Page 74 of Anywhere with You
“I love you, you little jerk,” I told him.
When I went back inside, Cara was waiting, still and wide-eyed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out,” I said. “My dog had a seizure.”
Cara put both hands over her mouth. “Badger? Is he okay?”
I smiled and let out a breath that I felt all throughout my body. “Yeah. He’s fine.”
* * *
We got a later start back to the hot springs than we’d planned, but we hurried into our still damp swimsuits and left the house by nine a.m. Cara had even found a portable patio umbrella stand and bright pink umbrella, so we could have some shade. It had a strap, so I slung it over my shoulder for the walk down the trail.
Halfway there, I took her hand.
“You can go, if you need to,” she said after a while.
“Go where?”
“Home. If you want to take Lane’s boss’s offer and fly home on that rickety airline or whatever.” She shrugged. “I’d understand.”
“Very tempting,” I said with a laugh. “But no. All I want is more days here with you.”
I tried to feel as sincere as I sounded. I did want to get home to see Badger. I ached to see his ugly little face for myself and know he was okay.
But there was also a lot that I had to do when I got home, and if I could just have a few more days, a few more days of not opening the letter on my desk, a few more days of ignoring my problems before I became a divorcee and a failed business owner. And probably homeless.
But for the first time, the thought didn’t entirely overwhelm me. Cara had been right about how different the world seemed, how much bigger, after this trip. Or I guess, this half of a trip.
If I had to, I could find another path for myself. There were plenty of them in the world, just waiting.
For a moment, I let myself imagine them. I could go back to school and study something new. I could sell whatever I had left and travel until my money was gone. I could look for jobs overseas.
It was easy, even in a place as huge as Houston, to let the world shrink down to the places you’d already been, the people you’d already met. But there was more out there. So much more.
Our trail ended at the quiet clearing, the only sound the wind, the surface of the water emitting its familiar mineral scent.
“God, it’s lovely here,” Cara said, and all my muscles began to relax. Sometimes you needed someone to remind you, someone like Mary Oliver to sayStop and see.
Cara immediately wiggled out of her shorts and T-shirt and sandals and put her feet in the water. I watched her, enjoying every expression, every soft, happy sound.
She slid down fully into the water.
“Did you see the projector in the living room?” I asked. “We should watch a movie later. I bet there’s popcorn in the pantry.”
“Mmm,” Cara said, sinking down to her chin.
“It’s hard to have a conversation with you when you’re this relaxed,” I mock complained.
“Mmm, partly your fault,” she muttered, eyes closed.
I grinned and went to set up the umbrella.
We spent an hour floating, soaking, moving in and out of the umbrella’s shade. I didn’t want to rush her or to assume, but when she finally reached out to pull me to her, I was giddy. I bit her earlobe, her neck, her shoulder, licking the hot water off her skin.
Cara reciprocated. Soon, we were both hungry and panting, hands and mouths desperate.
“Wait,” I gasped, tugging at the clasp on the back of my swimsuit.
