The River at Night(27)

“Is it?” Rachel said.

Pia crossed her arms hard across her chest. “Well, that’s my fucking business, don’t you think? Last time I looked, I was a grown woman and could sleep with whoever I please, when I please.”

Rachel’s body recoiled into itself, but her face did not soften. I had a flash of Rachel’s promiscuous teen years, and for a second I thought Pia would knock her down with a few choice memories, but she didn’t go there.

“Maybe this is crazy, but I thought you might be happy for me,” Pia said. “He’s a nice guy.” She looked off and away, her manner momentarily regaining its former sex-stunned dreaminess.

“He’s twenty, Pia! You’re almost thirty-six!”

“So who are you, the sex police?” The cords in Pia’s neck stood out as she spoke. “Just because you don’t get any—”

“Come on you guys, stop it,” Sandra said from under her curtain of hair.

“—doesn’t mean I have to walk around with it zipped up the rest of my life—”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” I said.

“Then what the hell are you saying?” Pia held herself as a friend might. Looked at me. She began to cry. My chest tightened to hear it. I thought, My God, sometimes we are closer than lovers, we female friends. And sure that scares men, but sometimes it scares us even more. “I’m telling you, this is so fucked. . . .”

“What was your plan, Pia, for this trip?” Rachel said, her voice a touch more gentle.

“Plan?” Pia said sarcastically. “I was planning on having a wonderful time in nature with my friends. Evidently that won’t be the case. Evidently, I’m going to be demonized for—”

“We were planning the same thing, Pia,” I said. “As girlfriends. No guy drama.”

She looked at me like I had cut her, then at Sandra. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to slap her or hug her. “Loo?” she said. “Do you fucking hate me too?”

Sandra lifted her head as if it weighed a thousand pounds. She didn’t look at any of us. “We came on this trip to be together, Pia. It took a lot for us all to be here. Emotionally, financially, logistically . . . I mean, Jeff is totally pissed at me. Ethan’s got a project in the science fair and I’m missing that—”

“Not to mention the grand I dropped at REI,” I loathed myself for saying, even as I did so.

Pia shook her head, wiping her eyes with her long sleeves. “Shit, this is—”

“And to tell you the truth, Pia,” Sandra added, finally focusing on her, “it always just seems easier for you to take what you want. Like with Joe.”

Pia gulped, whitened. Even Rachel looked stricken. Fourteen years ago, Pia had slept with Joe, Sandra’s ex, a little too soon after their breakup. Like, the next day. As far as I knew, the subject had never before been broached; in fact, I couldn’t remember hearing either of them say his name in years.

“You were done with him.”

Sandra sat up, her spine straightening. “You made sure of that, I guess.”

“Come on, Sandra, you guys were always breaking up—”

“And getting back together.” Sandra turned to Pia, fixing her with a hard stare. “Who knows what could have happened?”

The air thickened, grew still.

“So I made a mistake.” Pia hugged herself. “That was freaking forever ago. I don’t see what that has to do with now.”

“Whatever, Pia, you wanted to get laid,” Rachel said. “You could have held off till we were done with this trip.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Someone gets some action around here and nobody else can handle it,” Pia said without conviction. She surveyed our hardened faces. “Jesus Christ, you guys are tough.” With a trace of fear she added, “This isn’t fair.”

We looked at each other, at the sparkling river, as if we were the saddest people in the world.

“Fine, so I screwed up! I can’t unfuck the guy!” Agitation colored her voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“We wanted this trip to be about us,” I said. “About our friendship.”

“We wanted you to be here with us,” Rachel said. “Not off with some—”

“So we’re here!” Pia shrieked. “I’m here!” She plunged both arms into the water, lifted a heavy stone up over her head, and heaved it back into the river. “What else do you want?” She turned and sprinted to the shore, where she grabbed her sandals and disappeared into the forest, not stopping long enough to put them on.





14


The smell of pancakes reached us at the banks of the river and seemed to pull us bodily back to the camp. I couldn’t remember ever being so hungry.

Rory was bent over the fire, which he’d somehow gotten started and roaring even though everything was wet. He had on a soft gray T-shirt that said U. OF ORONO—GO BLACK BEARS! in red letters and the same bright orange nylon shorts he’d worn the day before. Whistling to himself, he expertly flipped the cakes and stacked them on a beat-up metal pan that he’d balanced on a rock next to a squeeze bottle of maple syrup. Another pan, full of black coffee, steamed next to a container of dried milk. Pia stood a few yards away in a sun-dappled glade, brushing her hair with quick, sharp strokes.