by LJ Scar
She bunched up her down jacket for a headrest and settled down feet to head. This was familiar. We used to come together like this. Legs bent at knees usually mine between hers.
I finished my magazine. She was as usual captivated by a book. A pocket calendar rested on her nightstand. Nosily, I picked it up and thumbed through the months I’d missed her.
“Can I help you?” She peered over the top of her novel.
“What does the P stand for?”
“The day each month I get my period.”
“Why are you marking it? You never did before.”
“Cause nothing sucks more than getting caught out without supplies.” She knocked her knee into mine on purpose. I snooped more. “What are you looking for?”
“Hidden codes.”
She sat up straddling my one leg, which now brushed her breasts. She looked pissed. “I don’t do that shit.”
“What shit?”
“Put little hearts on the dates I had sex.” Her expression said I could hurt you if I wanted.
“So what do you do?”
“Shut up.” She settled back again, dismissive.
“You never used to do the P thing,” I commented not letting it rest.
“Because I wanted your baby,” she said sarcastically flipping her page.
“And now?”
“I know I can’t have it.”
This time I sat up. “I need to confess something.”
She scrunched up her face in exasperation. “No, you don’t. I don’t want to hear your confessions.” She covered her ears with her hands.
I pulled them off and held them in mine. “It wasn’t you back then it was me. I was juicing.”
“Huh?” She sat up, pressing our bodies closer.
“Steroids. They cause temporary infertility.”
“How long did you take them?” she asked totally caught off guard.
“The whole time you were trying to get pregnant.”
She nodded, looking lost and uncommunicative. She got up, turned her book open spine down on the bed and left. I knew not to follow her.
Chapter 22
Hanna
I could feel his eyes on me. Felt his presence. The press of finely ground granules for cappuccino infiltrated my nostrils. I didn’t turn around. It was still dark outside. The store was open but empty of customers.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
I shrugged not trusting myself to speak. I’d slept in the car under a moonless sky.
“I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.”
Another sorry, after waiting so long to hear his apologies the words no longer had meaning. I steamed the milk almost drowning his voice in the whirring froth maker. After adding the white chocolate syrup to my espresso, I layered the dairy, dousing it in whip cream, topping in cocoa dust. I took a sip not caring that I burnt my tongue. His hand startled me when he palmed the back of my head.
“I would take it all back if only I could,” he said.
“I’m glad you didn’t. What would I have done with a baby? It was wrong of me to put you in that position.”
He stroked my hair, reminding me of when I would pet one of the timid dogs at the shelter. “What else can I do?”
“Stop doing things that need apologies.” I turned and hugged him tightly. We stayed connected until I heard voices coming. “Go back to bed. You’ve still got a few hours till your shift.”
I shooed him off wondering if I’d ever discover all his betrayals.
Tanner
Although I liked my roommate, Glade was an opportunistic player. He was always trying to take Hanna off alone somewhere, inviting her on hikes, moonlit drives, and dinners.
She was not in the game from my perspective. Every time he offered, she cajoled me into accompanying. It didn’t take much coercion for me to chaperone.
This was how I found myself on a cold evening a few hours before sunset after one of the most brutal afternoon storms of the summer season. A damp chill hung in the air and Hanna was not in one of her better moods.
The creek we crossed was slippery. Rocks and steep cliffs prevented crossing switchbacks. Glade outpaced us and we lost sight of him. Gingerly we ran past a mountain goat with one antler hanging precariously from a bloody stump on his head.
“I know they lose those naturally but that looks painful. He looked old and crotchety.”
I laughed. “Yeah. Glade probably took the poor animal’s other antler for his collection.”
Patches of ground were muddy, rutted with significant damage from the torrential downpour. I couldn’t locate where the trail started and stopped. She was sliding and I steadied her by the elbow. Ahead of the damaged area was no better. I saw the posting of the trailhead warning that between the lake and elbow it was steep and narrow, not recommended for passage. I didn’t want to be the first to back out.
We both stopped and leaned against the nearest tree. The oddest thing happened. Her cell must have come into range of a tower. A strange ring tone erupted startling us and the tranquil scene. She looked down at the screen and pressed a button silencing the call and sending whoever to voice mail in one fall sweep.
“Where is he?” Hanna asked irritably.
“Up ahead. We’ve been going slowly.”
“He could have waited.” She didn’t hide her agitated tone.
“Hey!” Glade called in the distance and started towards us. “Aren’t you guys coming?”
“The conditions aren’t ideal for hiking,” Hanna yelled. “I’m turning back.”
I looked towards Glade and shrugged. “I’m going back with her dude.”
He came up to walk beside me while Hanna trekked ahead. “I give up.”
I laughed. “On what?”
“Her.”
Hanna
Ansel, who I’d written off when I left California, kept calling routinely. Days and hours varied, he never left a message. When I was in the park boundaries, the calls couldn’t reach me. Outside that area, I would see his contact information and silence the call.
I don’t know why it mattered to him that I didn’t want to be friends. We had an odd relationship from the get go, almost that of a therapist and patient. We altered roles many times. When I left, I decided he was a chapter I would close, not a long term character in my book of life. I kept thinking of one of our talks and what he would say about Tanner and me here…now.
November the prior year
We were at a coffee shop, sipping cappuccinos.
“That girl over there.” Ansel motioned to a fresh faced girl maybe fifteen. “Think that’s her dad?”
I took in the guy with the graying temples, his hand placed on her upper thigh. “If so then it’s incestuous. Either way the old guy is a perv.”
The conversation grew stranger. “The last girl I slept with was once a girlfriend, although not current. I picked her up on a rainy night outside a club on Sunset Strip. She’d called me crying, playing on old weaknesses begging for a rescue.”
“When was that?” I don’t know why I asked.
He scrunched up his face. “Eight months at least.”
“Really?”
He leaned back and looked me dead on. “Why would I lie?”
I shrugged.
“What about you?” he asked.
Tanner surfaced in my memories. Suddenly, I didn’t want to think of where he might be at that moment, who he was with. “May,” I answered.
He nodded.
“How come?”
“How come what?” he asked.
“The abstinence,” I clarified.
“That was how long it had been since I took my last drink.”
I didn’t understand. “What does abstaining from sex have to do with staying sober?”
He closed his eyes before he answered. Usually I hated that, because lies were easier without eye contact but I didn’t think he would lie. “Because of the lack of inhibitions.”
“I thought that was on
ly true for females.”
He shrugged. “I’m shy what can I say.”
“You’re full of shit.”
He laughed. “How come for you?”
“I’m saving myself.”
Full of sarcasm he replied, “Right.”
“Not saving myself that way. Literally saving myself.”
“Interesting… go on.”
“Saving myself from bitterness, unhappiness, disinterest, betrayals…”
“Basically all the pitfalls of falling in love.”
“You got it.”
“Then I’m saving you too.”
Chapter 23
Tanner
Time passed. We sat on a bluff of outcropped rock called Sun Point overlooking St. Mary’s Lake. It was late on a workday. The sun was setting in the colors of purples that never quite captured in photos.
“You never talk about college. What is it like?” she asked.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong,” I answered.
“You belong everywhere. Fitting in was never your problem.”
“Maybe it was. Maybe being insecure put me on the path of destruction.”
She studied me. “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t join a frat. I thought you would.”
I shook my head. “No, but Didge pledged.” I watched her grimace at the mention of his name before I continued. “I went to a few rush parties but to me it was more of high school and I felt beyond it.”
“Intellectually?” she teased.
“I was never very deep.”
She laughed. “Few are. Quoters of philosophers, probing characters of existentialism - most are fakes and flakes. No thought is original. Everything hasn’t been thought of before.”
“I’m jealous you know?”
“Of what?”
“This year you took just to experience life.”
“Huh, I never thought of it that way…experiencing life. Isn’t that what every day is?”
“Well, yes and no. I mean I spent two semesters with my head stuck in textbooks and trying to absorb lectures from mostly boring professors.”
“And you think I…what?” The smile she wore did not reach her eyes.
“Had fun.”
“Mostly my time was spent schlepping food.”
“You got to travel. You road tripped. You met people.”
“Well I did pick up this crazy hitchhiker in Colorado. We spent a month in a cheap hotel until I found him cooking meth in the bathtub.”
“Funny.”
“I’m not joking,” she stated with a serious face.
“Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change my love for you.” The words just came out but I couldn’t take them back. Saying it felt right.
She smiled. “That is not an original feeling.” She leaned close and gave me a kiss. Sweet lips pursed. Mouth closed. “I love you too, for what it is worth.”
Tanner
We began the Trail of the Cedars to Avalanche Lake on planks of boardwalk over thawing moist ground that connected with paved spots. Then we broke to the right going over a dirt trail that climbed over rocks and tree roots. Like the trails namesake, Cedars straddled both sides. Climbing higher we came to a bit of a clearing where we could hear and then look over the edge at the roar of Avalanche Creek. As the water churned in the gorge below a mist rose and mixed with lush greens that made me think of Hanna reading Trev stories of fairies in wooded glens.
At the summit, we stepped from the path and trees to emerge at another turquoise lake’s waters. I wasn’t one for ten cent words but majestic felt right. The unseen glacier and mountain runoff fell thousands of feet from the peaks above creating waterfalls cascading into the lake.
Hanna rested on a fallen tree whitewashed and ghostly lying on the shore and removed her hiking boots. I followed her lead, even sticking my feet into the frigid water.
I wanted to revisit our college conversation but decided to let it rest. I had four more weeks to convince her. “Kali’s parents are at the lodge. She told me she was spending the night with them being pampered.”
“I know.”
“She said I should spend the night with you.”
“She probably should have consulted me first.”
“So you want to be alone?”
“No.”
Her quick reply boosted my confidence. “But….”
“Nothing is going to happen, Tanner.” She shuffled her feet back to dry land but kept picking up small rocks and studying them.
“I didn’t expect it too.”
The wind caught her loose hair sending a curtain of brown over her face distorting her expression from my view. “I have to leave for work by six tomorrow.”
“Rising early doesn’t bother me.” Every blockade she was going to come up with I already knew what words I’d use to deflect.
She went back to the log and sat. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Watching the sun reflect off her hazel eyes, I knew I would have to keep myself in check or I’d ruin everything.
Hanna
We had been laughing, having a good time when he suddenly became preoccupied looking through my books. He picked up one and started reading the back cover.
The title was Mating in Captivity. It suggested that becoming too familiar with each other doesn’t help keep the spark alive in long term relationships or marriage. “I read that to try to figure out what went wrong with my parents. You know so I don’t fall into that same trap.”
Tanner sighed. “What went wrong was your dad.”
“Well, yeah but what made him that way. Was it a loss of desire for my mom?”
He shrugged. “Your mom was beautiful, kind and fun. She was a different shade of you. I wouldn’t gross yourself out by thinking too hard about what went on in their bedroom.”
“The book suggests that couples spend more time apart hanging out with friends or developing new interests. That way you have a chance to miss each other or get curious about each other’s lives.”
He was staring at me. “Your dad was always on the road Hanna. They did all those things.”
“Well, I think there is some truth to the theory. Look at what distance has done for us.”
Startled, he froze. He reached out and took me by the shoulders. “Hanna...”
Interrupting, I didn’t let him say what he intended, “It’s okay. I get it.”
“No you don’t. I hooked up with those girls because I was a dick. Not because of anything you did or didn’t do.”
I shrugged.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Dwelling on the bad.”
I stiffened.
“I’m done pretending.”
“I didn’t realize you were,” I retorted.
“Hug me.”
I complied.
“NOT like that!” he barked as I loosely embraced him. He clutched me harder. “Tight and pressed like you used to.” I put some muscle into it. “Now kiss me.”
I laughed pulling back. “I don’t think so.”
“Then I’ll kiss you.” He did. “I’m going to keep doing it.” He brushed his lips across mine multiple times. He brought his hands up to my face, met my eyes and suddenly I felt weak kneed. Another kiss, this one leaving me hungry for more.
“Aaah, there is what I wanted, that is what I missed,” he murmured.
“What?” I whispered.
“When you are really into it if I end the kiss - you touch your lips to mine one last time.”
“What else do you miss?”
“How your hair feels brushing my body as we make love, that shudder you make as you come.”
I gulped. Desire linked us closer. “I know you think I’m hard like a stone but I’m not. Right now I’d like to lose my self-control. I’d like to lapse back to being lovers even if just for the night.”
His lips hotly claimed mine. His hands pressed my hips into his. “Hanna, I want you so bad.” His mouth heated my e
ar and he picked me up without breaking the contact.
He lowered me onto the bed and the old springs creaked in protest. He knew my body and I knew his but we were different…I was different. I let go of the hurts and let myself love him once again.
Chapter 24
Tanner
Waterton, Alberta was a short drive north to the Canadian side of the park. I joked about waiting on cattle crossing the highway. “If that happened back in Florida you’d have a bunch of cranky New England snowbirds laying on their horns until a stampede progressed.”
We made it through customs with no problems and finally the brown prairie grasses gave way to the jagged, snowcapped mountains and deep blue chain of lakes in Waterton. We stopped at the visitor’s center, located a trail called Bear’s Hump that Hanna’s ranger friend recommended and then straight ascended with such a hamstring burn for a mile that I questioned my youth.
At the top, we stood on the smooth faced granite and like most of the hikes she had convinced me to take I appreciated the view.
She sat cross legged at the edge taking pictures. “Remember all those Ansel Adams’ posters in the art classroom?” Her voice hinted at something.
I nodded.
“I know he had the best equipment, waited for the perfect lighting, and perfected each shot but it isn’t the same. I mean if you hadn’t experienced seeing the mountains live with all the variations of color, and dimensions would you understand?”
“It’s a feeling, more than a vision.”
Her eyes lit up. “Exactly.”
I was talking about her as much as the land. I wanted to say it, but I held back thinking it would come off hokie. So many times all summer I wanted to freeze the moment. I kneeled down and snapped a cell pic of a speckled brown chipmunk sneaking up on her hand like a scene from Snow White. She got up and found a flat rise in the ledge where she balanced her camera pressing the self-timer. She ran back to me laughing and scooted between my legs. I wrapped my arms around her and in three blinks of the flashing red light we were captured.