For the Best

by LJ Scar

  Retrieving the camera she reviewed the shots. “What do you think?” She turned the digital image for my approval.

  “I think it’s perfect.” I pulled her close for a kiss and whispered, “I love you.”

  She echoed it back, “I love you. I love you more now than all our yesterdays.”

  “Is that good or bad.”

  “Definitely good.” She laughed.

  We descended at a tentative jog trying to stay surefooted over jutting rocks and gnarled tree roots. Bypassing the car we trekked across the highway to this cool old lodge called Prince William Hotel. The wind was so brutal it could have swept Hanna off the bluff and after taking in the somewhat stuffy old world interior we gave in to the call of hunger.

  We drove into town for linner, Hanna’s term for lunch dinner combo. Short of Kalispell this had been my closest destination to what I would have actually called a town.

  Two chicken wraps and a pot pie later we accessed the free computer usage at the café we dined and both networked for a bit like normal. She typed a lot and mentioned Della several times although I got the impression she contacted other friends as well.

  I sent my roommate a pic of me and Hanna on the trail. He instant messaged.

  Dude, hot does not describe her. Tell me you’ve convinced her to return to the swamp.

  Still working on it. How would you feel about a third roommate?

  Stoked

  “What are you smiling about?” she leaned over and asked.

  “My roommate thinks you are very attractive.” I winked and noticed her closed expression.

  “Do I know him?”

  “No. You’d like him.” I reached for her hand and held it. “I noticed a lot of hotels on this strip had vacancies.”

  “Did you now?”

  “Would you be interested in sharing a decent shower for the first time in months and taking advantage of high rent privacy?” I raised my eyebrows up and down teasing.

  “Are you suggesting some afternoon delights?”

  “I’m suggesting using up every hour alone with you behind a locked door with enough insulation to allow for audible reckless abandon.” I put my mouth on hers smiling as our lips met.

  “I like that suggestion.”

  I left her in the car, didn’t bother to bargain, and laid down a credit card at the registration desk.

  The room wasn’t plush. I wished it had been less motel and more hotel but Hanna quickly threw off the comforter, turning down the sheets. I laughed, more turned on that she wanted me as much as I her.

  I pulled the curtains closing out the daylight. Sunshine peeked out from the hem reminding me of the early hour.

  She took my t-shirt bunching up the fabric until she pushed it up my chest where I pulled it off quickly. She slowed down, hesitated on taking off her own clothes. Finally, she stood nude in front of me in sacrifice for pleasure. Lifting her I took her to bed.

  Sleepily, I watched Hanna get up and tiptoe to the shower. We’d made love over and over. I couldn’t get enough of her. The way she moved against me washed my mind in the euphoria taking her drugged used to stir. Guiltily, I remembered.

  Junior Year

  I stumbled into her bedroom stoned and horny.

  “Tanner?” She sat up confused by my presence. I watched in lost focus as the sheets fell away from her.

  I didn’t give her a chance. I pounced knowing she wouldn’t say no.

  Stimulants and little blue pills kept me up. I was so angry - mostly at myself. For sitting around a party with a bunch of guys who joked about wanting to fuck my girlfriend while I laughed acceptingly like it was a compliment that they coveted Hanna. Eventually, I endured and came for her, taking out my misery on her. I was a side effect, an erection lasting more than a few hours. I only stopped when she began crying.

  I returned to the present and went to find her in the shower. Climbing in, I lathered her with soap and washed her hair keeping her under the warm water’s spray vowing I’d never hurt her again.

  Chapter 25

  Tanner

  On Iceberg Lake Trail, the melancholy sadness of summer coming to an end hit me hard as we took our final hike in the park. Long and strenuous, we trekked silently as I carried her mother’s remains. The climb, the morning chill, the threat of claws, nothing distracted me from the grief of losing her.

  We emerged at the beautiful alpine lake hemmed-in by sheer cliff walls. Even in late August the icebergs floated in the blue waters. Soaking in the magnitude of saying goodbye to each other as well as her mother was killing me. Frozen water breaking echoed as we watched one fairly large iceberg calve and roll over, triggering a significant splash and ripple across the lake. It seemed like a sign that the time had come.

  She smiled up at the sky, but her body language belied her pain. Standing at my back, she unzipped my pack and removed the urn. I watched as she unscrewed the lid and shook the ashes into the wind. Caught in restless air, they drifted like smoke, quickly dissipated. Nothing remained.

  I thought back to the night after the funeral. I tried to comfort her that night but her sobs were frightening, keening moans of loss. I went to the medicine cabinet down in the kitchen and found some valium. I was never even sure if she knew I gave her two with a cup of green tea hoping to soothe her. Then I took a couple for myself. I should have endured better, been stronger for her.

  This time I was. I slipped my hand down her arm until I was grasping hers, hoping my touch would give her strength and comfort. A sob broke from her and my heart ached. Relinquishing her hand, I wrapped my arms around her from behind resting my chin in the divot of her collar bone holding her as her tears subsided.

  The waters flow seemed to become louder. The lake floor was shrouded in morning mist. The thundering sound of nature and the breathtaking view calmed her.

  Finally she spoke, “I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I left. For months I knew you and I should end, but I was depressed. I couldn’t let go.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you go.”

  She nodded. “I got that. So I did the leaving.”

  “Things are different now. I’m different. Please come home with me Hanna,” I begged.

  “Tanner you’re only a sophomore. We need to try and forge our own lives for awhile.”

  “But my life IS yours,” I argued.

  She turned in my arms and gently ran her thumb across my jaw. I let her think. The morning sun was burning away the mist. So many answers sought by me had gone unanswered. How long could the love she had for me last?

  “Why won’t you stop drifting?” I asked.

  The answer was evident in her eyes. “I’m not drifting. The world won’t stop turning for you without me.” She linked her hand into mine.

  “You are done here in a month. You haven’t mentioned where you’re going next.”

  “Because I don’t know.”

  “Then join me at school and figure it out. You don’t have to attend classes. Just come and be with me while you decide.”

  She held tight not relinquishing my hand and began to walk in silent contemplation. At the trail post she turned. “We never did Highline Trail.”

  “No, we didn’t.” I failed to not sound irritated.

  She laughed. “You’re pissed?”

  “A little.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I’ll come home for you. I can’t promise to stay.”

  Chapter 26

  Hanna

  I arrived back in a state I’d sworn never to return. Crossing a vast concrete ensnarement of travelers passing endless windshield hours in a deadened wide eyed coma probably brought on by caffeine, nicotine, and glaring billboards every five miles that offered a breakfast buffet in a strip club.

  An hour and half later, I exited I-75 following signs to the campus. The starry sky gave way to the tree lined streets, and rows of unkempt student rented houses. A light was on in a window. I wondered if it was Tanner’s bedroom. His last text was that he had waited u
p for me.

  Was Tanner lonely, wishing for summer to have never ended, hoping I’d come round? I opened my door, retrieving my overnight bag and hesitantly approached the door. I didn’t want to wake a roommate but this was college, and campuses never slept. Just as my finger aimed at the brightly lit button that would chime for a visitor the door swung open to frame Tanner bare-chested in pajama bottoms on the other side.

  His arms reached for my waist and my feet left the ground. “That took forever!” he exclaimed.

  “Forty eight hours including the five hours I’ve slept in the past two days.”

  He shut the door behind me as he ushered me inside. “Tell me what you need.”

  I followed him past a small tiled living room with a galley kitchen view of particle board cabinets laminated in white. We entered a bedroom, his judging by the familiar items and pictures. He eased my bag on the floor.

  “The bed. The bed is all I need.”

  “No food, no drink, no hot shower?”

  “Okay maybe the shower,” I conceded.

  He watched me gather a toiletry kit from my bag and he grabbed a clean towel from his closet before he left me in an aging bathroom where shiny pink and gray tiles circa 1950 adorned both the floors and walls. I found the right temp and let the hot water wash the aching miles and fast food waste off my skin.

  With my wet hair wrapped in a towel and a XXL Glacier Park sweatshirt hanging so big and low on my body you couldn’t tell if I was wearing shorts underneath I went back to his room. He had placed a steaming cup of tea with some powdered confection Danish wedding cookies beside it on the nightstand. I took a sip, then a bite and sat on his bed curious as to where he’d gone. I hugged my knees to my chest slipping the bulky shirt over them.

  I heard the front door open and he came back dangling my keys. “I went to make sure you didn’t have anything worth stealing in view. People keep getting their windows smashed in for pocket change around here.”

  “Is it that bad of a neighborhood?” I asked. The street looked tired but not criminal.

  “Shit happens.” He shrugged.

  Without asking, he pulled the towel from my head and stroked the wet strands until they were only damp. As he squeezed the tendrils, he rubbed my head with the cotton. The effect and my weariness were hypnotizing.

  Tanner’s arms were wrapped around me caught in an abundance of XXL fabric. We spooned side to side one of his legs trapped between mine. His door swung open and three strangers barged into the room.

  Befuddled with sleep, Tanner rubbed his eyes. “What the fuck? Who let you guys in?”

  “Door was unlocked. We’ve been tailgating all day. Only an hour till kickoff. We expected your ass there.”

  I slid my legs from the mattress. I saw their eyes follow. Tanner stood, shoving them out of his bedroom. He came back in, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “No big deal.” I could hear the guys in the living room apparently not leaving without him.

  “They’ve got an extra ticket. You up for the game?”

  “Sure.”

  I watched as he switched his flannel bottoms for jeans and a t-shirt. I pulled off my sweatshirt hearing his laughter as he figured out underneath was a tank top and shorts. Explaining, I said, “With Kali as a roommate all summer I slept dressed. I never knew when I might need to leave. Guess old habits die hard.”

  We reconvened with the group in the living room. Shots lined the counter. Tanner padded barefoot by them with me trailing reaching for a Gatorade in the fridge.

  He introduced me and smiles exchanged. They were less compromising than his high school friends, but they still checked me out. I didn’t blame them for their curiosity. Who wouldn’t question what attributes could endure a relationship from elementary to college?

  “The problem with excess is that it eventually appears moderate and you convince yourself that you have not reached your limit.” Tanner’s friend was preaching drunken philosophy regarding the merits, or was it non-merits of drinking?

  I’d done three shots prior to kickoff, a few chugs of a boda bag filled with rum. Tanner was always close partaking the same amounts but effectively remaining sober as if my safety and sanctity depended on it.

  As we jostled with waving arms doing gator chops multitudes of limbs bumped and pressed reminding me of open air dance clubs in daylight. My inebriation pulsed throughout my circulatory system. I chilled then heated, faltering between exhaustion and elation. The bottled water Tanner kept handing me couldn’t satiate me. I would start to sober thinking the water I drank was working much like a dried fruit left to soak. Rehydration only served to stimulate my slowed circulation and the drunkenness increased.

  The kiss cam passed over unsuspecting fans as the televised game commercials aired for the viewing audience. We laughed as it recorded shy children, jokingly pausing over students dressed up as Gumby and Pokie pretending to be entwined in a passionate kiss. Then it passed over us - Tanner, me and friends. One of his friends on my right seemed to be leaning towards me. Then Tanner’s hand cupped my neck and pulled my attention from the big screen scoreboard to bestow me with a kiss. Not a sweet peck for the audience but a jealous kiss claimed before unsolicited lips could encroach uninvited. The crowd’s roar of approval quickly abated and Tanner released me to ponder what was to come.

  Chapter 27

  Tanner

  Hanna seemed to have won over my friends, especially my roommate. He could probe and open up places she wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t really get it. She answered him easily as if I hadn’t posed the very same question several times before.

  “How’d you end up in California?”

  “I had a list of places I wanted to see. When the place I had been got old, I moved on.” That was the abridged version she gave me but for Dan she purged, “My roommates - everyone worked in the restaurants, bars or on the lifts. Down time was one endless party. I got tired of it. So my one friend from Cali suggested I come there.”

  My head shot up. The ring of a cell phone interrupted. She checked the screen and muttered, “Speak of the devil,” and hit a button to send the call to voice mail. I watched her dismissively return to her novel as if there was no pertinence to the conversation she and my roommate had just covered.

  I picked up where Dan left off. “Did you go by yourself?”

  “More or less,” she answered. “My friend led me to the job at the winery. I found a place to stay over the internet.”

  “Guy or girl?” I asked jealously.

  “Guy. His name is Ansel.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  Her mouth fell open and she didn’t disguise her anger, “I think we went over this in the summer.”

  “Did you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “We slept together but we weren’t lovers.”

  I could take that literally or metaphorically. I chose the latter. “So what made you leave Ansel?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Different paths.”

  I convinced her to come to a few classes with me, trying to get her to give college a chance. My schedule of courses for the semester was Landscape Management, Architectural Design 1, Botany and a social/behavioral science elective. She was curious and took it seriously. I could feel myself drifting under the droning professor in Botany. She showed more interest than my classmates when we categorized deciduous trees. She’d been quietly observing me and another classmate pouring over the text when I asked my partner a question. Hanna offered up the answer like she’d been in the class more than once and as I marveled at her correct response the girl I’d spoken to shot Hanna a glare.

  Not long after she whispered, “I’ll meet you outside.”

  After class, I found her studying the community bulletin board at the building’s entrance. She had a couple of pull tabs stuck in her hand. A few jobs caught my eye and I got excited thinking she was going to stick around. I also noticed a few Ride Share notices where students were looking to share drive time and
gas to get away. I didn’t ask her what she took because I didn’t want to worry about the inevitable, when she’d pick up and leave.

  Hanna

  I’d taken a job, promotional work for a beverage company marketing new products at university events. Of course, we had to set up off campus usually in front of a bar that was serving the concoction inside. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t twenty-one. I was only supposed to offer tastings with another co-worker. We had to wear t-shirts. White with the logo of the drink and a pair of short nylon black shorts. No matter your size the company issued extra small t-shirts for the events.

  Tanner wasn’t thrilled with the gigs. I wasn’t either but at $100 untaxed cash for three hours on a few Saturdays I was on board.

  The crowd kept taking the cups mixing rum or vodka in without a pretense of drinking the promo untainted. The distributor was faux marketing the nutritionally void beverage as vitamin, natural, organic, antioxidant boosters. The real effect was coupled with alcohol it shot through your bloodstream faster than an epi-pen injection.

  "I heard a rumor about you Hanna." My co-worker, an annoying girl named Tuesday, was spouting words that she had no idea at their impacted connotation.

  Some guys were congregating in the barricaded street out front. “Pass the pigskin.” I heard one bark like a drill sergeant. His backups scurried.

  "What rumor?" I asked.

  “Hanna, look out!" Tuesday warned me as the ball spiraled airborne to crash on our demo table splattering drinks and splashing us. The catcher barely stopped in the nick of time and narrowly missed squashing me flat. She and I cleaned up spilled cups as he apologized.

  Irritated but nonplussed, I looked underneath the tablecloth where we kept our supplies for another shirt. Nothing. I repressed a sigh disgusted by the wet sticky mess wetting my t-shirt.