Page 4 of Aim for Love

“I’msaying,Hunter was really into you. You should go for it. Have a vacation fling.”

Nora laughs. “That would be so out of character for Mollie!”

“Exactly why she should do it!” Sophie insists. “Get out of your rut, Mollie!”

I wish my friends would stop talking about myrut.I don’t want everyone in this bar to know about my comfortable existence in which nothing extraordinary happens to me. Sophie recently got engaged and Nora got a promotion that shot her into the rarified air of six-figure salaries, so their energy is that of astronauts about to launch into space. I’m here to see them off on their journeys. And then wait for trip reports, like the little wife waiting at home.

That’s nothing new; my own mother raised me on phone calls home from her high-powered job. A single womanclimbing the journalism career ladder needed a quiet child who didn’t mind babysitting herself—finishing homework, making microwave dinners, putting herself to bed—as soon as she was old enough.

Sighing, I take another drink. My life isn’t so bad, but it has a different definition ofexciting.I mean, I almost cried when I saw the free dish of peanuts on our table when we sat down at this bar. Bars in the city where I live never offer free stuff.

Still, if exciting is this trip Nora and Sophie planned—forcing me to throw axes and ride bikes and hike into the woods and whatever else we’re doing—maybe I’m OK without it. Today had been embarrassing. I was so bad atthrowingthings. I couldn’t make my body do what my brain commanded. Even when Hunter patiently explained, repeatedly.

Nora and Sophie have moved on to talking about Sophie’s wedding plans. I’m so excited for her. Her fiancé, Chad—despite his stereotypical “bro” name—is good to her and respectful of her friends. When I see him, he always remembers to ask about something I’d mentioned during the last visit. In my life, that’s usually something dumb like the work baby shower I’m dreading or a new coworker I’m training even though they’re higher up the chain of administrative power at my law firm than I am.

Chad and Sophie got engaged on a trip to Hawaii, so Sophie’s having a hard time picking a honeymoon location. It’s hard to hate Sophie, even though her problems are one-percenter issues. She’s constantly terrified her good fortune will disappear and has been in therapy for anxiety since high school, when we first met.

Nora is the one who pushed Sophie to go to therapy in the first place. Nora, who says things like “let’s take the emotion out of this and analyze it logically,” has never found a problem without a solution—usually one she comes up with. Using an opened napkin on our tiny high-top table at this bar, she’snow mapping out a spreadsheet for Sophie to select the perfect honeymoon location based on factors like weather, difficulty traveling, available activities, and “memorability.”

If I were picking, I’d come here for a honeymoon. God, it’s gorgeous here. We rode an actual gondola to get to this bar—a 12-minute ride up the mountain and to this adorable village that I bet is a snowy delight at Christmas time. It’s a planned community, all the buildings matching each other and mostly hotels, restaurants, and vacation rentals. I can’t deny the perfection of the facade. The mountains in this part of the state are startlingly close, jagged because they’re the newest range in Colorado—as I read on a sign when we left the gondola—and still lightly dusted with snow despite being the middle of summer. This little town nestled in the middle of them couldn’t be more idyllic.

At least my friends are distracted from convincing me to “go for it” with Hunter, the hot guide with the kind blue eyes behind glasses who managed to teach me how to throw an axe. I hit the target one time and stopped there, not wanting to ruin the high of my success with another dozen bad throws. He’d been so kind to me, like maybe he wasn’t going to go home after and make fun of the incompetent girl with his other guide friends.Maybe.

The idea of Hunter making fun of me after being so kind makes me slump in my seat.

“Mollie, I’ve decided to make it my mission this week to get you more excited about life again,” Nora says.

Uh oh.I’ve seen Nora on a mission many times. She doesn’t give up. I admire her so much, with her daring haircuts and intense focus on everything she does. And she also scares me.

“I’m notnotexcited about life,” I protest, lying. My two best friends since high school stare back at me, holding their beers and saying nothing.

“OK, well, sometimes life isn’t that exciting and that’s OK. Sometimes you’ve got to just…be a good human and try to get a good annual review at work.”

I’d recently gotten my annual review at work. I got “meets expectations” across the board. Even my job thinks I’m boring.

“But not this week,” Nora insists. “This week, you get excitement. It’s your last hurrah before you turn 30. You’re going to try biking and hiking and white-water rafting and you’re going to kiss a stranger.”

Cringe. None of that sounds like me. “I am?”

“Mollie!” Nora makes a face at me. “You have the agenda.”

I do; Nora color-coded it. “Kissing a stranger definitely wasn’t on there,” I say, and press on before Nora promises to find a slot for it on our week-long schedule. “I just want to hang out with you guys. We never get to hang out like this anymore.”

Nora and Sophie both reach out and grab my hands, then link hands with each other so we make a circle around the little table like we’re about to pray, even though none of us is religious. “I know; I miss you guys so much,” Sophie says. Sophie is moving out of state with Chad. Nora is always busy. I’m the one with all the free time that I spend, mostly, on my couch binge-watching every rom-com show that The Powers That Be grace us with. I talk to my mom a lot on the phone. I love my mom, but she’s addicted to being the boss—the person people come to for answers—and it keeps her busy. Even though we live in the same city, we rarely meet up in person.

“And I’m so excited we’re doing this friend-moon before our lives get even more crazy,” Nora agrees, graciously including me in the craziness. There are no big changes onmyhorizon. “But this trip is really for Mollie. Don’t you agree, Sophie?”

Sophie nods, her pretty face earnest. “Yes. Mollie, we worry about you. You haven’t found yourthing.”

“Mything?” I repeat. Nothing about this trip isforme. I would have picked a relaxing beach, I think, not an “adventure” trip.

“Yes, your passion,” Nora agrees. “The passion that gets you up in the mornings.”

Briefly, I think about how many times I hit the snooze button during the week. How do my high school friends still know me so well when we’ve barely seen each other for the past few years? “I do OK,” I protest, even though a voice in my own head—traitor—tells me,the lady doth protest too much.“Anyway, I don’t think axe-throwing is mything.”

Sophie and Nora exchange a look. They both know I was terrible at it. “Well, no,” Sophie agrees diplomatically. “That’s why you’ve got to keep trying things until you find something that is!”

Good God, they’re really going to force me to stay out of my comfort zone all week. The back of my neck starts to sweat. I’d signed onto this week of “adventure” to spend time with the friends I never see anymore. I have the best intentions to try everything on the agenda Nora and Sophie signed us up for. I’d even tried training for the mountain biking at that horrible spin class! I had also figured I could bail on any activities that terrified me. I don’t want to be trapped into doing everything Sophie and Nora do; they’remuchmore adventurous people than me. I mean, look at Nora’s hair! “Um,” I say weakly. “You really don’t have to worry about me.”

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