For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Colin exhaled slowly, his eyes tracking the line where mountain met sky. “I forget sometimes,” he murmured, “how big the world is… and how small the dark things feel when you’re standing in a place like this.”
Joshua didn’t answer but reached over and slipped his hand into Colin’s.
“Is that our cabin?” Nate exclaimed, pointing.
“It is,” David said, hugging him from behind. “You can just glimpse a corner of the lake to the left.”
“Wow,” Joshua murmured, his voice awestruck. “We biked a long way.”
Colin consulted his watch. “About seven miles, give or take.”
“Not counting altitude,” David commented.
“Going back will be easier,” Colin promised them as he began his downhill scramble to where their mountain bikes waited.
That evening,they feasted on Joshua’s delicious chicken taco bowls, combining his tangy Mexican-inspired chicken mixture with the many nutritious toppings he provided.
“Oh my god, Josh, did you make this guacamole yourself?” Nate crooned as he spooned the mixture into his bowl.
“He made the salsa himself, too,” Colin bragged. He smiled and shivered in remembered delight. “IloveMexico night at our house.”
“Well, the next time it’s Mexico night, we want an invitation,” David declared, spooning a helping of refried beans into his bowl.
Joshua nodded toward David’s dinner. “Made those by hand, too.”
“The beans?” David asked, and when Joshua nodded, David poked Colin’s shoulder. “Definitelywant an invite to your next Mexico night!”
“You got it, buddy.”
After dinner, they sat on the wide, comfortable porch, nursing cans of Murphy’s Irish Stout and talking quietly about their day. Colin sat at the end of the glider with Joshua’s head in his lap. He was turned toward David, who lounged in a lawn chair next to him. Nate was seated cross-legged on the floor, sorting two merged decks of cards into two usable decks while Joshua watched, offering suggestions whenever Nate missed.
“That one goes in the mountain pile,” Joshua said, nodding toward the small stack of cards near Nate’s knee.
Colin glanced down at him, his expression curious, then turned back to David. “I know I’ve said this before, but I hope you know how much it means to me—tous—to be able to come up here, Davy. This place,” he glanced around, his arm sweeping wide to indicate their surroundings, “it just means so much. It’s the exact opposite of everything we deal with on a daily basis, and at times, that stuff can feel overwhelming.”
David nodded. “Itisoverwhelming, Colin. It’s not fantasy on your part. It’s not fiction. You and Joshua, much more so than Nate and I, deal with some of the most harrowing aspects of human behavior. Stuff that would leave even the most hardened among us quaking with symptoms of PTSD.” He leaned towardColin and grasped his arm. “Do yougetthat, Colin? Do yougetthat you and Joshua are standing on the front lines of human suffering every damn day? The experiences you’re forced to deal with in your work are the equivalent ofanythinga combat Marine would see and experience. And you both need to take care of yourselves accordingly!”
Colin stared at his friend. “I—I honestly never thought of it that way, Davy. I mean, I did when I was a cop, but...”
David shook his head, his hand still grasping Colin’s arm. “Being a prosecutor is no different.”
“He’s right, you know,” Joshua commented. He lifted himself from Colin’s lap and then leaned against him.
“And the same goes foryou,” David said, stabbing his index finger at Joshua. “You fret constantly abouthim, but you also spend every day hip deep in that ugly, contaminated water!”
Joshua nodded, brows furrowed in thought. “I don’t think my career world leans as much toward the violent and deadly as his does, but I take your point.”
David scoffed out a soft laugh. “Apples and oranges.” He leaned closer to his friends. “My point is”—he indicated the cabin and the surrounding woods with a wave of his hand—“if this helps, then you need to be here a lot more often than you are.” He poked Colin’s arm with a stiff index finger. “You haven’t been up here for months!”
Colin nodded, his gaze fixed on the porch floor. “Sometimes it’s hard to?—”
“Get away?” David interrupted, eyebrows lifted.
Colin met his friend’s eyes. He didn’t answer—but he didn’t need to.
David let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair, eyes still on them. “It’s your choice. But don’t forget that itisa choice. I knowbothyour bosses. And if you told them your mental, emotional, and physical health depended on a weekend in thewoods now and then, they’dthrowyou out the goddamn door just to get you here.”
