“You’ve convinced me,” Cassie said. “I’ll get on there tonight.” Hopefully, learning how to work Facebook would distract her from the building pain, worry, and disappointment burning through her.
She headed for her car, hoping they didn’t watch her walk away. Just in case, she held in the tears that insisted on burning behind her eyes. They fought to come out and blurred her vision, but she didn’t — couldn’t — let them fall until she was far enough away that her friends wouldn’t notice her sniffing or wiping her cheeks. She suddenly remembered that she hadn’t gotten a dessert for Matt, but as she got in her car, that didn’t seem to matter.
She looked down the road to be sure they were gone. Then she leaned back and let the tears flow. How had she thought that she had a real boyfriend, someone who cared about her? Why had she thought that their innocent kisses meant anything?
Hadn’t she always wanted romance and passion and everything that came with those things? Matt was the best friend she’d ever had. She hardly knew Andrea and Tammy anymore. They’d felt like strangers during dinner.
Yet she wanted what they had.
Something as simple as rose petals would go a long way. A custom ring would be nice. Any ring would be nice. Or a blanket to snuggle beneath, not one to burrow under alone.
Was the slightest romantic gesture too much to ask?
Maybe.
She and Matt had nothing beyond their routine, and every day was more of the same old, same old. She could predict her summer days and her school-year days alike, week after week, month after month, the bland sameness stretching ahead of her like the straight line of a boardwalk, stretching into eternity without even sulfur gas or steaming geysers to make the journey interesting.
She started the engine and pulled out of her parking spot, unsure whether to feel sad or angry. Unsure whether she was pathetic or just blind.
As she drove into the darkness, she shook her head, sending tears down her cheeks.
We don’t even have a song.
Chapter Three
Cassie went through the next day like a robot. And the next, and the next, and the next. For the most part, she kept to herself, interacting with fellow crew members as little as possible while maintaining — she hoped — an outward appearance of her typical cheerful self.
To her relief, Matt had been assigned elsewhere for the week — so far. She didn’t pay attention to specifics, just to the fact that he wouldn’t be around Old Faithful. That meant she didn’t need to pretend for him.
After dinner with her friends, she’d joined Facebook, as promised. But after friending Andrea and Tammy and scrolling through a few recent updates complete with blissful words and romantic photos, she hadn’t bothered logging back on. Those words and images were seared into her brain; she didn’t need to look at them again, practically taunting her from the screen about how perfect her friends’ lives and relationships were.
As she carried on at work, pretending that all was well, her friends’ words from dinner, their updates, and their photos returned again and again to her mind, and inevitably, the realities of her life stood beside them — and looked colorless. Did she have a pathetic life? What would she say to Matt next time she saw him? The worry and stress created an intense pressure, as if Cassie had a geyser inside her with the emotional steam building toward an inevitable eruption.
What would her eruption look like? When would it happen? Every time she remembered a status update or a photo or a facial expression or tone or romantic story from dinner, her anxiety increased, which only added to the weight in her chest.
How could she not compare those things with her relationship with Matt? Her past year looked awfully lackluster in comparison. She wanted to delete her Facebook account altogether, but that would require visiting the site again, and she didn’t think she could handle that. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself from looking at her friends’ pages — or were they called walls? — which would only make her feel more miserable than she already did.
She greeted museum attendees with a smile that might as well have been a mask, then looked out the big windows to where Old Faithful spouted boiling, steaming water stories high.
Sooner or later, her emotions would push their way to the surface like the hot water always pushed through the geyser’s opening. If she’d learned anything about geysers, it was that the greater the pressure, the greater and sooner the eruption. So maybe she should go back to her friends’ profiles. Looking at them might force the pressure to explode sooner, which might be a relief. She could just get it over with.
At the end of the day, she had bathroom duty, something she typically hated. But tonight, she felt uncharacteristically grateful for the assignment. Cleaning restrooms meant she didn’t have to find ways to avoid talking to people, all the while keeping up the cheerful front. Toilets never asked what was wrong. As she finished up, her phone dinged with a text from Matt.
Got off early. If bison roadblocks don’t stop me, I’ll be there to see you when you get off.
He’d included a red heart at the end. She swallowed hard, aching to see Matt as much as she dreaded seeing him. Conflicted, she decided to work faster so she could leave early and slip out before Matt arrived. With a sigh of relief, Cassie put the cleaning supplies away with fifteen minutes to spare. She took the trash out to the big dumpster in the back, then grabbed her purse from the staff room and headed for the lobby.
Without the sight of Matt standing in silhouette, the lobby seemed oddly large. Empty. And cold. Yet the relief at not having to face him countered the disappointment. She needed time to compose her thoughts before talking to him. She’d send a text explaining that she got off early so he wouldn’t wonder or worry.
Yet instead of texting him, she found herself strolling across the large parking lot not toward her car but to Old Faithful. She walked to the front of the benches and sat on the one right in front of the hole. The geyser wouldn’t erupt again for about forty-five minutes, but its awesome beauty wasn’t why she’d come. She needed a moment to herself to breathe.
With the sun down and the area cleared of tourists, she had it to herself. She lifted her face to the darkening sky, breathing fresh forest air. She held it for a count of ten then let it out in a big whoosh — a breathing exercise that was supposed to help her relax. Too bad she couldn’t breathe out her churning emotions too.
Her phone dinged, and Cassie instinctively pulled it out of her pocket. Another text from Matt. Crap. She’d meant to text him and had imagined him turning around after getting it, but she hadn’t sent it after all.
Did I miss you? Waiting for you in the lobby. You ok?
She stared at the screen for a few seconds, wondering how long she’d been there — not enough time for him to have gotten there already, she didn’t think. But a quick check of the time on her phone showed that she’d been sitting there almost half an hour, even though it felt more like five minutes. Now what? She could go back to meet Matt, wearing a bright smile that hid everything beneath the surface. She could maintain the façade as they walked to her car. Within six minutes of returning to the lobby to see Matt, she could be driving home.
She knew; she’d timed the walk to her car every day this week.
Six minutes. Like clockwork. Their evening stroll into the parking lot was more consistent and reliable than Old Faithful. The predictability was one more piece of their routine, a reality that ate away at her like some kind of acid.
Another text came in, and only then did she realize she’d been staring at Matt’s words without replying.
Seriously, you okay? You didn’t decide to go hang out with a mama moose and her baby, did you? Don’t get yourself killed or anything.
He’d included an emoji of a grinning face, its tongue sticking out. Of course she’d never put herself in such danger. But he sounded genuinely concerned, and she supposed he had reason to be. They were in the middle of a massive national park, and she’d veered from the routine
.
She suddenly felt weary and dreaded the 45-minute drive home. She imagined how nice it would be to be able to rent one of the lodge rooms and crash there every night like most of the maintenance crew did. Yet that, too, would become predictable. What about her life wasn’t utterly predictable?
She lifted a thumb to reply to the texts, but stopped as an idea dropped into her head. Here she sat, out in the middle of the wilderness with the stars lighting up the night sky, all alone on a bench next to Old Faithful. It was a scene as beautiful and loaded with potential romance as anything in a movie or from one of Andrea’s or Tammy’s stories.
What if Matt joined her? They could snuggle and talk until the geyser went off. The higher the water spewed, the farther back they’d lift their faces to see the top. She’d feel the warm spray on her cheeks.
And when the power of the eruption lessened, marking its end, Matt could gently wipe the mist from her face with both thumbs as he held her face, then kiss her right there beneath the stars. The silver moon was visible above the tree line, adding even more romance to the moment.
She imagined the kiss as the kind that curled your toes and sent your heart beating crazily. The kind of kiss she’d only read about. Smiling, she tapped out a reply.
I’m enjoying the evening out by OF. Join me?
She hit send then bit her lip, pleased and nervous at the same time. This wasn’t rose petals, or dancing, or a cappella groups, or expensive food, or any of those other things, but the moment still had serious romantic potential. Plus, it would be private, so Matt wouldn’t worry about public displays of affection in front of tourists.
Maybe she’d meet her friends for another dinner before they left town; she might have a story to tell after all.
In the distance, she heard the door of the visitor’s center open and close, something rarely audible in the daytime because of the crowds. She held her breath, waiting to find out who it was. Her phone chimed again.
On my way.
She heard his boots jogging in the distance and coming nearer. She didn’t turn to him; she had a feeling that even in the dark, he’d be able to tell that she was blushing. Besides, she wanted him to help create the moment. She scooted over to make sure he’d have plenty of room.
The sound of Matt’s boots slowed from a jog to a walk. He slipped onto the bench beside her, leaning his forearms on his legs, and nodded toward the geyser’s opening. “Haven’t seen it go off enough times?” He grinned.
“Sure,” Cassie said vaguely. “Let’s go with that.” She scooted closer until their legs touched, and then she leaned forward and slipped her arm around his, resting her head on his shoulder.
“So,” he said, covering her hand with his. “You okay?”
Was she okay? Not really, but she might be soon. Better to pretend that all was well. She lifted her head enough to look at him, their faces inches apart.
“It’s beautiful tonight,” she said, deliberately avoiding the question. “Don’t you think?”
“Gorgeous,” he agreed. “One big reason I work here. And a big reason you do too, if I’m not mistaken.”
She only nodded and rested her head on his shoulder again. Way to point out the obvious. Of course they both thought the park was beautiful, every area of it no matter the season, no matter the time of day or night. How about next time, you mention that bison live in the park?
“You look cold.” Matt took off his jacket and draped it over Cassie’s shoulders.
“Thanks.” She didn’t want to let go of his arm, so she didn’t use the sleeves, just held the jacket closed at her neck and rewrapped her right one around his arm.
He reached over with his right hand and ran his thumb over the back of hers. Is he doing that because my hand is cold? Or as a sign of affection?
Or was it a mindless action, like scratching an itch or crossing your legs the other direction, just a habit? She would have given her entire savings to know if the gesture meant something more than the fact that he was comfortable around her.
She didn’t realize she’d sighed until Matt leaned back. He looked at her, his brows drawn together. By moonlight, she could barely make out his features, but she could tell that he was worried.
“What?” she said cheerfully.
“You sighed.” He said it almost like an accusation. “What’s wrong?”
Cassie felt her face flush with guilt. She hadn’t meant for him to know that anything was different, that anything upsetting swirled inside her, confusing both her mind and heart. She nudged him. “What could be wrong?”
She’d always been a horrible liar. He knew something was off. He’d probably known this whole time. He was expecting a regular date together; watching another DVD over shakes, no doubt. He’d get chocolate with marshmallow, and she’d get grasshopper. Clockwork.
Matt squeezed her hand. “I know you better than that.”
Okay, now that squeeze meant something. But what? Brotherly affection and concern? Or something more? Anything beyond the familiar, comfortable friendship they’d shared for so long?
His words were true; he probably knew her better than anyone. Except for the fact that she yearned for sparks and passion. And that she needed more than a step beyond platonic.
“Whatever it is,” Matt said, still stroking the top of her hand, “you can tell me.”
When she didn’t answer, he gave her hand another squeeze, this one quick, followed by two more, as if he was making a point. “You’ve been a little off ever since seeing Andrea and — shoot — what’s her name again?”
“Tammy.”
“Right. Tammy. Did you guys have a fight?”
“No, nothing like that,” Cassie said, surprised that he’d pieced together the timeline so precisely.
“But something did happen that night,” Matt said, as if he knew.
“Yeah.” She wished that the moment had already turned romantic. Maybe it still could. “Some things they said got me thinking.”
After a couple of seconds, he prompted, “Got you thinking about…”
She turned to face him. The bubble of romantic anticipation had popped, but she suddenly felt able to tell him what had been troubling her. She rested her right knee on the bench between them, then wished they were still touching. But for this, she had to see his face and get the words out before she exploded.
“Thinking about us,” she said. Three words, but saying them was hard, and she didn’t know how to continue.
Matt’s posture pulled back slightly. Her stomach twisted with guilt. She didn’t want to hurt him. She loved this man. She also needed more.
“Cass.” His voice had grown soft, and his face searched hers. “I thought we were doing okay.”
“We were — are.” She had to concede that much. “But is okay what we should be shooting for? Don’t you want … more?”
“More what?”
The stories from dinner flashed through her head again like a slideshow on triple speed, followed by memories from her childhood. Pretending to be a bride by putting a white blanket on her head as her veil as she walked down the “aisle” between her bed and closet, clutching lilacs from the yard as her bouquet. Mingled with those memories were images from movies and books, with all of the romantic moments that had made her sigh happily and hope for her own Prince Charming one day.
Of course, most relationships didn’t have the intense sparks and excitement found in the most basic rom-com. But a lot of relationships had some spark. Most did, right? A little excitement. If the two of them had lost any spark only this far into their relationship, where would they end up later? The last thing she wanted was a platonic marriage, even if it did last sixty years.
That was assuming Matt ever proposed instead of keeping her in clockwork limbo for life.
“Cass, you’re scaring me.”
“It’s just that…” She straightened, took a deep breath and tried to explain with the first thing that came to mind. “We don’t even have a son
g.”
He cocked his head in confusion. “What?”
Cassie’s courage threatened to fail her, but there was no going back now. “You know. Couples hear a song on the radio and go, ‘That’s our song.’ And it’s something that’ll always be special to them because they heard it at a significant time, or the lyrics are meaningful, or…” Her voice trailed off as she realized how ridiculous she must sound.
“Let me get this straight,” Matt said slowly. “You’re upset because there isn’t a tune we can point to and say, ‘That’s our song’?”
“Yes. I mean no.” Cassie buried her face in her hands. How could she explain? She lowered her hands and tried again. “It’s bigger than a song.”
“That’s the tip of an iceberg?” Matt said. When she nodded, he blew out a heavy breath of his own. “Sounds ominous. So what’s the ninety percent under the surface?”
Cassie found her heart beating so hard that it was a wonder he didn’t hear it pounding against her ribcage. Here goes nothing.
“We’ve been going out for a long time, right?” she began.
Matt held up a hand to interrupt. “Are you breaking up with me?”
I sure hope not, she thought, but said, “No. Just listen.” She closed her eyes to compose herself. “We’ve gotten into a rut. Relationships move and change, but we aren’t going anywhere. We do the same things every summer and then email and call during the school year, saying the same things. For all I know, that’s what we’ll be doing in fifty years. The other night, listening to these hugely romantic things Tammy’s and Andrea’s fiancés had done — I mean, big stuff, some of them in public, even, and they were perfect, so romantic. I couldn’t help but wish—”
Her thoughts had come so fast that she hadn’t taken time to decide what was better left unsaid. Matt looked cautious and worried; she had to press on before she lost her nerve.
“Then they wanted me to dish about the romantic things from our relationship. But I couldn’t think of anything. I felt like a tin can sitting on a log waiting to be shot off during target practice. I couldn’t even tell them that we had a song. That’s like the rock bottom, most obvious romantic thing there is, but—” She found herself studying her fingers, unable to look at him. “I used to think that we were headed somewhere. But now, I’m confused, and I worry...” Words failed her, so she finished lamely, “that we have no real spark anymore. That we aren’t going anywhere.”
Love Far from Home Box Set Page 7