Hudson always suggested that I invest in a better bag, one that didn’t have plastic buckles that would break off and scratch my skin, or zippers that would stick. I’m sure he picked this bag carefully, with its brass hardware and suede detailing just for me. That he put thought into choosing a bag that would serve me just as well as I served it.
I can’t deny that my mind ruminated on what he might have to say to me the entire ride here. If he’d shower me with excuses or find words that would make me consider forgiveness. The scenarios linger in my mind as I move forward in line.
Grant is standing in front of me, shifting his weight from side to side.
Before Phoebe’s wedding, getting grooms to open up to me was one of my crowning achievements. I’d gone so far as reading up on a handful of topics to connect with them: from NCAA basketball to top-charting video games, Marvel movies, and even the future of crypto. And it worked. After a few carefully timed comments I’d have them relaxed enough to crack jokes and enjoy their time in front of the camera. But now, since Phoebe’s wedding, a layer of fear hangs over every interaction.
“All that energy for the cliff or for the wedding tomorrow?” I ask, doing my best to honor the assignment I was sent here to do.
“The wedding for sure.” Grant stares down at me, stretching his arm over his head, completely unfazed by the bodies scaling the cliffside.
“I don’t know, that’s pretty high off the ground there,” I say, watching the climbers scale up ahead of us.
“Yeah, but once I get to the top, it’ll be over. I’ll know the course. It’ll never change. But with Meredith, I’m going to spendthe rest of my life getting to know her. We’re going to keep evolving and changing, becoming new people, and I’m ready for that. Of continuously getting to fall in love with her.”
The sentiment is endearing but after enduring so much change these last few months, I want something permanent. A dedicated partner to drink coffee and watch bad TV with, someone who will always laugh at my jokes, and who knows when I need a hug at the end of the day. A person I can depend on. A person who won’t change their mind about me.
“I don’t think Meredith told me the story of how you two met,” I say as we watch the next group begin their ascent up the mountain.
Typically, this was the first thing I learned about a couple. The first question on my contact form. But since Meredith called me directly, I’m clueless as to the specifics. Just another reminder of how far I’ve let our friendship slide these past few years.
“Labor Day party at my dad’s house,” he states. “Hudson brought Katherine, and she brought Meredith.”
“You’re stepbrothers, right?” I ask, piecing the family tree together.
“Yeah, my dad married his mom when I was nine.”
“You must be close then?”
“Not really,” Grant mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “He stayed with us a few summers, but then he went off and did camps with his dad. I don’t blame him really. I’d choose travel over being stuck at our house.”
I can hear the pain behind his words, and I can’t determine if it’s jealousy or anger seeping through.
“But Meredith and Katherine are best friends?”
“Yeah. They try to get us to double date but it’s more awkward than fun. I’m not saying I hate the guy or anything, but Hudson and I, we’re just different. And you know how sibling relationshipscan be. You act like dicks to each other and then you move on. But I think I took it too far a few times, and Hudson never got over it.”
I can’t imagine anyone being mean to Hudson without cause. Hell, even I’m struggling to keep up my own cold shoulder and I have a valid reason. I want to ask about their relationship, to gain more insight into who Hudson really is as a person, but Bo interrupts our conversation.
“Alright, Majestic group, you’re up!” he says, instructing us to gather at the base of the cliff.
“Think fast,” Derrick says, tossing me a small bag that covers me in a white powder.
“What the—?” I ask, dropping it onto the ground, and clapping my hands together to expel the residue.
“Chalk,” he explains, picking up the bag. “It helps with grip.”
“Cool,” I reply, as if grip is going to be my biggest problem.
“I’ve done this hundreds of times,” Jocelyn assures me, sensing my hesitation. “You go up, you come down. Easy peasy.”
“I think we have different definitions of easy,” I say, readjusting my helmet. I’ve never been one to shy away from new experiences, but lately I’m more hesitant of my decision-making abilities.
“Make sure these are tight,” Derrick says, helping me adjust the straps of my harness. His hands linger a second longer than necessary as he tightens them around my waist and thighs. “I’m part of a rock-climbing gym back in Charlotte and this is nothing. And I’ll be behind you the whole way.”
I bet you will, I think to myself as I watch him check out my ass for the umpteenth time this afternoon.
“You just gotta find your footing,” Derrick explains, effortlessly leaping into the air and grabbing hold of the first rock he touches.
