by B. E. Baker
I love Rob.
I said it last night, but I’d say it again today, over and over. I’d never in a million years have chosen this activity, this nightmare of an event that challenges me and the box I fit into now, but I’m glad I came. I’m glad that tonight, when guests ask me what I did today, I can tell them we hiked the Wai Koa Loop.
How Trig’s mouth will drop.
I encounter a few muddy spots as we near the Junction, and I’m happy enough to retire Gladys to the security of a large flowering bush. “Not that anyone’s going to steal a wheelchair,” I say.
But if they did, I’d be devastated.
“Better to make sure there’s no temptation or confusion,” Rob says. “Water won’t hurt her, right?”
“Nope.” I sit calmly on the ground while Rob stows Gladys, and attaches his harness. He hands me a water bottle while I wait.
“Where’d that come from?” I ask.
“The harness doesn’t fill the entire backpack, goose.”
“Goose?”
“Worse than Kiki?” he asks. “Or better?”
I love that he’s trying on nicknames for me. “I didn’t hate Kiki,” I say, “but goose is better.” I have no idea why it’s better, but it is. Maybe because it’s something people say to kids with fondness, and I never had that. Mom never called us any silly names, and my dad called me sweetheart consistently. Still does. I wish he didn’t use the same nickname for all his girlfriends. It feels like he can’t keep more than one term of endearment straight, and I hate being lumped in with them.
“Let’s try it for a while, then,” he says, “Goose.”
I giggle.
He squats in front of me. “Ready?”
I reach my arms around his neck and he lifts me up, fastening my legs into the straps one at a time. “You sure you’re down for this?” I ask. “A hundred pounds gets heavy pretty quick.”
He laughs. “You know there are porters in Peru who carry more than this and they weigh a third less than I do.”
I sigh. “If you’re sure.”
“Trust me. This will be a good workout, but nothing that I’m unprepared for. Wai Koa’s not a hard hike, and there’s basically no elevation.”
I squeeze my arms around his enormous shoulders and kiss his cheek. “Alright, my big ox, let’s go then.”
“An ox and a goose?” he asks. “It makes no sense, so of course I love it.”
So do I.
But not as much as I love the feel of Rob carrying me at a jog along the trail.
“The Stone Dam,” he says, not even sounding winded, “is supposed to be the coolest thing on this entire hike, but it’s been down for renovations or something for a while. I guess the trail gets too slippery.”
From the safety of Rob’s back, I watch the foliage fly past. From flowering plants to palm trees and fiery red trees I’ve never seen before, the trail boasts some stunning vegetation. I only wish I knew more about plants. I can identify a few of the fruit trees when we pass the Kauai Fresh Farms. And the Lagoon isn’t quite what I’d expected, but even if it’s small, it’s still lovely.
When a tiny blue sign comes into sight, I read it out loud. “Don’t lose your head.”
Fifty yards down, there’s another sign.
“To gain a minute,” Rob reads.
Another sign up ahead. I read, “You need your head.”
Rob laughs when he sees the last one. “Your brain is in it.” His shoulders shake. “Not the wittiest author, but entertaining, at least. And hey, it rhymes.”
It’s not hot, but it’s a little muggy, and Rob’s shirt dampens everywhere I’m touching him. Hardly surprising with the way his legs are pumping and his back muscles rippling. Watching him jog reminds me of the perfect movement of a clock.
“How are you holding up?” I ask Rob.
“Am I grossing you out?” he asks. “I’m sorry. I maybe should have warned you that I’m a sweaty guy, but I was worried it would scare you off.”
I laugh. “I love it. You’re perfect.”
“Not even close, but if you’re not shuddering, I’ll take it.”
I watch his legs pounding beneath us, his arms shifting back and forth, the muscles in his neck, and his pulse. I wish I could capture every bit of it. I pull out my phone and take a selfie. Once he realizes what I’m doing, he stops and turns so the foliage is behind us. When he smiles for me, something inside of me melts.
I snap way too many photos, and I keep my phone out after that. I wish I’d thought to photograph the Mahogany forest, but I don’t mention it, or Rob will jog us back. I know he will.
Wonder of wonders, the Stone Dam is open.
“It’s been dry,” Rob crows. “That must be why!”
He doesn’t hesitate to take us down that off-shooting trail, and when the Stone Dam opens up to view, I gasp. “The sign says each stone was broken down by hand and laid individually in place.”
It looks like a long, gorgeous waterfall, with two large triangles jutting out at one-third and two-thirds of the way across. The water spills down over them at a diagonal, pouring out further and then dropping straight off on the sides.
“Amazing.” I sigh.
Rob turns and takes a selfie of the two of us, my arms around his neck, my face smiling, the dam in the background.
“I didn’t really want to come,” I say.
Rob nearly drops my phone. “Why did you? I said the beach was fine, but honestly I’d have been okay sitting at the hotel. I just wanted to be with you.”
“I thought you wanted to hike. You made a special harness.”
He returns my phone with a sigh. “You’ve got to tell me what you want to do. I’d have picked the beach myself. Closer and easier to coordinate.”
I laugh. “Neither of us wanted to come, and here we are. We’re a terrible pair, huh?”
Rob can’t twist his head like Gumby to kiss my lips, but he drops a kiss against my cheek. “I think we’re a great pair, and I’m glad we got confused and came. If nothing else, that photo’s going to look amazing framed on my desk at work.”
That thought warms my heart. My photo, proudly displayed on his desk, for everyone to see. His girlfriend Brekka. Not a secret, not a phantom or just some girl he’s flirting with. His girlfriend on his back, in front of a dam, on a hike.
“You are going to send me all these, right?” he asks.
“What will I get in exchange?”
“What did you have in mind?” He starts to jog again, moving slowly toward the exit. “Name something and the answer is yes.”
I can’t think of anything at first. “Let me have a little time to contemplate a fair price.”
“The travails of having so much money that you literally buy anything you can possibly imagine. You realize, this means you’ll be absolutely impossible to shop for.”
“Oh, my brother might have mentioned that a time or two.”
“I’m creative. Did I mention that?” Rob asks.
“You might have,” I say. “But I’m pretty creative too. Because I think I know what I want. I want you to move to Colorado.”
The second the words fly out, I want to snatch them back. It’s almost exactly what Geo told me to ask for, and what I swore I wouldn’t ever say. After all, I don’t want him to move to Colorado just because I asked.
Rob doesn’t speak.
Now I’m worried it might be worse if he refuses me. I swallow and close my eyes.
“Look at the guava orchards,” he says. “Aren’t they spectacular?”
I respond, but I can’t recall what I say two minutes later. Who cares about guava orchards? I ruined our entire afternoon with my completely inappropriate demand.
A few moments later, we reach the Junction and I see the bush where Gladys is waiting. Rob sets me down, but I stop him from assembling her for me. I scoot over until I’m next to her and assemble her myself. I need to do it alone, with my hands, and not have it done for me. By the time she’s assembl
ed, I lever myself up and onto her seat, and I’m wheeling toward the exit.
How could I have taken something so perfect and smashed it to bits? It’s such a Brekka thing to do. Broken girl who smashes everything. It’s so obvious and predictable.
Rob jumps in front of me on the path, his hands splayed in front of him. “What’s going on right now?”
I pull up short, barely in time to keep from barreling over him. “What?”
“You and I are jogging along, having what I thought was an amazing time. Then you completely close off and won’t meet my eye. And somehow we’ve entered the Indie 500 and you’re sprinting to get back to the mini golf place. Is there some timeline I didn’t hear about? Because by my watch, we’ve got four hours yet until the ceremony, which is plenty of time to drive back to the hotel, shower and get ready, even if I were doing my hair all curly and fancy and putting on make-up I didn’t need.”
I frown. “You think I don’t need make-up?”
He sighs. “I stuck my foot in it on that one. I’m sure whatever you do will be lovely, with make-up or without. But my point is, what did I do or say wrong?”
Does he really have no idea? He’s not that clueless, right?
“I asked you to move to Colorado. You ignored me.”
“Oh, you were serious?” His eyebrows lift. “I thought you were kidding.”
I close my eyes. Why didn’t that possibility occur to me? Of course he’d assume I was kidding. Trading a few selfies for a cross-country move isn’t a reasonable suggestion. I could kick Geo for planting this idea in my head to begin with. Or, you know, I suppose I can’t kick her. But if I could move my legs, I sure would.
Rob folds his arms in front of me and nods. “If you’re really asking me, then yes, I’ll move to Colorado. I’d need to wait until I could transition my job to a manager who I trust. My family will understand since there’s a compelling reason for me to leave. And you are the most compelling reason of all.”
Geo’s a genius, and I hate her for it. Because now that Rob’s willing to do exactly what I asked, I realize I don’t want him to move to Colorado. Not at all.
24
Brekka
My mom made insane demands of my dad. I don’t recall all of them since I’m the youngest child, but I remember enough. Mom would insist on Parisian food. Brought to her. Dad would fly to Paris and back, but by the time he made it back, she’d have eaten a sandwich and gone to bed. Somehow it was his fault for taking so long on a plane.
Once Mom wanted Dad to plan a perfect family vacation. She was sick of always having to set up everything herself. He talked to Disneyland and booked an entire day for our family. No one else would be present. I have no idea what that cost. Millions, I’m sure, and then Mom had a meeting come up. Dad tried to explain what he’d planned, but it only enraged Mom. She didn’t want him to buy out Disney! That was frivolous and stupid, especially since the other people are part of what makes it all so magical.
If Dad went up, Mom screamed for down. If Dad said dark, Mom only wanted light. No matter what Dad gave, it was never enough. I never considered myself to be much like my mother, but now I’m not so sure. Because I asked Rob to move to Colorado, and now that he’s willing to do exactly what I said I wanted, I want him to take it all back.
Because Rob’s a giver, and that makes me a taker.
Geo said it herself. He gives and gives and gives. She doesn’t think he resents the person who takes over and over, but how can she be sure? And even if he doesn’t resent me now, he will. First it’s move to Colorado, give up your family, your friends, and your job. Then what? Give up your normal hikes. Your normal counters and floors and mobility. Then it’s give up your vacation plans, since I’ve got to work. Then it’s up when he says down. Dark when he says light. Parisian food, until it takes too long and I’m sleeping alone and we’re yelling at each other.
I’d almost rather die than turn into my mother.
I finally realize that I love Rob, and then I discover that he and I may be fatally flawed. I can’t even stand, but if he won’t stand up to me, we’re doomed. He needs to be able to demand something for himself. He needs to ask me to move to Atlanta.
Because if he doesn’t, we’re doomed.
“When would you want me to move?” he asks. “Is October soon enough?”
“Actually, I might have been a little hasty.”
He tilts his head like he’s misheard me. “I’m sorry?”
“Now that we’re talking about it, I don’t think you moving to Colorado is a great plan.”
He nods his head slowly. “It’s fast, that’s for sure.”
“Right. Too fast, don’t you think?” Say no, say no. It’s not too soon. It’s the wrong direction. It’s all Rob’s sacrifice and none of mine.
“But eventually, you see this going that way?” he asks.
Does he mean with him moving to Colorado? Or with one of us moving? “I’m not sure.”
Rob kneels in front of me again. “Do you see yourself with me in five years? Ten?”
I do. I absolutely do. “I’m not sure. I mean, we don’t even live in the same state. And we don’t have much in common.”
Rob’s face shutters like a beach home preparing for a hurricane. “That’s true, we don’t.”
He stands up and doesn’t say another word while we head for the entrance of the park. The cab is waiting for us when we reach the main road. Rob helps me transfer and loads Gladys up without saying a word. He doesn’t slide over next to me on the seat, and he doesn’t take my hand.
What did I say?
We don’t live in the same state. Simple statement of fact, and the topic of our entire conversation. Then I said we don’t have much in common. I close my eyes. Because he’s not even a college grad. He’s not rich. He’s a Marine who sells cars.
Oh, Rob.
I reach for his arm, but when my fingers brush his forearm, he flinches and I shrink back to my side.
I open my mouth to say something, but I’m not sure what to say. Even if I coax him back into talking to me and touching me and kissing me, which I want desperately, unless Rob changes who he is, unless Rob can suddenly demand what he needs, I’m not sure this will ever work. After all, my parents must have loved one another at some point, right? They didn’t start their marriage twisted and damaged like they are now.
When we reach the hotel, I still haven’t figured out what I can say to repair the breach. Or whether I should even try.
“I had a great time,” I finally blurt out.
“Me too.” Rob turns toward me, his eyes soft. “Thank you for coming.”
My heart yearns for him to pick me up and carry me up to my room and throw me down on my stupidly hard mattress. I want him to toss his rules out the window, and tell me he needs me in his life, in Colorado or Georgia or on Mars. I want him to convince me that it doesn’t matter what I think, or what I fear, or how different we are, or how messed up my parents have become.
But he’s Rob.
Rob doesn’t conquer or dominate or force. It’s not who he is, and it’s not who he’ll ever be. Rob carries, and lifts and supports. He can’t be what I’m wishing for. It would destroy everything I love about him all at once. I turn away from him and that wounds him even more.
What’s wrong with me?
Rob walks alongside me all the way to my room. Once I’ve opened the door, he half bows to me, like I’m royalty and he’s my honor guard or something, and walks back down the hall. It feels like someone’s shredding my heart, one ventricle at a time. Why can’t Rob demand what he needs? Why can’t he insist I meet him halfway? I’ll do it, I want to scream. Just tell me what you want, so I know we won’t turn into carbon copies of the unhappiest marriage I’ve ever seen.
But he doesn’t, of course. Rob would never demand anything like that of me.
So I wheel into my big, gorgeous suite and sob into my pillow until the very last moment. Then I drag myself up and put my makeup on,
and change into my sky blue sundress. I wheel myself to the door, and then down the hall. I take up my place at Geo and Trig’s wedding like a robot, smiling when I should, and murmuring the right things to everyone.
It’s not until I see Geo walking down the aisle that something cracks my shell. My brother is getting married to the girl of his dreams, to someone I adore. I’m so happy for them. And so I set aside my despair. I set aside my fears and my selfishness and I watch as Geo, the most show stopping, the most generous, the most peerless bride I’ve ever seen walks serenely down the aisle.
Her colors are perfect. Sky blue and black and silver. Her eyes shine brighter than the sapphires on the collar around her neck, a custom designed piece from Trig. Her hair falls in an ebony cascade down her back, a stark contrast to the snowy white of her veil and gown. She’s not dressed like a cupcake: no frills, or beads, or embroidery, and not a speck of lace. No, her pure white, sleeveless silk gown fits her simply, a shining sheath that hugs her immaculate figure and drops to a long, draped train that flows out behind her like a smoothly shimmering waterfall. She clasps a simple bouquet of blue delphinium and delicate white snowdrops in her hands.
But her eyes never leave Trig’s face, and he’s beaming like he’s President of the World. It’s everything I ever wanted for my older brother.
They each prepared their own vows. Trig goes first.
“From the very moment I clapped eyes on you, I haven’t wanted anyone else. But as incomparable as you are on the outside, your parents named you perfectly. You’re truly like a geode. Your exterior is practically dirty and scuffed and dull compared to the sparkle, the magic and the brilliant beauty hiding inside of your head and heart. I have no idea why you put up with me and all my fumbly, bumbly mistakes, but for some reason you do, and I wake up every single day marveling that you’ve agreed to live with my flaws forever.”
Trig takes Geo’s hand in his.
“Thank you for helping me see when I’m being an idiot, and forgiving me when it takes me a while to grasp that insight. I promise to cherish your outside and your inside every single day, every single hour, and every single breath for the rest of my life.”
