Page 19 of Alive and Wells

“I want to focus on being here. And getting back to who I was before this. I’m going down to the river with the guys. Want to come?”

“Oh, honey, none of those boys are prepared to see me in a bathing suit. Best I stay here, I think.” She laughs, patting my thigh as she stands up to head back inside.

With my chest no longer constricted, I drop my cup into the sink and jog to the cabin to slip into my bathing suit. On the days when the guys will be out late, I’ve been going down to the rocky riverbank to read and relax alone. But having company, especially after such a strange day, will be a welcome change of pace. And I really do enjoy being around the cowboys. It’s what I imagine having twenty brothers might be like. Without all the horror that would come with havingthat manybrothers.

“Wow, she made it,” Red calls out from the boulder he’s spread out on, raising a beer in the air in salute. “Thought you hated us, Filly.”

“Quit calling me Filly.” I roll my eyes, setting out a towel on the least rocky section of the bank, and plopping down. “I don’t hate you guys—although, the nickname isn’t my favourite. Who would want to be named after a horse? Oh, right…. Sorry, Colt.” I smile over at him.

“Rude.” Colt shoots me a joking stink eye and I silently mouth him an apology.

“Ayounghorse though, Filly. Could be worse.” Denny snickers, sinking deeper into the water. I have no idea how he can be so vastly different from his oldest brother. Vibrant, loud, and carefree. Their middle brother, Jackson, is somewhere in between the two. More responsible than Denny, as a soon-to-be father of two, but more easygoing than tightly wound Austin.

Standing next to me, Colt strips his shirt to reveal harsh tan lines that make it appear as though he never took it off at all. His tall frame steps gingerly along uneven rocks to the centre of the flowing water before hopping into the sunlit wading pool. At some point in time, someone built a swimming hole out of rocks. The makeshift wall slows the current down enough that a sunny, hot day makes the water tolerable—compared to the cold, glacier-fed river, at least.

Red nods his auburn hair in agreement. “Exactly. We could go with a cow nickname, though. Do you prefer heifer?”

The other guys giggle as if heifer’s a naughty word. Honestly, I may as well be spending time around thirteen-year-olds, not men between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five. And rugged cowboys, no less.

“I prefer my name, to be quite honest.”

“No way, Filly. You helped brand 5,000 head. You’re a cowgirl now and you need a nickname if you want to be part of the crew,” Denny yells over the rushing water.

My heart swells at the notion that I could ever be part of this crew. I suppose I prefer being called Filly over City Girl, which is what they’ve been referring to me as up until now.Thanks to Austin.

“Bullshit. Only, like, half of you guys even have nicknames. But I guess if Ihaveto have one, I’d rather Filly over Sundial.”

“God, she’s ruthless. Maybe she should be called heifer, after all. Coming after a man who’s trying to mind my own business over here,” Beau Campbell, aka Sundial, shouts from further down the bank as he tosses a rock into the water. Colt’s skinnier, shaggier, younger brother. He apparently earned his nickname by “doing so much standing around on the job, you can tell the time by the shadow he casts”.

“Sorry, Sundial.” I laugh.

I lean back on my elbows, feeling the sun sizzling my bare legs. The smell of hot, tanned skin permeates the air, filling me with imaginings about childhood summers spent at my grandparents’ cabin. I’ve been yearning for slow, relaxed lake days ever since my last visit there at sixteen. At this moment, it feels like I’ve finally found it.

There’s that emotion again. Relief.

I regret getting a cell phone the moment I finish setting it up.Four hundredemails clog my inbox—ninety percent coming directly from KJ. I read the first two, which are filled with vague threats that make my heart plummet into my stomach, nearly erasing the respite I’ve spent weeks working hard for.

Don’t make me have to come looking for you. Enough is enough, Cecily. Don’t think you can leave me that easily.

Amongst the inbox trash, another familiar name sticks out. Sara Lyons.In the midst of everything happening, I practically forgot about the closest thing I had to a friend in Kerrisdale. We’ve never hung out without our husbands present—I haven’t been allowed any friendships not involving KJ in years. Still, it’s enough for me to feel bad about leaving her entirely in the dark for a full month.

Cecily:Hi, I wanted to reach out and let you know I’m okay. I got a new cell phone if you ever want to chat: (555) 259-8228. Please don’t give my number to KJ. I need my space. Thanks for being such a good friend to me.

I need my space.Barf.

My fingers linger on the keyboard, debating whether I should give her my phone number at all. Whether I should even bother contacting her. I’m tempted to write an email outlining the shit he put me through, so she can understand why I left. But old habits keep me taking on the blame myself. And I suppose it would be nice to hear a familiar voice.Screw it.I hit send and move on.

With my stomach already churning, there’s no time like the present to make a promised phone call. I wouldn’t have thought twice about calling a few years ago, but now it’s foreign and uncomfortable. Like cold-calling a stranger.

My mom picks up just before my call’s sent to voicemail. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, my God! Do you know how close your dad was to driving to whatever godforsaken small town you said you were going to? It’s been a month, Cecily.A month!”

“Sorry—I wasn’t trying to worry you guys. I’m safe. I’ve just been working hard.”

“When are you coming home?”

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