We start the hike and it’s all uphill. An hour in, I feel like I’m going to die. By the second hour I want to throw myself off the cliff we are on. Who knew being in hockey shape would not be the same thing as being in hiking shape? Four hours and I’m panting and sweating like I just jumped into a shower and walked out. “That was fun,” Kylie says sarcastically. “We should do that again.”
“Okay, you have thirty minutes of free time,” the instructor announces, “and then lunch.”
“I’m fucking starving,” I complain and she laughs, looking down at her feet. “I need to change.” We walk back to the house, and I jump into the shower as she sits outside looking at the mountains. I want to say lunch is a big hearty fucking steak, but it’s a kale, cabbage, avocado, chickpea salad with a lemon drizzle, with a side of corn bread. I thought I was going to choke. “When we get back home,” I look at her, “I’m having the biggest burger known to mankind, with bacon,” I announce, my stomach grumbling. “Double bacon and cheese.”
“When we get back home, I’m blocking your number,” she declares, and I wrap my arm around her neck and pull her to me. She puts her hands on my sides. “I’m not kidding.”
“I know where you live,” I remind her, and I bend my head to kiss her.
The rest of the day continues just as the itinerary said. Pilates is her jam, she does it like a fucking champ. Meanwhile, my legs were shaking the entire time. The snack after that is two slices of apples with some sort of peanut butter in the middle. I want to say that dinner is better, but it’s a zucchini soup and then an eggplant squash sort of patty.
That night she walks out of the shower and I’m sitting on the wooden bench, right outside our door. “That was nice,” she says, sitting down next to me wearing the white robe they had hanging in the bathroom. I’m wearing the other one. “It’s so quiet,” she observes, putting one foot up on the bench. “What are you doing?”
“Thinking of all the stuff I’m going to eat when I get home,” I answer her and she laughs as I put an arm around her and she puts her head on my shoulder. “What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?”
“Three weeks,” she shares, “maybe a month.”
“What?” I’m shocked.
“I’m not a relationship type of person.” She moves away from me and leans her back toward the side of the bench and puts her feet in my lap. “What about you?”
“Twelve years,” I answer. “Do you think you’ll want kids?”
“Probably not.” She shakes her head. “It’s just a big commitment.” She takes a deep sigh and then adds, “I don’t know if I’m deserving of it, but do I merit bringing someone into this world? Do you want more kids?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I answer her honestly. “It would have to depend, I guess, on if the other person wanted them. It’s not just a decision I can make on my own.” I rub her legs. “Why don’t you and Kirby have the same last name?”
“I was adopted by my stepfather when I was younger; he didn’t want to be.”
“And you did?” I ask her and she shrugs.
“I didn’t really get the choice. I was too young to even know what it really meant,” she admits softly. “I didn’t even know my father. He died when I was just a baby. I have pictures with him but no memories.”
“Did you get along with your stepfather?” I ask her and she turns to look off into the distance.
“I thought I did.” She trails off and I can feel her hiding something from me, closing herself off. It’s like I can hear the door being shut, not letting anyone in. “Were you close to your sister before all of that happened?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “She moved here not long after we did. We used to do things together all the time.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I do,” I admit to her, “but we have made choices that we both have to live with.”
“I don’t think it was her choice to have her husband sleep with your wife.”
“No, but it was her choice to spew shit in my face and then take him back.”
“You don’t know what she is going through. That’s the thing. Nobody knows what the other person is going through or went through. We just assume.”
“Did you and Kirby ever not have a good relationship?” I ask, trying to get her to talk to me, open up to me.
“For a while. He moved away from home, and I assumed he didn’t want to have a relationship with me. We lost a lot of years because of that.” She gets up and I know the conversation is over. “You should talk to your sister,” she puts her hand on my shoulder, “or you’ll regret it down the line.” I look up at her. “I’m going to bed.”
twenty-eight
Kylie
I look out the window as we drive away from the retreat. “The first sign I see for food I’m stopping,” Knox declares, and I laugh at him.
