Page 68 of Years in the Making

Letting go of the wheel, I sit back and just look at him. Now this is uncomfortable. I’d rather be mentally undressed by every skeezebag out there than be stuck in this moment with Teddy. It’s just a giant spotlight on what used to be and what is now.

I sigh. “I know.”

“It was so easy in the beginning.”

“There’s more emotional real estate in between us than there was then. Our reunion was confusing, we checked every box you could check, and then we closed ourselves off. And now we’re spending hours in a car together to appease friends. We can’t force ourselves to go back in time.”

I watch as he worries his lip, his thumb running over the silver of his ring before finally looking back at me. “But do you want to go forward with me in your life?” he asks, each word deliberate.

Yes, I think to myself,but also no. “I don’t know yet. I don’t know the Teddy of today yet. And frankly, you don’t know me. I don’t know if I’ve changed all that much in general, but when it comes to you…” I let out a long, exhausted sigh and glance over at him. “Your choice has had an effect on how I conduct myself in relationships.” I put the truck back into drive. “Let's just get to the site and go from there.”

For the remainder of the short drive to the campsite, I remind myself that when it’s all out, it will stop feeling like we’re going in circles.

Teddy helps me get everything hooked up. I’d had a lesson and watched countless YouTube videos, but I had visions of doing something wrong. I was grateful for his help but even more grateful that he didn’t do everything like he was teaching me.

While he takes Kevin for a walk, I start making dinner. There was no kitchen in the trailer since all but the bathroom had been converted into shelving space for books, but I’d stowed away a bag of charcoal and various utensils for making meals. I refused to spend the next month living on restaurant food, not that I expected to be in the vicinity of many restaurants. We certainly wouldn’t be stumbling across a Starbucks anytime soon.

“There’s a lake about ten minutes down that trail,” Teddy says, coming around the airstream carrying a very tired-looking Kevin.

“Ah buddy,” I coo, standing from the pot of simmering broth, “are your little legs no match for Teddy’s?”

“He did okay, considering.” Teddy chuckles, handing him over to me and going to stir the pot. “Want me to toss the noodles in?”

I look down and realize that if we wait much longer I’ll have boiled the liquid so far down that there won’t be enough left to cook the noodles. “Yeah, probably a good idea.” I set Kevin down and can’t hold back a laugh when he immediately flops onto the ground. “Should I feed him?”

“I’ll do it after we finish. If he eats too early, he’ll have me up at the crack of dawn for breakfast.”

“Don’t you usually wake up at the crack of dawn?”

He nods. “I was hoping to learn how to sleep in again on this trip. And that won’t happen if this guy thinks it’s his job to wake the world at four a.m.”

“Four a.m.? Is that the crack of dawn?”

“No, but he doesn’t know that. I thought you were a morning person?”

“I am, but I’m not a dawn person,” I clarify, sitting in one of the chairs I’d unpacked. “And even then I like to stay in bed fora solid twenty minutes after I wake up before I get up and begin my day.”

“Can’t do that when you’ve got twenty-plus dogs barking below you.” Teddy grins at me, and I have the sudden desire to see him first thing in the morning. I’d seen it once, and it had been pretty glorious. But that was twenty-two-year-old Teddy. Thirty-four-year-old Teddy is a whole other level of delicious.

TWENTY-SEVEN

TEDDY

Nellie calls it a night early, and I can’t decide if it’s an avoidance technique or if she’s tired from the drive. I choose to believe she’s just tired.

I’m not ready to test out the back seat yet so I grab my book and read until my eyes are straining with only the dying firelight. By the time I force myself to get some sleep, the sound of mosquitos and the odd branch snapping are the only sounds around. I had hoped to hear a loon, hoped that maybe we’d gotten lucky with the nearby lake, but no calls come.

Tossing and turning on a back bench seat of a pickup truck is one of the least ideal ways to spend the night. I’d rather accept the disdain in Nellie’s eyes for the rest of the trip than sleep in here again. When dawn breaks through the trees, I officially give up and swing my body into a sitting position, rousing Kevin from where he’s curled into a tight sausage ring.

He stretches and gives a little grunt, and I reach down to scratch behind his ears as a consolation. “Sorry, bud. I think I jinxed us by opening my mouth last night.”

The morning is already warmer than I expected, and Idecide to change into swim trunks and a sweatshirt, snap on Kevin’s lifejacket, and head to the little lake we found yesterday. Nothing like a whole lake to yourself to start the day.

Except someone else seems to have had the same idea. There is a towel folded on a log and a pair of flip-flops next to it. I scan the water but don’t see anyone so take a few more steps towards the shore.

Nellie’s head breaks through the surface seconds later, and I can’t hold back my smile. She doesn’t notice me right away and glides across the smooth surface on her back, eyes closed, fully at peace. Of course, that’s when Kevin decides to lose his mind and goes bounding to the water, his hoarse little bark echoing across the lake.

“Well, now the forest is awake too, Kev, thanks.”

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