The Thousand Mile Love Story

by Natalie Vivien

  Andee opened and shut her mouth. She gazed up at Robin. This was it. It was time.

  She nodded and did not speak.

  The five minutes had begun.

  Robin took Andee’s hands in her own, holding them tightly as she gazed down into Andee’s face, as if she were memorizing every line and curve of it. “I am so, so sorry if anything that I did in the past hurt you,” she murmured, then, and the floor, the walls, the world seemed to fall away from Andee. All she could see was the blue of Robin’s eyes; all she could hear was the soft sound of Robin’s voice, faltering but continuing, the scent of Robin’s warm cologne all around her, embracing her. “But I promise you... I promise,” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice trembling as she growled out the words, “I did not sleep with that woman. I never spoke with her before that night. I can’t tell you why she was in my bed, because I promised I’d never say, but I did not sleep with her. I didn’t touch her. I never would have cheated on you. I loved you with…” Her voice cracked, and as Andee gazed up into Robin’s eyes, she was surprised to find that they were filled with tears.

  Robin never cried. Robin was one of the strongest women Andee had ever known. But now, Robin was weeping.

  “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I loved you with everything that I was. I know I’d just told you all that that night before…the night before it happened. But I’d been meaning to tell you for months. I loved you, And. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I could stand here,” she said then, breathing out, “and tell you that over and over again until I’m blue in the face. But it all comes back to whether you believe me or not.” She slumped a little, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. Your five minutes are up. You did pretty good. The shrunken heads are proud.”

  Andee breathed out, closed her eyes. “Why can’t you tell me why the woman was in your bed?” she said then. The words were so soft, Robin had to lean forward to hear them.

  “Because I made a promise,” was all Robin said, words mysterious but grounded and low. She sighed. “You have to believe me. I can’t tell you what happened. But you have to believe that it had nothing to do with me.”

  Andee gazed up at Robin. Robin, who had always been nothing but kind to her. Funny, sweet Robin. Mischievous Robin, who would go out of her way to avoid hurting anyone and anything. Robin, who had planned this entire road trip, Andee was realizing, so that they could have another chance together.

  Robin, who Andee knew, through and through, that she still loved with all of her heart.

  Robin stepped forward, brushed her lips softly over Andee’s mouth. “Just think about it,” she said, her voice cracking again. And she let go of Andee’s hands, placing her fists in her pockets, and she walked out, past the museum attendant, and out the front door.

  Andee felt the earth reeling beneath her.

  She thought about it.

  ---

  Andee didn’t remember much of Niagara Falls. It was big and loud, and she’d gotten wet as she stood in the spray, but she didn’t remember how she moved, talked, functioned, or how she got back to the car. Robin had left the museum and didn’t meet up with them again until they were ready to leave, and when they all got into the convertible together, Robin gave Tiffany the address for that night’s campground in a monotone, not looking at Andee as she gazed out of the side of the car tiredly.

  They drove, the backseat silent, Tiffany and Jill in the front talking about everything from movies to fashion to Emily and Leila.

  They drove for four hours.

  The scenery was a blur to Andee as she looped over everything a thousand times in her mind. She remembered her hurt. She remembered how many times Robin had tried to explain to her that she hadn’t slept with that woman. Part of Andee regretted deeply that, all those years ago, she’d been unable to believe Robin. And part of Andee wondered if she could believe her now.

  The scene kept playing out in her head. The woman had been naked. Had been accepting a cup of tea, or perhaps coffee, from Robin. The top few buttons of Robin’s shirt were undone, and the woman’s hair had been messy, like they’d just been… Well. Andee swallowed, rubbed at her eyes with clammy fingers.

  Everything kept looping, and it all came back to a single, still point:

  She wanted to believe Robin.

  If she wanted to believe her enough, she would.

  And maybe she already did.

  They got off the exit on the Thruway for Herkimer, New York. They drove through the little town and reached the campground that looked like every other campground that Andee had camped in when she was small. There were no Bigfoots here.

  They already had a reservation, and it was already paid for. As Robin dragged the tents out of the trunk, as Jill began to spread one of the tent canvases out, it was Andee who walked up to Tiffany, who cleared her throat beside the redhead squatting before the fire pit, blowing on the tiny burst of flame.

  Tiffany stood, brushing off her hands, a single brow raised.

  “Can you come with me? I want to go to the campground store…” said Andee loudly. “I would like to buy some candy.”

  Tiffany’s other brow rose, but she hid her smile and nodded. And, together, Tiffany and Andee walked as quickly as they could away from the campsite.

  “What—” began Tiffany, but Andee pressed her finger to her lips, waited until they were far enough away down the gravel path that there was no way possible Robin could overhear.

  “She told me the truth,” said Andee, going pale as she stared down at her friend, Tiffany’s hands on her hips, her mouth open. “And I believe her.”

  Tiffany blinked. She breathed out slowly.

  “Would you and Jill sleep in the same tent tonight?” said Andee. She felt herself pale, and then blushed.

  Tiffany’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, and then she did a tiny, ridiculous dance in front of Andee, her hips moving backwards and forward as she pumped her arms in the air. “Freakin’ finally,” was what Tiffany said then, sighing out for an entire minute. She went limp with relief. “And yes. Yes I will.” Her eyes practically twinkled as Andee and she continued down the path, Tiffany occasionally chortling to herself like a crazy person.

  In the camp store, between the M&Ms and the Hershey bars, sat a box of Skor bars.

  Of course.

  Andee bought one. And then another, putting the candy bars in her pocket as Tiffany loaded up the counter with beer. In a haze, Andee walked back to the campsite, where the two tents were erected, where the fire burned merrily, where hotdogs were already being roasted, and where Robin glanced up at her, eyes wide and bright and hopeful.

  They ate the hotdogs and the thousand s’mores, and they banked the fire, Tiffany whispering something into Jill’s ear that made Jill perk up, glance across the campsite at Andee with a huge grin. And then, somehow, Tiffany and Jill had disappeared into the one tent.

  And Robin and Andee sat around the softly smoldering fire.

  Alone.

  Andee’s heart was beating so fast, so hard, as she crawled into the tent, Robin not far behind her, that she wondered if Robin could hear it, this crescendo of pounding through her head and every inch of her skin as Robin knelt close enough, rolling out her sleeping bag, so that Andee could lean forward, wrap her arms around Robin’s neck, and pull the kneeling woman to her, over her as Andee laid back down, Robin pressing her body to Andee’s length. Their lips met.

  Andee felt everything, tasted it all as Robin’s mouth moved against hers, as Andee opened her eyes, as she watched the outline of Robin in the darkness, Robin who shrugged out of her leather jacket in one smooth, graceful motion, causing Andee’s skin to burn as Robin slowly, carefully, began to unbutton Andee’s blouse, her fingers brushing against the skin she found there. Andee worked at Robin’s belt, making an impatient sound, and then Robin was over her again, pressing her to the earth as her mouth found Andee’s, as they met and merged, Robin’s fingers in a thousand places at once, Andee
’s skin singing everywhere Robin’s body met hers.

  At first, it was slow and deliberate, how Robin’s mouth moved over Andee’s skin, along her jaw and neck, taking soft kisses and trailing a path of warmth down to Andee’s collarbone, as Robin’s hands gently pulled down Andee’s bra straps over her shoulders, as Robin’s knees nudged open Andee’s legs, and Andee welcomed her over her, against her, wrapping her knees along Robin’s sides as Robin’s hands, now, worked at Andee’s jeans button and zipper, as she put her fingers under the band of the jeans, against the skin of her hips, pulling Andee’s pants over her rump, down her legs and off. She pulled them away, leaving Andee cool against the cool night air, the night air that was warming in the tent as Robin gracefully bent down again, capturing Andee’s mouth with her own, Andee sighing out. Robin over her, the shape and shadow of her, made Andee’s heart break and heal and break again. Andee had dreamt of this moment a thousand times; Andee had hoped for this moment more often than she’d realized. She’d wanted this moment more than she knew.

  When Robin’s tongue found her right breast, Andee pressed her fist to her mouth, biting against the skin there, trying to swallow the moan that almost escaped her lips. When Robin’s fingers, tracing sweet patterns across Andee’s stomach, dipped down into Andee’s warmth, Andee shuddered and breathed and tried to swallow the sounds that she whispered into the dark. When Robin’s hips moved down against Andee’s, meeting them perfectly, curve for curve, as if their bodies had been made for one another, Andee breathed out, and a soft moan escaped her. She couldn’t help it. Every inch of her glowed, pulsed, growing brighter, it seemed, as Robin moved over her and with her, touching and caressing and kissing and tasting.

  Robin paused then, her mouth in a kiss over Andee’s heart. She pulled back, crouching over, her body pressed against Andee’s. Andee couldn’t tell if it was her heartbeat racing so quickly, or Robin’s

  “I’ve missed you,” said Robin’s voice, heavy with longing, low and growling into her ear as she trailed her mouth up in a pattern over Andee’s neck. “I’ve missed you,” she repeated, her fingers reaching gently into Andee again as Andee arched beneath her, as Andee’s neck rose up to meet Robin’s mouth, as Andee breathed out, the pulsing moving through her so quickly and brightly now, all she was felt good, felt right.

  “I love you,” Andee whispered brokenly, pressing her hands, her fingernails, into Robin’s shoulders, as Robin moved over her, moving with her. Together.

  ---

  They woke early enough to see the sunrise, laughing quietly as they pulled on clothing and went for a walk, Robin’s arm around Andee’s waist. They strolled to the edge of the canyon they’d camped alongside. It wasn’t much of a canyon, but the sunrise over the edge of it glowed brilliant with a thousand colors, and Andee realized that this was beauty. This. With Robin standing beside her, pressing her lips to the top of Andee’s head as Robin held her close.

  “I waited for you,” said Robin softly, words deep and low as she murmured them against Andee’s ear. Her mouth found Andee’s again as she tipped up Andee’s chin, ran her fingers through Andee’s hair. Andee’s heart beat too quickly, but it was such a lovely sensation.

  Everything was bright and dazzling as Andee and Robin went back to the campsite. Jill and Tiffany still weren’t up, so together they gathered up new clothes, old towels, and made their way to the shower house.

  Surprisingly (maybe because it was a Wednesday, and early at that), there was no one else in the shower room. Andee, shivering under Robin’s intense gaze, stepped into one of the stalls and began to take off her clothes. Robin stepped inside with her, pulling the curtain closed, head to the side, eyes appreciative and dark and needing as they raked over Andee’s body.

  They heard someone on the stairs outside, and Robin sighed with regret as she slipped out, and Andee stepped into the shower, turning it on as cold as she could to make her own need calm down.

  She thought about the previous night, blushed in spite of the cold. She felt herself sore in places that felt good to be sore. She felt full in her heart. She felt…everything. She sighed as she scrubbed at her hair, at her body, letting the water cool her. Andee stepped out of the shower changed, remade.

  Happy.

  Ridiculously happy.

  She pulled on new clothes and went into the shower room proper, toweling off her hair as she took out her hairbrush from her little bag on the bench. Inside of Robin’s bag, something vibrated.

  “That’s just my phone,” called Robin from inside the shower stall, her shower already off. She was probably getting changed.

  “I can answer it if you like,” said Andee, folding her towel around the tips of her hair and squeezing to get all the water out. She picked up the phone. The caller ID said only “Kimberly.”

  Kimberly?

  “Yeah, sure,” said Robin, and Andee held the phone up to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Rob,” said Kimberly, bright and cheerful on the other end of the line. She hadn’t recognized Andee’s voice. “Listen, real quick, do you remember Monica? You know, the sexy one…” She laughed, making a suggestive sound. “She wants to see you again. Would you believe it? She remembers you, and I know she caused you some trouble, but…”

  “Monica?” said Andee, feeling the world fall away from her.

  “I mean, you’re not doing Andee, right? I doubt that she’d let you back into those tight little pants of hers, considering. Monica’s the one who started everything, remember? So, I have this plan…”

  Andee dropped the phone. She stood, her head reeling.

  “What is it?” said Robin, stepping out of the shower.

  She wants to see you again…

  Andee stared up at Robin, her sense of peace falling away.

  She brushed past her, even as Robin called after her. It was all playing out again. Again.

  Robin had lied to her again.

  And Andee’s heart, mended along the cracks, split in two.

  --- Destination: Love ---

  Andrea Shaw knew it was going to be a bad day. Period.

  “Andee? Andee, wait!” called Tiffany, but Andee stalked right past her best friend—who stood open-mouthed by the campfire pit—and past Jill, who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes and crawling out of the second tent. Andee marched beyond their camping space and the green convertible beached beneath the oak trees until she reached the entrance to the nearest hiking trail. She didn’t notice the towering pines growing all around her, the hills sloping up on either side or the gravelly path she now found herself treading.

  At that moment, Andee didn’t notice anything but her own heartache.

  Last night had been amazing, everything she’d ever dreamed of or could have ever hoped for. She’d gotten back together with the woman who, ten years ago, had broken Andee’s heart into a thousand pieces. Robin had been the love of her life, and ten years hadn’t been long enough for the heartbreak to heal. But they’d talked it through, sorted it out. Robin had told her the “truth:” that she’d never slept with that woman in her dorm room. That there was a perfectly rational explanation for the presence a naked woman in Robin’s bed, and it was something Andee would just have to trust her on.

  And Andee had trusted her, which was the worst part.

  Andee had trusted her, and it turned out that Robin had just been lying. Again.

  Because there was that phone call…

  Andee broke into a run, tears blinding her as she inhaled deeply, following the trail without really seeing it. She ran until she just couldn’t run anymore. She found a sturdy pine with a wide trunk, and she crumpled beneath it, leaning against the rough bark as she panted, staring up at the pointed branches overhead.

  “You know,” said Tiffany, panting behind her, standing on the path with her feet apart and her arms crossed, cheeks puffed out, “you could have picked a less steep trail for those of us in heels.”

  Tiff really was wearing her heels. And s
he had run behind Andee. Had followed her.

  Andee felt like a petulant child as she stared at her best friend through her tears. “I just want to be left alone,” she finally mumbled, trying to choke back her pain.

  “That’s not how it works on road trips, darlin’,” said Tiffany, but there was an edge to her voice. She sank down beside Andee, leaning against her as they both stared out at the woods. “Now, what the hell could possibly have happened to destroy paradise again?”

  “Oh, Tiff…” began Andee, tears falling faster as they rolled down her nose, plunking gently onto her arms. She leaned forward, breathing out.

  “It can’t be as bad as all that,” said Tiffany in a no-nonsense tone. But then she softened, rubbing Andee’s back with a gentle hand. “Come on, And. It can’t be as bad as all that.”

  “I should have never come on this trip,” said Andee, shaking her head. “I should have never—”

  “Look,” said Tiffany, clearing her throat. “I love you. I’ve loved you when you were brilliant and when you were ridiculous. But you can be so ridiculous sometimes.”

  “Ridiculous?” Anger overpowered Andee’s complete despair. She turned and stared at Tiffany, biting her lip as the diminutive redhead stared her down, green eyes flashing.

  “Yes,” said Tiffany, with utmost sincerity. “You… You’re the most mopey person I’ve ever met! If…if they…” She was spluttering, her hands waving in front of her, eyes glinting dangerously. “If they made moping an Olympic sport, you’d be the ten-time gold medal winner!”

  “That’s not even a good insult,” huffed Andee—still insulted. “And I don’t mope. What the hell? Moping? Is that what you think this is?”

  “What the hell else could it be? Jill and I heard you last night, by the way, despite how quiet you and Robin were trying and failing to be.” Tiffany tilted her head back triumphantly. “After that sexy of a time, how could you be mopey the next day?”