40
Boulder, Colorado, United States
Kate nearly spat out her morning coffee when she laughed at a photo Ben had sent of Frida and Solveig’s children stuffing their faces with tacos, taken by Solveig the previous Tacofredag.
“So, he chose his daughter over you?” Clara’s eyebrows went up as she sipped her morning coffee, exchanging a look with her wife.
“Respect,” Felicity said after sipping tea from her new rainbow flag maple leaf mug.
Kate leaned on the tall kitchen counter and rapped her fingernails against her bear mug. “I keep worrying that, despite everything, his feelings for me will fade. Out of sight, out of mind. Like fruit in an opaque crisper drawer.”
“That’s your anxiety talking,” Felicity said.
“So much for burning bright and hot and out,” Clara said. “But it’s only been a few weeks, right? As more than friends?”
Kate hummed.
“And you love him?”
Love. Love, love, lllove.
Ben made Kate feel all warm inside. He made her feel secure, both emotionally and physically. She could be herself around him without fear of judgment, even if that true self was messy, or sad, or anxious, and he wasn’t annoyed or frightened by any of it. And they were a goddamn perfect match for nearly all the things that mattered. But more importantly, their differences didn’t form a rift between them that got wider and deeper the longer the issue was ignored because they didn’t ignore the issues. At least not yet.
It hurt now, physically hurt to be away from him. She’d never hurt to be away from Nikki or any other partner. Maybe that was the difference: with Ben, she cared.
But what Kate felt for Ben wasn’t a thing of fantasy. She wouldn’t die without him or his love, nor would their passion melt glaciers. The kind of love she wanted and needed, the kind she’d found with Ben, wasn’t loud or fiery or melodramatic, but quiet, honest, and dependable—or so she hoped.
She touched her forearm, the place where only the memory of her Sharpie mountain tattoo remained.
“I really, really love him,” she said. “And turns out he had a crush on me for as long as I’d had a crush on him.”
“Twenty years?” Felicity asked.
“Twenty-three goddamn years. And we’re so fuuucking good together.” Kate sighed into her mug. “I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I think I could.”
Felicity’s cheeks puffed as she slowly exhaled. “I guess when you know, you know.”
“Damn right,” Clara said.
“I’m still going to put us to the test. He plans to visit at some point. We’ll take a road trip together.”
“Road trip test.” Clara nodded. “Nice.”
“Right, if it happens. There’s literally a whole ocean’s distance between us to navigate.”
Clara waved off the thought. “From what you’ve told us? That man would move mountains to get to you.”
Kate snorted. “Shame his back sucks.”
Clara smiled warmly. “Nah. He’d find a way.”
Clara’s optimism was infectious, and Kate’s cheeks ached from smiling.
“So, his kid’s gay, huh?” Felicity asked.
“Something like that. I’ve agreed to talk to her if she wants. Though I wasn’t all that sure about my own sexuality until Tonia, and I was nineteen. Frida’s ahead of the game.”
Kate’s phone blooped. Clara and Felicity gawked, expectant, so she read the message aloud: “‘Will you answer the call? Volunteer with the Democratic Party today!’” She glared at her friends. “I promise to tell you if anything riveting happens.”
The trip to the mountains took nearly two hours, driving as slow as Kate was.
Her left arm stretched out the open window, fingers splayed and caressing the summer air, flowing in time to the indie folk song playing from her phone on a playlist Ben had made for her. Mostly quiet stuff, acoustic, folk rock, some country… Music she was currently in the mood for. She’d made a playlist for him, too—a mix of her never-used road trip playlist and other, less-angry tunes. The two playlists were completely different, but he genuinely liked hers, and she his.
Maybe similarities weren’t the key to a good relationship, but rather appreciating and celebrating the differences.
Ben was still in transit, but he’d sent her a message from the airport in reply to hers.
The message had only calmed her nerves somewhat. Despite Ben’s wishes, despite his promises, she was still convinced that they were over—that she was just a summer thing from a summer fling.
The early days of her and Nikki were just as comfortable, and only after living together did their relationship become untenable.
Fucking hell, I need a therapist.
In the meantime, nature and music would be her therapy. She was finally taking a solo road trip, sort of. She’d be home by dark, so it didn’t really count. But she was out on her own, and that’s what mattered. It wasn’t the escape she needed, but the solitude—she needed to fall back in love with herself.
At her destination, she parked, then headed down a trail she knew well. On a warm, flat boulder on the shore of Bear Lake, she soaked up the afternoon sun and let the gentle waters cool her feet. Minnows nibbled at her toes, then fled when she wiggled them.
There were many other hikers and tourists today within Estes Park, likely hoping to see the rest of Rocky Mountain National Park. Kate didn’t need to see the rest. She was here, in one of her favorite places.
She took a photo of the lake, of her feet in the lake, the sunlight filtering through the evergreens, herself smiling, then sent them to Ben.
Green heart emoji. Kissy-face emoji.
When she worried she might burn from the sun, she pulled her feet out of the water, dried them with the bottom of her t-shirt, then made her way back to the trail that circled the lake.
A peaceful, mostly shaded trail, one easy enough to walk without worry of tripping. A trail where she could take her time, pause when necessary, or when she wanted to take photos. There was a spot east of the lake from where she could see the Front Range, and if she was lucky, the lake would be still enough to mirror them.