Chapter One
“How many times do I have to tell you? This is the chance of a lifetime.”
“You say that every year.”
“Well, this time I mean it. I’m serious. You can’t get a permit for love or money.”
“Why does everything you say sound like a sales pitch?”
Jill huffed and turned back to her beer, the high color in her cheeks suggesting strong feelings. Fiona felt a little guilty, but then she remembered the last trip they’d taken together. It had been a disaster in every sense of the word. She’d promised herself at the end of it that she’d never let Jill bully her into going somewhere again. Still, she didn’t want to argue. They’d been friends for a long time, and she knew what Jill was like when she didn’t get her way.
She put a hand on Jill’s. “Look, I’m sorry. But why don’t you let Carol plan it for once? Or Sarah? She’s good at that kind of thing.”
Jill rolled her eyes. “Sarah might be good at weddings, but she can’t plan a vacation to save her life. Don’t you remember Bali? We all agreed: never again.”
Fiona grimaced. “Oh. Right.” Bali had been even worse than Mexico. Fiona played with the condensation on her beer mug, letting the silence drag out. When Jill didn’t say anything, she said, almost whispering, “So why not let me choose this time?”
Jill finally turned her way again, that color still bright in her cheeks. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it—this is a chance of a lifetime. You were so excited about it before—don’t you remember? And they only issue six permits a year. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Already, Fiona’s resolve was slipping away. She fought against her weakness, desperately trying to hold on to the memories of their last several trips, but they were losing their power in the face of Jill’s anger. After all, it wasn’t as if all the crap in Mexico had been anyone’s fault. Sure, Jill had suggested they eat the fruit from that street vendor in that mountain town, but other people on the tour had eaten it too, and they’d been fine. Everything else—the flat tires, the lost luggage, the stolen passports—had been bad luck. Most of her resentment had settled on Jill because she’d planned the trip, but it could have happened no matter who booked the tickets or where they went.
“I guess,” she finally said.
Jill perked up, clearly sensing a win, eyes bright with excitement now. “Keep thinking about it for a few minutes before you decide. Sarah and Carol will be here any minute. I’m going to tell them all about it, give everyone some details, and then you can decide.”
Fiona nodded, tuning out as Jill chatted with the new server behind the counter. She and Jill had been friends since early teen-hood, and despite widely varying experiences since, they’d managed to stay close. Know someone that long and you realize some things will never change. In their friendship, Jill was and always would be the leader and the decider, and Fiona had understood that the first time they’d met in AP Bio. Sometimes, like now, she resented their relationship, but most of the time she simply accepted it. Putting her foot down now would piss Jill off, and Fiona hated fighting with her more than anything. It would probably be pointless, anyway. Jill would eventually wear her down. Accepting Jill’s plan would avoid all that. And anyway, they’d had good trips together before. Maybe next year she’d finally get to choose where they’d go.
Jill touched the back of her hand and gestured at the new server. “This is Gina. She just moved here from Denver.”
Gina was very young—in her mid-twenties, maybe, with cute light strawberry-blond hair. Fiona could sense Jill’s glee from the stool next to hers even without seeing her face.
Fiona forced herself to smile and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fiona.”
Gina’s hand was hot and a little sticky from the beer. “Nice to meet you, too.” She held Fiona’s hand slightly longer and tighter than necessary, making direct eye contact, and then she was called by another customer. Gina gave her a quick smile, almost seemed to wink, let go, and walked away.
Jill elbowed Fiona in the side, rough enough to spill her drink. “Huh, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s cute.” Fiona mopped at the beer with a cocktail napkin.
Jill slapped her forehead. “What? Are you kidding me? She’s a knockout!”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far—like I said, she’s cute, pretty even. But she’s a baby.”
Jill stared after Gina, frowning. “No, she’s not! And anyway, who cares?”
“If you like her so much, why don’t you ask her out yourself?”
Jill gave her a level stare. “You know what your problem is?”
“No. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“You’re damn right I am. You’re completely oblivious. Gina is totally into you, and you immediately find reasons to reject her. I’m not telling you to marry her or anything, but why not ask her out for drinks? Have some laughs?”
Fiona opened her mouth to reply, but Jill was suddenly turning and waving wildly behind them. Fiona spun her stool to spot Sarah and Carol coming through the door. It had been a few months since she’d seen them, and her stomach dropped. She’d thought she’d be okay with it by now, but she’d been fooling herself.
Jill launched herself off her stool and ran over to them, giving both a big hug, and Fiona followed, forcing a bright smile.
“You guys look great!” Jill said. “Don’t they look fantastic, Fiona?”
She nodded, hardly able to meet their eyes.
“You been working out or something?” Jill asked them.
Sarah nodded. “CrossFit. We started right after the honeymoon. Carol’s brother got us a year’s membership.”
Jill whistled. “Wow. Well, it shows. Come on—let’s grab a table. Fiona? Can you get us some beer?”
“Sure. What do you guys want?”
Once they told her, Fiona went back to the bar, taking the opportunity to try to center herself again. The last time she’d seen them had been at their wedding, which had been one of the worst days of her life. Having to smile and pretend to be happy for an entire day had been difficult.
Long ago, in college, she’d nursed an unrequited, silent crush on Carol, but that hadn’t been the root of the problem. In fact, a crush would have been easier, an actual motive for why she felt so terrible at their wedding. Instead, as she witnessed their vows, and then after, at the gorgeous reception, she’d felt an utter, empty solitude and crushing sense of doom. What had bothered her then and now wasn’t the fact that an old flame was getting married; it was the realization that the wedding, the reception, all of it, would never happen to her. Throughout their whole wedding, she’d fought a very simple emotion, but one that filled her with shame: jealousy.
Instead of being happy for her friends, she’d been consumed with envious spite. She’d gotten too drunk, though luckily no one she was close with besides Jill actually noticed, and she’d thought it was funny. Still, she’d made a fool of herself. She’d avoided thinking about the wedding since, hoping she’d get past her reaction to it, but she clearly hadn’t. That same jealous resentment was still there, still dark and ugly, festering in her heart.
Gina served her, and Fiona realized as she was paying that she’d been a little short with her when she ordered their drinks. She tried to make up for her curtness with a wide, final smile, but Gina was no longer meeting her eyes, already looking behind her at the next person in line. No matter. She’d meant what she said to Jill earlier—she wasn’t interested.
It took two trips to take the four pints to the table, and she slid into the empty seat next to Jill, unnoticed and un-thanked by any of them. All three were catching up, none of them attempting to bring her into the conversation, and Fiona took this extra time to arrange her face into something like casual friendliness.
She and Jill were sitting across from the others, so she had the chance to take the two of them in at her leisure. Jill was right—they were different. Their faces had slimmed, and their shoulders seemed broader, more defined somehow. Sarah had always been thin, but now her muscles leant her something like solidity rather than her previous, almost ethereal slightness. Her dark-umber skin, always gorgeous, was glowing with a kind of bronzed light, making the black curls of her hair a shimmering halo. Carol, already strong and fit, seemed almost dangerous, the muscles in her arms thick and corded, her previous pallor replaced with a healthy tan. She’d let her gray hair grow a little into a kind of rockabilly bouffant on top, and it suited her. It was like sitting with two centerfolds for a lesbian fitness magazine.
Fiona glanced at the mirrors on the walls and almost laughed at herself. There she was, all hundred and ten pounds of her, slunk in her chair like a sickly vulture over her beer. Her hair was a thin, messy pile of short, mousy brown wisps, her skin translucent and almost gray, nearly matching her pale eyes. Jill’s long, blond hair was a radiant crown behind her, her all-American good looks and extroversion a draw for men and women alike. Seeing the others reflected around her was certainly a study in contrasts, and not a good one.
“Hey,” Jill said, elbowing her. “Stop checking yourself out. I want to talk to you guys about what we’re doing this summer on vacation.”
Sarah and Carol groaned, comically and in unison.
“Jesus Christ, Jill,” Carol said. “Not another of your bright ideas.”
“Do you know how much weight I lost last time?” Sarah added. “I’ve never been that sick in my whole life. I still can’t smell cantaloupe without heaving.”
Jill made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Forget all that.” She paused, leaning forward and meeting everyone’s eyes, clearly trying to build suspense. “Fiona already knows, but guys, I got the permit.”
Sarah and Carol reacted as if they’d been slapped, jerking backward in surprise.
“What?” Sarah said.
“You did?” Carol added.
Jill’s self-satisfied grin widened into a smile. “And I got the best one: the end of July.”
Jill didn’t have to explain what she meant. Three years ago, the four of them had independently read an article about a protected, isolated forest that stretched from Northern Colorado into Southern Wyoming. Fiona had read the article while waiting for her skis to be fixed at a local outdoors outfitter. Jill had a subscription to the magazine it was printed in, and Sarah and Carol had seen a link on their social-media feeds. All four of them had been interested but hadn’t thought about it or mentioned it until they’d been at a barbecue at a mutual friend’s house later that week. Fiona had brought up the article, and everyone had immediately started talking about how fascinating they’d found it. By the end of the evening, they’d talked themselves into figuring out a way to go.
The coincidence of reading the article on their own had seemed like a sign, and that superstitious omen leant even greater excitement to the idea of backpacking there. Three days later, Jill had gotten the farthest into researching the means to visit the forest and told them all, much to their dismay, that the permission was even harder to get than the article had suggested. Six two-week permits were issued every year, with hiking groups limited to parties of eight or fewer. At the time, that had seemed like the end of it, and they had gone on their disastrous trip to Bali together that summer. Fiona had forgotten about it since.
“But how?” Sarah asked. “I thought there was no way to get a permit.”
“I didn’t even know you were trying,” Carol added.
Jill pointed at her. “Bingo. I wanted it to be a surprise. I put myself down when we were talking about it at the time, and I just got the news yesterday. We lucked out, actually, because another group backed out at the last minute. The woman who called me told me a bunch of other people were on the list, but they couldn’t commit right away, and she needed an immediate response.”
“Wait,” Sarah said, holding up a hand. “You said yes before you talked to us about it?”
“I had to,” Jill said, raising her voice, almost whining. “I’m going whether you want to come with me or not.”
Sarah frowned. “Jeez, Jill. Chill. I didn’t say I didn’t want to go. It’s just a surprise, that’s all.”
Sarah and Carol shared a glance, and Fiona saw Carol raise one shoulder and nod. Sarah smiled at Jill. “Okay—count us in.”
Jill peered at Fiona, eyebrows up. “So, how about it, lady? You ready to cave yet?”
She was, but she needed to play it coy for a few more minutes to avoid looking like a doormat. “When do we go? How long?”
“We leave the morning of July 20, get back the afternoon of August 4. And don’t tell me you can’t get the time off, since those were the same weeks you took off last year.”
This was, of course, true. Fiona had already submitted her vacation paperwork. The last week of July and the first of August was her usual long, annual leave. She’d taken a trip with Jill, Sarah, and Carol almost every year at the same time since college.
Fiona shrugged. “Okay. So how do we get there? I thought the road was closed to cars.”
Jill glanced away, a little color creeping into her cheeks again. She played with her beer.
“The guides take us in on horseback,” she finally said.
Fiona, Sarah, and Carol all spoke at once.
“What? Guides? You didn’t say anything about—”
“That’s totally different. I don’t want to be around—”
“I like my privacy—”
Jill put her hands in the air. “Guys, guys, relax for a second. Jeez. Hear the details first, for God’s sake.”
Carol shook her head. “No way. I don’t want some dude on my vacation, Jill. Doesn’t interest me at all. It’s one thing if you’re in a country where you don’t speak the language, but not out in the woods, alone.”
Jill started counting off on her fingers. “First of all, you’re being sexist. The main guide is a woman. She’s the one who called me. Second, she and her assistants ride in with us from the parking lot for a few miles to the first campsite, where the wilderness begins. Third, the assistants take the horses back to the truck and meet us on the other end two weeks later.”
“But the main guide stays with us the whole time?” Sarah asked.
Jill hesitated before nodding. “Yes. It’s the only way you can visit. She leads us through the forest, making sure we stick to the trail and clean up after ourselves.”
“But we do that already!” Sarah said.
Jill sighed. “You know that, and I know that, but we’ve all seen the kind of shit people leave in the woods, literal and not. This is one of the last protected, undeveloped forests in the lower forty-eight, and they want to keep it that way.”
Fiona remembered their last backpacking trip together. Every backcountry campsite they’d stopped in had been full of litter and piles of poorly covered human feces. She’d never been as disgusted with humanity before or since. She could understand the idea of the conservationists wanting to avoid that, but having a stranger with them the entire trip was not a small concession.
“Have you met this woman?” Carol asked.
Jill shook her head. “But I’m going to, in May. You can all come with me if you still want to go.”
Fiona noted the fact that Jill had already assumed that she was coming along, despite her earlier protests. She hadn’t agreed to go yet, but Jill clearly didn’t care or had forgotten. Even if Fiona objected again now, Jill would badger her until she agreed, so why bother? Still, she needed to voice at least one more objection to save her own self-worth.
“Two weeks is a really long time, Jill. We usually just do overnights or weekends. We’ve never been on a backpacking trip that long.”
Carol nodded. “She’s right. What was our longest—four, five days?”
“That’s a lot of stuff to carry,” Sarah added.
Jill laughed. “As if you two have to worry about it. Look in the mirror lately? You guys could carry a circus tent and not break a sweat.” Jill slapped Fiona on the back. “It’s the two of us that need some work, but we have time. July is what—three, four months from now? We can start going to the gym together.”
Fiona opened her mouth, ready to object, but the three of them were already making plans. She wanted to remind Jill that she hated going to the gym more than almost anything in the world. Jill knew that, but she wouldn’t care. Someday soon, she would be dragging Fiona to work out. Rather than pretend that she could do anything about it, she shut her mouth and tried to pretend she was as excited as everyone else.