What information?
“Uh, I did,” Wilder says. “I think I forgot to tell Scottie.”
“Ah, well, Scottie, send a quick text to your loved ones about where you are for the next eight days in case they need to get in contact with you. We have a pay phone that is available for emergency calls, but it’s monitored, so you’re not allowed to spend an exorbitant amount of time in there.”
A pay phone? Did we just road-trip back to the nineties?
“Okay,” I say, feeling like I’m losing a limb. I type out a text to everyone and then remember what Wilder said to me in the car. “Does Mika know how to get in contact with you?”
Wilder nods. “I talked to him this morning about it. He has all the information he needs if he has to get in touch with me. Thanks,” he says softly.
Feeling better about that, I send out a quick text, and then both of us turn our phones off, only to hand them to Sanders, who pockets them.
“Wonderful.” He clasps his hands together. “You will get these when we’re done with camp. Now, head on over to your coloring station by the far end of the dining area. You’ll have about twenty minutes to color your golf ball. We want to see you color it in a way that represents the love you share for each other.”
Okay…
“Sure thing,” Wilder says like a doof as he places his hand on my back, and then together, we head over to two wingback chairs that are placed side by side with a small coffee table in front of them. We are far enough away from the other couples that I feel comfortable whispering to him with no one lending an ear to listen in.
“Color our love? How does one do that?” I ask.
“Well, there are many possibilities,” he replies while he takes the ball from me. “For instance, we could interpret the assignment as a love timeline displayed in color.”
Interpret the assignment? Why do I feel like he’s way more into this than me?
“We can use a color for each line, telling a story of how we’ve moved about over the last few years, ranging from hot to cold. Love to anger.”
Huh, that’s actually a pretty good idea.
“Right, I forgot that you’re an art major.”
“Or we can use symbols, but that might be more labor intensive as we attempt to find symbols that could represent a marriage despite not knowing much about our marriage. A story timeline using color symbolization could really tell the story Sanders is looking for. But if you’re into the symbols, we can do those too.”
“Uh, I think the color timeline thing would be best.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Okay, um, what colors do we need?” I ask as I glance down at all the colors available for us to use.
He lifts the can of Sharpies. “Well, we can start with black, which could represent the time right before we met, because our lives were dark and colorless.”
I mean, that tracks for the beginning of a beautiful love story.
“Then,” he says, getting more excited, “maybe yellow for happiness, because that’s when we met. Then glow it up from there, going from yellow to orange to green.”
“Why green? Why not red?”
“Because red I think screams anger and hurt.”
“Oh, I assumed red because we were…you know…red-hot.”
He raises his brow. “Red-hot, huh? You saying we have a steamy sex life?”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Well, you did say you found me attractive, so I just assumed. And also, you mentioned it the other day during our therapy session.”
He nods. “Well, you assumed right, but that’s why I think green would be best for that period in our marriage, because green represents wealth, and that doesn’t need to be wealth in a money sense but a surplus of wealth in the mental capacity. Wealth in love. Wealth in marriage. Wealth in joy and happiness.”
Okay, did he take a crash course on marriage counseling before he came here? He’s so profound, something I did not expect in the least.
