Page 64 of Anywhere with You
“Of course you would,” Cara said with a little laugh. “You don’t have the kind of mind that can be satisfied with the same old boring story. Even if you told the same one twice, it would be from someone else’s perspective. We know what Poseidon thought of Cassiopeia, but what did she think? What did her daughter Andromeda think? By the time you were done, we’d have the whole story.”
“Thanks?”
“It’s a compliment, believe me. As for me, I’d remember thosestars and that they were Cassiopeia, chained to a chair and destined to drown. I’d remember, and pass on the story, and add nothing new.”
I wanted to disagree with her, but I wasn’t sure how. Maybe Cara didn’t see herself as creative, but that was fine. Not everyone was.
But she loved new experiences, even when they scared her. And she had planned out this adventure for us with almost no notice and a very limited budget. And she sang along to the songs on my playlist.
Maybe she wouldn’t add to the stories, but they wouldn’t be the same without someone like her to clap and laugh and try to understand them in her own way. They wouldn’t be the same without her.
I didn’t know how to say any of that, so I asked her questions about aliens and how far the planets and stars were and what dark matter was and whether it was real, to which she reliably replied, “I teach biology, not astronomy.”
The temperature continued to fall.
I sank lower, covering my chin and lips and breathing through my nose. I was about to say that we should probably go back to the house, when Cara broke the silence.
“Nine years, and he never washed a dish.”
I sat up, sure that I’d gotten water in my ears and misheard her. “He what?”
“We’d talk about it. He’d say, what’s the big deal? He’d say, why are you getting upset? And nothing would ever change. Eventually I gave up.”
She stared out at the night without moving, hardly seeming to breathe.
“It’s just one thing. I mean, there were lots more, but it’s what I keep thinking about. I told my mom once, and she laughed it off. It’s just dishes, after all. I didn’t know how to tell her that it was this small thing, but it was every day of my life. Every day, he was saying that his time was more important than mine, that he chose the convenience of a live-in servant over changing this small thing that bothered me. If I’d given it to him, if I’d said I don’t mind dishes, just leave them in the sink, then we could’ve been happy. But it wasn’t something I gave. It was something he took from me, just a small piece, every day of my life.”
I reached over and took one of her hands, holding tight to it under the water.
She didn’t pull away. “Honestly, that was one of the best parts of him cheating on me. Suddenly, he wasn’t around after work. I’d cook and eat and clean up, and it made me feel lonely, but that was still better than how he made me feel when he was there.”
I didn’t move, just listened.
Cara shook her head. “I’m silly. I know.”
“No,” I said immediately, fiercely. “You’re not silly. You’re right. You tried to communicate, which is all you could do. He was a shitty partner. That’s all.”
Tears fell from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks and chin to plop soundlessly in the hot spring.
“Cara, you deserve someone who communicates, too, someone who respects you, and who loves you more than they love themselves. Cara Espinoza…are you listening to me?”
She nodded, and I held her hand until her tears stopped.
“Thank you,” she said at last. “Thank you for believing me and not brushing me off.”
“Well, you are quite the drama queen.”
She gave a soft, wet laugh. “I’m also a compulsive liar.”
“Really?”
“No.”
I laughed, and after a second, she let go of my hand and pushed me playfully, smiling.
“I can’t believe we spent all these years not really being friends,” she said. “I mean…”
“I know. Me, too. We could’ve been hanging out and having fun while Bridget and Lorenzo were being boring.”
