27
The next morning while brushing his teeth she went for a pee. She stood and turned to flush and whispered, “Holy shit.” Her urine was very dark.
“What?” he said innocently, to avoid alarming her and to hide his concern.
“It’s so dark.”
“How do you feel?”
“Fine, what was yours like?”
“Normal, I think. You think it’s what we ate?”
She exited. “Probably.”
He felt the usual dazed but not severe hangover from weed plus alcohol, a bit slow and stupid. She seemed fine, no detectable discomfort, like him, he supposed. Probably more worried about her symptoms. They packed up and drove to the Seven Sisters Trailhead. The plan was a hike, then swim and drive back to the city. As they set out on the trail, she talked about her sister, Sandy. Eva was twenty-three when she had ended her life. Eva hadn’t seen her for two years. On the morning of the funeral, her mother broke down sobbing uncontrollably and refused to attend. Eva and her father, and then her mother’s best friend, tried to talk to her to find out why, but she wouldn’t say anything or budge from her position, inconsolable. A lot of family friends and people in the community would attend, and her father didn’t want to attend without his wife and answer questions. The whole thing reeked of something awful, everyone could feel it, but her mother revealed nothing. Eva spoke of the events in a calm, almost matter-of-fact kind of way.
“Did your mother blame herself?”
“I know she did, that was obvious.”
“Interesting,” he said. The forest filled with silence but he hardly noticed and took out his water bottle. He held it out to her, “Drink?”
She grunted a negative. He stopped and took a long drink while she kept walking. A moment later he’d caught up with her and immediately she had words: “You know, when I tell you something like that, a really difficult time for me and my family, you could at least say, ‘That must have been really hard.’”
He’d fucked up. “Yeah,” he said gently. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She kept her eyes on the trail.
“That was stupid of me. I can hardly believe that happened to you and your family and I think it threw me off. I know how hard it must have been. Terrible. I’m sorry. I have no reference for it so in a way I can hardly believe it but that’s no excuse. I really do understand how hard it was for your family.” Neither uttered a word for twenty minutes, the silence of the forest booming.
At the lookout she sat down and stared at the lake below and mountains beyond, blanketed by trees. He sat too, not too close, picked up a stick and poked the moist dirt. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine, let’s not keep talking about it.” He threw the twig forward, it tripped over itself. He looked skyward. “It’s turning out nice.” Indeed, most of the clouds had cleared but the word ‘nice’ hung in the air.
“Yep.” She produced a quick but forgiving smile.
He leaned over and nudged her with his shoulder. “Head back?”
“Let’s go little further,” she said.
“Cool.” He closed his eyes for a moment, grateful. The sun warmed his chest, the breeze passed over him and through the trees, refreshing.
Less than an hour later they were wading into the lake for a swim. He swiveled around to see Eva’s childlike smile of excitement right before she plunged into powerful crawl gliding past him effortlessly. He tread water and breaststroke in circles, turned on his back lazily, looking directly at the clear blue.
He wanted her to come back so he could hold her weightless in the water but she was away, crawling and kicking. Even the joys seemed to be problematic. Maybe all were. It’s terrible to love somebody, a ceaseless attack on the nerves. In its own way, a misery. He always felt like he was cycling on loose gravel with no hands. But that was relationships, right? He just had to hang in, stay devoted. Women wanted someone committed. Everything was a test.
He returned to their towels and sat for a moment but then got up, better able to see her. Her arms strode producing a graceful wake. He wondered what was he doing. This, all of this, with her. He had no clue what it was, of anything, her, himself, life.
Soon she was out and they ate the sandwiches, which cleared some melancholy. The cool water had eliminated his hangover. They packed up and took some selfies together, the calm lake behind them, and then plodded to the car like tired children, reluctant to leave. She popped the hatch and while he shook out their towels she checked her phone. She sighed with a closed mouth then got in the car. He closed the hatch and followed.
“Bad news?” he said ironically.
She started the car and pulled out. “Blood test on Monday.”
“Oh, what’s that for?”
“Routine. They do them every four months, monitoring things.”
“That’s bothersome.”
“Yep.”
They were back on the road just after 3 PM for the two hour drive back. Before getting on the highway, they stopped for gas. The water, wind and sun had them craving for salt – greasy potato chips which she snatched off the shelf. And of course Diet Cokes. He was happy to drive and helped her munch through the chips. She put on music and soon they were trading off songs. He felt it was time to show her some of his heavier tastes, some Rage Against the Machine, The Renegades of Funk, and the like. She wasn’t moved. She played The Rolling Stones, Shattered, which he always thought was one of their weaker tracks, almost annoying. Did she choose it for the lyrics?
“Can we put these chips away?” she said abruptly. “I’m eating too many.”
“Of course.”
“She rolled up the bag tightly and put them in the shopping bag on the back seat.
They kept trading songs and it seemed like it would be a fun way to pass the time but she didn’t seem enlivened by anything he played and neither was he about her choices. He pulled up to his place at about 5:30 PM. He tied up the accumulated car garbage in a plastic bag and took it with him, got his bags out, and bid her farewell with a quick kiss.
That evening he texted her the selfies at the beach. Her smile was comical.
Her: Wow. She looks wacky. How’d she snag that great guy?
Him: She likes to enjoy life… He’s a sucker for that stuff.
Her: 😊😘
Him: 😘
Great guy? How’d she snag that great guy? Was he reading that right? This was, after all, on the same day where she gave him the silent treatment for twenty minutes, which had never happened before.
And when they had, just an hour before, been non-plussed by each other’s music?
And the mediocre sex during the whole visit?
And missed the sunset.
Great? What was great? It was wonderful to read this text but it was damn confusing. What was so great???
Later that evening he texted:
I want to take you out on the 18th. Are you free?
The 18th was two days before she would leave for a week away at the cottage in Whistler.
Her: I am 😊
Him: It’s a date 😘
Her: Oh la la
Thirty minutes later she texted the picture she’d taken on the dock, the evening of the missed sunset when he was stressed about work and had bored her with how long it takes to travel to the next closest star.
Her: Love this pic. Why?
1) you are in it
2) I can see your cute boxers
3) it’s nice memory of our beautiful sunset watching 😂
Him: Haha, thanks. I really think you should have come in when you dropped me off … I hadn’t checked you for ticks! 😂
Her: 😉
If that’s how she remembered him that evening, he’d done a masterful job hiding his ill feelings. So everything was fine? More than fine? A dream? Was this how Eva was? Perhaps he was often misinterpreting things she said or did and taking his own feelings as the truth. How often was this happening? He always felt like he was on a roller-coaster, but perhaps that was all in his mind, and in fact it was a straight rail on a clear day.