Wolfe’s a year younger than Logan, and he’s been a part of my foster family since he was a freshman in high school. So, even though he’s a lot older than me, he feels like more of a newcomer. On top of it, he signed up for the Army straight out of high school, and he’s reticent as shit.
Built like a tank and one scary-looking motherfucker, he works security to great success. Based on looks alone, no one will cross him. Most of my conversations with Wolfe involve me talking and him grunting.
God knows what he’d have to say about my current predicament. Unlike Logan, he’s a lot more empathetic and would probably just declare me a dumb shit and sit in silence. I’d take that over Logan’s merriment any day.
Skydivers line up, both experienced and guides going tandem with tourists. Filing out into the great blue, they follow Wolfe’s command, “Exit! Exit!”
I pull on both gloves, helmet, and goggles in four efficient moves, and Logan puts his helmet on. Fortunately, the dive flow is a no-plan jam, so I don’t have to put much thought into my exit or break.
I wait my turn before crouching down and diving the door, heading into the deep blue like I’m launching headfirst into a pool. The thrill of racing across the sky like an eagle is unmatched.
My chute snivels for 1,000 feet, making for a super buttery opening. The wind likes to whip through this valley, so I crab my canopy at an angle against the current, creating a slower downwind flight across the ground. I usually like things rough and fast, but maybe there’s a part of me putting off seeing Logan’s ugly mug again.
I land on my feet nice and slow. Between the big adrenaline dump and increased dopamine and serotonin, I should feel fucking amazing, like I just conquered the world. Should, but I don’t.
Logan lets out a big “woohoo” as he always does after a jump. People think I’m an adrenaline junkie, but I’ve got nothing on him. Wolfe is a good distance away, quiet as ever. Every move he makes is efficient and methodical, no doubt a reflection of his time as a Ranger.
Numbly, I remove my goggles and helmet before gathering up my canopy, careful not to drag it on the ground. Then, we take our gear back to the packing hall and write in our logbooks. My mind wanders, and I find it difficult tobe as detailed as I should. I’ve got to get Faith off my mind, which doesn’t prove easy as I pack my rig.
Of course, being around Logan doesn’t help. When my face burns, and I actively fantasize about punching him in the stupid face, Wolfe intervenes. “Alright, change of subject. Who wants to go fishing?”
Logan looks at his watch, shaking his head, “I guess you two are taking the day off, but I better get back to work. We’re running a training exercise today.” Unlike my seasonal wildland firefighting gig, search and rescue work keeps him busy year-round
“Training on top of training?” Wolfe grumbles, raising an eyebrow.
I shake my head because I don’t feel like saying another word to Logan right now. Of course, I’ll get over it. We take a lot of pleasure in antagonizing each other. It’s just this particular topic sits way too close to my heart for comfort.
“Yep, all in a day’s work.” Turning to me, Logan apologizes, “Bro, I’m sorry I had a couple—okay many —laughs at your expense today. But you should know to leave well enough alone when it comes to Faith.”
His apology only ticks me off more. “Because I’m not good enough for her, you mean?” My voice holds more emotion than I mean it to.
Logan stares at me long and hard. I can practically see the lightbulb go off in his head. “Shit, you really do have a thing for her. Don’t you?”
“No, shit,” Wolfe replies, shaking his head.
“Sorry, dude.” Logan cups my hand with his shoulder, and I can see the authentic apology in his eyes, even as he continues to fight a smirk. As he leaves, I sigh in relief.
Wolfe looks concerned and slaps my back. “Let’s see what we can catch.”
WE SIT on the banks of Fugitive Lake, holding our rods and going through the motions of fishing. But really this is just how you get Wolfe to talk.
Normally, I prefer stream fishing, but that season won’t start for another couple of weeks. I feel my phone vibrate in the pocket of my Wranglers, and I pull it out. As much as I’d like to ignore it, fire season has trained me to be ready for anything. Heck, I’ve already got my Jeep gassed and equipped for when I get the first call.
Looking at the screen, the name shocks me. Faith. I shake my head, pressing the ignore call button and put it back in my pocket.
Wolfe grunts, “You’re not going to get far if you quit talking to her.”
“I could say the same to you,” I reply, staring at my motionless fishing pole. Wolfe and his wife Izzie are estranged and barely talk to each other. I keep waiting for their official divorce announcement, but I don’t want to pry. Because of Faith, I now realize matters of the heart are complicated and painful, sometimes beyond words.
“Yeah, but Faith is obviously in a talking mood. I can’t tell you the last time I had a call from Izzie apart from discussing the kids’ custody schedule.” His face scrunches, delivering the last sentence, and I can tell it upsets him. I also sense he doesn’t want to talk about it.
I’ve never been a man of few words, which is part of what’s gotten me in my current situation.Why stop now?“I never had trouble with women as long as I was playing around. Never lacked for confidence or anything. But now that it actually means something, I’m an idiot. Saying the wrong stuff, reading her moves wrong. Hell,it’s fucking with my head and my confidence. At least if I stay away, I can minimize further damage.”
My brother nods, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he listens. A strong stretch of silence follows. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little butt hurt over one rejection? You said it yourself. You fucked up and said something stupid. I mean, she did let you kiss her.”
The sound of the lake’s waves and birds singing declare the advent of spring. The Sierra Nevada Mountains tower in the distance, rugged and icy with an overabundance of snow.
I don’t know how to explain it, but kissing her actually makes all of this worse. That physical connection raised the stakes in ways I can’t quantify other than the throbbing ache in my chest. “Yeah, but the past year hasn’t just been one rejection. It’s been thousands of them. She won’t stop friend zoning me and taking me for granted. She doesn’t want to be seen out with me in public, and I also feel uncomfortable about the way she acts around her church people versus the rest of us. It’s like she leads two lives.”
