by Jewel E. Ann
“He loves traveling, reading, puzzles, animals, all sports, and he’s a Christian. Oh … did I mention he is incredibly hot? During his undergrad years, he did bodybuilding competitions. He’s not like over-the-top bulky with massive, hard veins popping out of his skin everywhere. Just extremely fit.”
But would he peel my panties off with his teeth while kneeling behind me?
“I’m sure he’s great, but he’s also a resident which means he lives at the hospital. And I’m starting my master’s next year which means I won’t have a lot of free time either.”
“Reese, stop waiting to find love. The timing will never be perfect. You can’t pass up opportunities. When the right person comes along, you should grab him. Nothing would make me happier than you finding love. Like I found with Rose.” She reached over and squeezed Rose’s leg. “Like Angie and Fisher. I want the people who mean the most to me to have the best life has to offer.”
“What if she just wants to work and finish school?” Fisher said. “What if she wants to live freely like I did at her age? What if she doesn’t want one man? What if she wants a different guy every night because …” He shrugged. “Why the fuck not? Why rush into anything?”
I wasn’t sure who was in more shock, me or Rory. On the one hand, he was kind of sticking up for me. On the other hand, did he believe the things he said to her? Did Fisher think I was still too young? Was that our fate? Our reality?
When I was seventy, was he still going to play the age card?
“Reese, you might have a little arthritis, but wait until you’re eighty and you can’t get out of bed in the morning without a handful of pain meds consumed with a stiff drink.”
Rose did a commendable job of taking Rory’s hot dog from her and getting it on a bun with ketchup and mustard, acting like it wasn’t the most uncomfortable conversation.
“Is that what you want, Reese? Just … random hookups? Have you completely left your religious morals behind?”
“Well …” I wasn’t sure how to answer that. How to make the whole conversation end or shift the focus to someone besides me. “Maybe there’s something between marriage and sleeping with three guys a week. Maybe I can just focus on my job and let my love life happen organically without being fixed up right now.” I took a big bite of my hot dog. “But thanks,” I mumbled over the food in my mouth.
Rory was just looking out for her daughter. And a few months earlier, I would have been really excited about Dr. Awesome.
After another hour of fire, beer, and marshmallows, Rory and Rose escaped into the woods to do their business.
As soon as I felt confident they were out of earshot, I kicked Fisher’s leg.
“What was that for?” Fisher narrowed his eyes at me.
“You think I should be with a different guy every night?”
“I think I hate asking you to wait for me to get my life straightened out.”
That wasn’t the answer I wanted. “I’m going to catch up with them.” With a flashlight in hand, I stomped my way into the woods.
“Reese …”
I didn’t respond.
By the time we returned to the campsite, Fisher had extinguished the fire and returned the chairs to the back of his truck.
“Fisher? You ready for bed?” Rory called.
“Yup,” he called from inside his tent. “I went potty and brushed my teeth. Thanks, Mom.”
Rory laughed. “Okay. Night.”
I started to unzip the door to my tent.
“Night, sweetie. See you in the morning, birthday girl.” Rory hugged me and so did Rose.
“Night.” Turning on the lantern light for my tent, I paused on my knees just before zipping my door shut. My sleeping bag was laid out along with an extra blanket and my pillow at the top with a note on it.
I’ll ask anyway … wait for me.
Taking the note, I hugged it to my chest, then I changed into my thermal leggings and matching long-sleeved shirt before crawling into my sleeping bag and shutting off the light.
It took me forever to get to sleep, probably because Rory and Rose were up so late playing mancala. Then a little after two in the morning, I woke from the cold, tossing and turning, unable to get warm. After letting my teeth chatter for nearly another half hour, I wrapped the blanket around me, shoved my feet into my shoes, and tiptoed to Fisher’s tent.
He didn’t move when I unzipped his tent nor when I zipped it shut. Peaceful Fisher nestled into his sleeping bag, curled onto his side … happy birthday to me, I thought.
Until …
The most jarring sound blared out.
I nearly wet my pants.
Fisher shot up. “What are you doing?”
“Oh my god … Fisher?” Rory called.
I dove out of his tent, but not before Rory and Rose were out of their tent with flashlights shining on both Fisher’s tent (and me) and his truck with its alarm blaring.
It stopped when Fisher stepped out of his tent, holding the key fob.
“Jesus, was it a bear?” Rose asked.
“Reese, what on earth were you doing in Fisher’s tent?” Rory didn’t seem to care about the possibility of a bear setting off Fisher’s truck alarm.
I tightened my grip on my blanket, still shivering, even more so since my body was in shock from the alarm sounding. “I … I was f-freezing. And …” I needed to think fast, but it was hard because I was so cold and feeling terrible for waking everyone, and it was technically my birthday, and yeah … I started to cry.
“She just poked her head into my tent to ask for my truck keys because she was cold and wanted to sleep in the truck, but when she crawled next to me to wake me up, she hit the key fob and set off the alarm.” Fisher for the save.
Rory eyed me, shining the stupid flashlight in my eyes. “Sweetie, your lips are blue. Oh my goodness.”
I sniffled and quickly wiped my eyes, feeling so stupid and terrible for everything as Rory hugged me.
“Get in our tent. We’ll keep you warm.”
Shooting Fisher a quick glance, I followed them to their tent.
Chapter Twenty
My attempts to get warm next to Fisher failed miserably. However, his attempt to come up with a good excuse for me being in his tent was a total success. Rory didn’t think twice about it.
Then I, the lucky birthday girl, got to wake up nestled between Rose and Rory instead of nestled into the naked chest of Fisher. Twenty-four was already an unforgettable birthday.
“I have to pee,” I whispered, peeling myself out of the middle.
“Okay. Happy birthday, sweetie,” Rory mumbled. It was still early. “I’ll go with you.” She sounded half awake at best.
“I’m good. Really.”
“Sure?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll get up and start breakfast soon.”
“No rush. I’m not hungry yet.” I escaped their tent with Rose still sleeping and Rory likely on the verge of going back to sleep.
After I got dressed, Fisher greeted me at the opening of my tent with a thermos of coffee, handing it to me.
“Th—” I started to thank him, but he held a finger to his lips.
Then he smiled while ducking his head to my ear. “Happy birthday.”
With my free hand, I gripped his fleece jacket. He dragged his mouth along my cheek to my lips and kissed me, using his hands to hold my face.
I wasn’t sure if the absence of Angie was my gift or the sex in his tent the previous night … or the coffee? The kiss? Or was it the huge grin he gave me after the kiss as he nodded to the right and took my hand?
Fisher was the gift.
He took the thermos from my hand and set it by the tent before taking my hand again and pulling me toward the woods.
“Where are we going? I have to pee,” I whispered.
“On a hike. We’ll find you a rock to pee on.”
I laughed as he led us out of earshot from Rory and Rose. “Why a rock?”
“It’s the more eco-friendly place to pee. It dries. Nothing is harmed. And I know you’re an eco-friendly girl.” He glanced back and smirked.
The organic cotton tampons.
“What about Rory and Rose?” I asked.
“I don’t know what tampons they use.”
Rolling eyes, I shook my head. “I mean, what happens when they wake up and we’re gone?”
“I’m going with alien abduction. Rose is a real conspiracy theorist. And I know she believes in aliens.”
“She does?”
“Fuck. I don’t know. I’m just making shit up to entertain you. Are you entertained?” He shot me a sideways glance as I caught up to him.
I didn’t want to grin, but I did. He squeezed my hand as we made our way up the incline. I wondered if he had meaningless banter like that with Angie. And by meaningless, I meant it was everything. It meant we made each other laugh. It meant he enjoyed being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him.
And I wanted it to mean that we were meant to be together—that we would be together.
“I’m always entertained by you. And … I still need to pee. We’re passing a lot of good rocks.”
“Sorry.” He released my hand and pointed to a rock just off the trail. “That one should work.”
I glanced in both directions. There didn’t seem to be anyone close by us. “Okay.” I maneuvered my way to the rock and turned toward the trail, hands starting to unbutton my jeans and pull down my zipper. “What are you doing?”
He stood on the trail, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you standing there, staring at me?”
“I’m keeping a watch out for you.”
“But you’re staring at me. I’m not going to pee with you staring at me.”
“I’ve seen you naked.”
“And I’ve seen you naked, but I don’t want to watch you pee.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to watch you. I said I’m keeping a watch out for you.”
“Turn around.”
“Just hurry up.”
“I can’t hurry up! I have to remove my boots and my jeans.”
“Why are you removing your boots?”
“Because I have to remove my boots to take off my jeans.”
“Why are you taking off your jeans?”
“Because I don’t have a penis!”
And then … a middle-aged gentleman made his way down the trail, hearing me loud and clear, a tiny grin pinned to his face as he glanced over at me with my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped.
“Morning.” Fisher smiled and gave the guy a little chin nod.
I dropped my face in my hands. “Kill me now,” I whispered.
“I’ll turn around.” He chuckled.
There was most likely an art to squat-peeing without removing one’s jeans, but I wasn’t trained well in that technique. I knew my attempt would have led to my jeans being doused in urine. So yeah, I removed everything below my waist before angling myself to pee on the rock.
“Someone’s coming. Hurry up.”
“What?”
“I said someone’s—”
“I heard you.” I cut my pee off midstream.
“Then why did you say what?”
“I meant it like WHAT!”
“Like what the fuck?”
I rolled my eyes and scrambled for my panties, but they were caught in my jeans because one of the legs to my jeans was inside out.
“What are you doing?” He turned around, and I didn’t have time to care.
“My jeans are messed-up!” I stabbed my arm in the inside-out leg.
Beanie.
Thermal shirt and fleece jacket.
And socks. That was it. All I had on.
I glanced to the right. The couple coming up the hill were getting closer.
“Fisher!”
That stupid smirk slid onto his face as he took his time trekking toward me. I wadded my jeans in front of me to cover as much as possible as Fisher stood in front of me, facing the trail and angling his body to keep me as hidden as possible when the couple passed us.
“Morning.” He shared another friendly greeting as I pressed my face into his back to hide from … life at the moment.
“Gah! I should have gone farther off this stupid trail. How embarrassing!” I fought with my jeans to free my panties. Then I dressed as fast as I could. When I glanced up while buttoning my jeans, Fisher had his lips trapped between his teeth while he adjusted himself. “Are you … turned on?” I asked in disbelief, feeling a little irritated that he had the nerve to find my unfortunate situation sexy.
He lifted one shoulder. “I’m not … not turned on.”
“Screw the foliage or eco-friendly etiquette. I should have just peed in the brush.” I stomped my way up the hill, keeping a good six feet ahead of him.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“No.”
“Sounds like you’re mad at me. Is it because I have a penis and you don’t? Because I didn’t ask for a penis. It just came with my body.”
“Stop it,” I tried to say with a completely serious tone, but it was difficult.
“Stop what?” He took a few long strides to catch up to me.
“Stop talking.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re trying to make me laugh, and I don’t want to laugh. I want to be mad.”
“It’s your birthday. You can’t be mad on your birthday.”
I stopped and faced him, hands balled at my sides. “I can be mad on my birthday because I froze my ass—my butt off last night! And when I tried to warm up, your stupid truck’s alarm went off. And then I spent the rest of the night sleeping between my mom and Rose. And they both snore. And …” I started to run out of steam.
“Were you going to ask me to warm you up?”
“No. I wasn’t going to ask you. I was just going to wedge my cold body next to yours in your sleeping bag.”
“Naked?” His eyebrows lifted.
“I … I don’t know.” I shook my head, feeling irritated that he asked me that. And feeling irritated that he wouldn’t stop grinning.
“That would have been the only way to really warm you up. Both of us naked. You’re a nurse. You should know that.”
I started to speak, but I had no great reply to his gibberish.
His head cocked to the side. “You were … you were going to get into my sleeping bag naked. You were going to get warm and then try to get some. Am I right? A little early birthday delight.”
It hurt the muscles in my lips too much to not smile. I had to grin. I had to giggle.
Fisher refused to let me be anything but happy. And wasn’t that the whole purpose in life? To find one’s happy place and stay there as long as possible? He was mine.
Bliss.
Smiles.
Giggles.
“There she is.” His already ginormous grin managed to swell a little more. He tugged my beanie down a fraction of an inch, a playful, teasing gesture.
“Can I ask you something?” My smile faded a little.
“Of course.”
“What do you fear most? Is it your memory returning and you suddenly knowing what you felt for her and why you felt it? Is it disappointing your family if you don’t marry her? Is it making the wrong decision?”
He tucked his hands into my back pockets and kissed my forehead. “It’s losing you while I attempt to do the right thing.”
“What is the right thing?”
“That’s…” he shook his head slowly as creases formed along his brow “…just it. I’m not sure. I feel like a nearly thirty-year friendship deserves something … even if it’s just a little more time. And while I don’t remember loving Angie, I’m not immune to her feelings now. I’m not immune to my family’s feelings either. And they still have this great hope that I will get my memory back. And this huge part of me, the part that loves you, doesn’t care to remember the past. But this o
ther part feels like I can’t end this planned future without remembering my past.”
“And what if you never remember? I mean … I’m here. I’m here for you. And my heart is firm on this … I’m in it for as long as I’m in it. But my brain will eventually try to override my heart in an effort for self-preservation. You haven’t canceled your wedding. If you don’t remember by then … then what? You marry her?”
“No. I don’t marry her. I … I …”
He didn’t know. How could he?
“I postpone it.”
“You postpone it?” My jaw dropped. “You postpone something you want to happen, just at a later date.”
“What do you want me to say? What would you want me to do if you were in Angie’s shoes?”
“I’d want you to love me. Love me now. Love me without any yesterdays. And if you couldn’t love me like that, then I’d want you to let me go.”
He nodded slowly. “Then I’ll let her go.”
I couldn’t believe he said it. He said it without hesitation. He said it with such absolution it made my heart pause for a second.
So why … why did my paused heart hurt so much in that moment? Was I asking too much? It hadn’t been that long since his accident. We fell in love so quickly. And maybe that did mean everything. But did I say what I said because it was really how I would have felt in Angie’s shoes? Or was it easy to say that because I already had his love?
Why did it have to be so hard? So messy?
Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “Give it … give it more time.” I opened my eyes. “But draw a line. Like two months, six months, a year, whatever. Just draw a line so when we get there, we know it’s over. Whatever over means at that time. Then let yourself live. Because you are alive with or without the past.”
“January first.”
“January first,” I repeated. Just over two months away.
“If it doesn’t come back by then, I move forward without trying to look back anymore. I let her go. I let my family know I can’t marry someone I don’t love.”
“I can do January first.” I nodded several times. After five years and a handful of months without Fisher, I could survive two more months if it meant we would be together. “So … I’ll just keep my distance while you do your part to remember things and keep your family happy for as long as possible.”