Page 25 of Delayed Intention
As I’m finishing, I hear a soft knock at the door. The idea of Josh being outside my room almost sends me running to hide. I’m not sure why, since dinner seemed to go well last night.Get over yourself already.I force myself to get up and open the door. It’s not like I can pretend I’m not here. I take a deep breath and woman up, so to speak.
“Hi.” He’s standing there looking like a mash-up of the doctor from Northern Exposure and David Beckham. I’ve forgotten how to speak and am just standing here. God help me,just say hello back.Use words. Now.
“Hello.”There you go. Don’t forget to breathe.“Would you like some coffee? I am almost ready but wanted to drink a quick cup if that’s okay?”
He smiles at me from the doorway, “Sure, okay if I come in?”
I realize I’m blocking his path.Get a grip, Lily.“Oh, yeah, sorry.”
I think he can tell he makes me nervous, which he seems to find amusing since he’s fighting a smile while he fixes his cup of coffee. I still don’t have my cup of coffee, but I take three large steps out of the tiny kitchen to give myself some space to get my internal crap together. Any minute now. “I’m just going to go get my boots,” I call from the door to the back hall and practically run into the back bedroom.
“Do you want me to fix you a cup?” He calls from the kitchen.
“Sure, thanks, cream and two sugars, please. They’re on the counter.”Wonderful. I do well as long as I’m talking to him from another room. I take my time, lacing up my hiking boots, hoping to settle my nerves. Returning with my pack in hand, I join him at the little dining table just outside the kitchen.
“This place is nice; you’ve got a great view of the river.”
“That’s why I chose it. I love the river. I have an app to play the sound at home, but it isn’t the same.”
“I imagine not.”
“Where were you thinking of hiking?” I ask as I plait my hair into a braid.
“I thought we’d go to Emerald Lake if that works for you, but I know you’re coming from sea level, so I don’t want to challenge you too much. We haven’t had much snow yet this year, so it’s still a dry trail.”
“Emerald Lake sounds perfect. I packed granola bars and a bottle of water. Do we need anything else?”
“I brought some sandwiches, if we aren’t too cold and want to stop. Peanut butter, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Josh—I’ll just grab my coat.”
The drive up the mountain is quiet. A mix of early 2000s hits is playing, and I wonder if it’s for my sake or if he always listens to this, but I don’t ask. Surprisingly, the lack of conversation made me feel comfortable, and I started to relax. Following the horizon with my eyes, memories of taking this drive in years past come to me. The very air here fills me with a sense of becoming more solid, and I sigh deeply. We pass a few meadows before the trees start to narrow the road ahead. Little groups of elk look bored, watching our progress up the road. There are a few clouds, but overall, it’s a sunny day with bright blue skies.
We park at the foot of the trail, and before we get going, I put on some gloves and zip up my jacket. Once we start to hike, we’re in the shade of the towering pines, making it feel colder than it did before. The first climb to Nymph Lake is fairly steep, and the burn of the hike warms me up. It feels harder to keep going than it looks like it would, probably in part due to my jet lag and the thinner air. The occasional glimpses out of the trees as we make our way are worth it. There are mountains with cloud cover below their peaks and snowy caps—each view looks more like a postcard than something real.
As we continue on the trail, we start to talk. First, we chat about work and the kinds of medical issues we typically see. Then we move on to Ginger and how Josh had rescued another pit mix before her that died two years ago. He was connected with Ginger last year, just when he was feeling ready to adopt again. Then, somehow, we delve into the past. Josh talks about how his father hasn’t been in his life since 2005. His parents did end up divorced, and afterward, his dad started a new family in Kansas City. Josh and Michelle have never met them. By some unspoken agreement, we don’t talk about what happened between us. I start to get the feeling he’s fishing for something, but I am aware I’m not great at reading people, and I decide not to ask. I go back to not saying very much since I’m getting winded as we climb.
“Lily, do you want to take a break? We’re almost to the lake, but there is a great rock for sitting just ahead. You can catch your breath.”
“If you don’t mind.” I do need to rest, but I’ve also been afraid to sit down. I’m worried about where the conversation is heading. I am not ready to talk about our past. But what else should we talk about? What I want to ask him is about his love life, because… I want to know. But then I don’t want him to ask me about mine. Because that will lead back to the thing I don’t want to talk about the most. I’m not hungry, but I decided I’m desperate for a peanut butter sandwich because it will make talking nearly impossible. I wish I didn’t have to stop and catch my breath, but there’s no helping it—it’s entirely necessary.
We turn the corner and sit next to each other on a large rock. I pull out my water bottle and start drinking for something to do while he hands me a sandwich. I feel him turn to look at me, so I stop and look right back at him. After a pause, I decided to start by stating the obvious.
“I’m glad we had a chance to do this hike—Dream Lake and Emerald Lake are some of my favorite sites in the park, and it’s been years since I’ve seen them.”
“Happy to oblige.” He taps a finger on an invisible cowboy hat and smiles at me again.Will I ever stop being nervous around him?
“Lily?”
“Mmm?” I respond with a mouthful of water as I wash down a bite of a peanut butter sandwich.
“When are you going to stop being jumpy around me?”
Did he just read my mind?Startled, I inhale in a gasp and choke for what feels like the better part of a minute. Josh is pounding me on the back, and I miserably wonder how long it would take to die from aspiration pneumonia, so I don’t have to answer his question. Still alive and wheezing a few minutes later, I decide on the truth because I can’t think of anything else to say.
“I’m sorry,” I start, holding up my hand to stop him from telling me not to say sorry again, “I had a mouth full of water and sandwich and you asked me exactly what I was thinking, and it freaked me out.” Tears are still streaming from my face. Good thing I don’t wear makeup.
“Are you okay?”
