talk with Kyson. Even though I was tired, I felt refreshed. Ready to take on the future in a way that the possibilities seemed endless.
I yawned as there was a knock at my door.
Jasper. Probably got up late and didn’t bother to make coffee, knowing I didn’t leave the house to take on my day without two cups of liquid caffeine rushing through my system.
I covered my mouth when I let out another yawn, dragging my half-asleep booty to the door.
Another knock sounded against the door.
“Okay, okay, Jas. Jeez Louise, hold your horses already,” I griped as I unlocked the bolt and opened the door with a flourish.
Jasper was not behind the door. Kyson was. Looking incredibly fine in a pair of worn Levi’s with all the faded areas highlighting the best spots. Right then it was his strong, trunk-like thighs that had all my attention. What I didn’t realize was at the time was that he was sizing me up, too.
I wore a small pair of boy-short undies, a camisole tank top that left my suddenly erect nipples very visible behind the thin cotton and my hair down and ratty from a night of hard sleep.
“Jesus! You answer the door like that? Baby, we gotta talk about this. But first...” he growled. Before I could even respond, he reached for me.
Honestly, I was still stuck on his muscular thighs when he gripped my hips, pushed me back, kicked the door shut with his construction booted foot, hooked a hand at my nape and pressed his lips to mine.
He went straight for the tongue action, licking against the seam of my lips until I opened my mouth and invited him in. Which I did the second my brain connected with the feel of his body against mine. He kissed me hard and deep. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tunneled my fingers into the long, dark layers of his silky hair.
He moaned against my mouth and sucked my tongue, then pulled back and nipped at my bottom lip. I groaned at the tiny pinch and repaid him back with a nip of his supremely curved top lip. Before I knew it, he’d led me across the room until the backs of my knees hit my bed and I started to fall.
Kyson caught me and eased my descent, but I wasn’t alone. No, he stretched his fine-ass body over the top of mine and kissed the living daylights out of me.
His hands roamed along my waist, hips and up to squeeze my breasts. I arched, wanting more of his touch.
Kyson pulled back from the drugging kisses he was giving and pressed his forehead to mine, his breath labored. “Tell me to stop.”
“Why would I do that?” I lifted my hips and rubbed my core against the erection behind his jeans. Absolute bliss.
“Isa, if you don’t tell me to stop, I’m not going to be able to,” he warned.
I lifted my upper body to press against him and ran my fingers down his long back until I reached the hem of his shirt. I curled my fingers around the cotton fabric and yanked it up to his neck. “Off!” I demanded.
“Baby... I’m trying to do the right thing here.” He ran his nose along mine, nipped at my bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue.