Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“And,” I went on, leaning my head back, and attempting to reclaim the lightness we’d been enjoying, “I like how you make me feel, how you make me laugh and have fun and feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”
He stared at me for several heavy beats. “I think you should know something, Grace,” he said after a moment.
“What?” I asked suspiciously.
“In the tradition of the Native American people who lived in this desert ten thousand years ago, we just got married, baby.”
I burst out laughing. “Vows at the top of the mountain?”
“Exactly,” he said, laughing too.
After a minute or two, we joined hands and moved on.
At a little before ten a.m., we returned to the car, sinking into our seats and turning up the air conditioner to high.
“Wanna go see the visitor center before we get back on the road?” Carson asked.
“Okay,” I said, glancing over at the outdoor, shaded center.
We spent a half an hour looking at the four themed areas; earth, air, fire, and water. Carson stood next to me and put his arm around my shoulder as I read about agave roasting pits and I nuzzled into him and kissed the side of his neck. Things felt so natural between us now. Too natural. Painfully natural. I was aware of the hurt—the goodbye—in the very near distance, waiting for me, but I’d vowed to enjoy the last of our time together, and though it might take some effort, I was committed. Light. Fun. You can do it.
We drove back to town and stopped at a small burrito bar and sat on the outdoor picnic benches as we ate. Carson pulled me onto his lap halfway through, and it felt completely comfortable to continue eating sprawled across him as we reminisced about the things we had seen on our hike.
“Thank you for showing me my first sunrise,” I said. “Thank you for the whole morning. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.”
He nodded, his mouth full of burrito. After a minute, he said, “My pleasure, buttercup. And by the way, a sunrise will always remind me of you too.”
I leaned in, kissing him softly and smiling against his salty, burrito-flavored lips.
We drove back to the hotel, and I reminded him that I was going to the seminar presentation and wanted to get there a little early. We stopped by my room so I could grab some clothes and then went up to his room to each take a quick shower.
When I emerged in my bra and underwear, Carson was drawing the curtains so the room was dark and cool. “Nap?”
“God, that sounds so good,” I sighed.
He set the alarm and we snuggled together under the blankets, skin to skin. It felt warm and cozy and his smell was intoxicating me again. But my body must have needed sleep more because before I knew it, the alarm was going off. Carson untangled himself from me and rolled over to shut it off. We snuggled for a few more minutes, waking slowly. Delicious. I wished I could stop time for a few hours and live under those covers with him.
“Meet me back in my room at four o’clock?” he asked. “It’s our last night. I want to do something special.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. I swallowed it down with effort. “Four o’clock,” I repeated. Wish as I might, time would not be stopped, or slowed.
I dressed in a conservative outfit of black slacks and a black-and-white polka-dotted blouse. In some odd way, I felt like I was slipping on an old version of myself. But that wasn’t accurate. This buttoned-up version still existed. It was just that I’d become more. My stomach knotted at that line of thinking and I wasn’t sure exactly why. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? It was the positive I was going to walk away from this weekend with. I slipped on my shoes and leaned over Carson, still lying in bed. “Four o’clock,” I said again.
His expression was so serious as though those words made a lump form in his throat too. “Okay,” he said. “See you then. Oh, take the extra key card on the desk so you can let yourself in.”
“Okay,” I said. Then I kissed him softly, grabbed the key card, and left the room.
As I walked down the hall, another burst of melancholy swept through me, and it occurred to me that this was the first time Carson and I would be apart for longer than fifteen minutes since we had first stepped onto that elevator.
_________
Carson
I lazed around for a little while, flipping on the television and watching Die Hard for half an hour or so when I found it on a movie channel. Finally, I shut it off and pulled on some clothes. I was still feeling the depression that had overcome me when Grace closed the door behind her. I was going to see her in a couple hours and yet I was already missing her. This wasn’t good. I suspected that I was somewhat fucked when it came to Grace, but I didn’t want to think about it. It was going to suck to watch her walk away tomorrow morning. I stood at the bathroom sink, looking at myself in the mirror. “You are such a dumb motherfucker,” I said to my reflection. I turned, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms. Maybe we could keep in touch. Maybe I could fly her out to LA. We needed to talk—I couldn’t let her go permanently. I suddenly realized that it was an impossibility for me. I had no idea what we’d do, but we had to do something. I tried to work through it in my mind for a few minutes but couldn’t come up with a solution. “Fuck!” I yelled to no one.