The Middle of Somewhere(57)

“You nailed it!” she said. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“From the same uncle who was crazy for birds. He photographed them at the feeder. My job was to scare the squirrels away.”

“Did you kill them?” She couldn’t imagine Dante killing anything.

He shrugged. “A few. I tried not to. Most of them ran away as soon as they saw me.”

They entertained themselves for a while setting up more difficult shots. Dante hit nearly everything.

“The fire’s hot,” he said, carefully adding another log. “We should eat.”

She boiled water and rehydrated the lentil soup. They ate quickly. Dante moved to pick up the dishes, but sat again when Liz spoke into the fire.

“I never understood why Gabriel changed the way he did. He was so in love with me, so into me, and then he—” Her hand mimicked the flames disappearing into air. “I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I.” He hesitated. “Something was going on with him.”

“Clearly.”

“Did you ever think he might have been depressed?”

“Only long after it was too late. My go-to response—especially back then—was it’s me, not the other guy.”

“It must have been so terrible to not understand what was happening.”

“Yeah, but Dante, if you’re me, it almost always feels that way. And everyone called us the perfect couple. I loved Gabriel, but as for the rest, I had to take their word for it. Relationships were this big intricate mystery. Are.”

He poked the embers, and a flame awoke and licked a charred log. “I can see why you think that, because you spent too much time alone when you were small. And you never saw your parents together, being a couple. Living together, being happy, being angry, being bored.”

“Even an evil stepparent would have been more informative.”

“Exactly. You’re the same as someone who learns to ski when they’re already an adult. It’s hard to be natural at it. You’ve got no snow sense.”

“Well, that’s very encouraging.”

He put his hand on the nape of her neck. She turned to him. “But we are not skiing. We are loving, and it’s not as difficult.”

“It’s not? Remember I’m a shitty skier, too.”

“I think it’s actually very simple. I don’t know what happened between you and Gabriel. Maybe you were too young—both of you. But don’t blame it on love. There’s nothing wrong with love.”

? ? ?

It was dusk when they returned from filtering water at the stream. Linda and Paul were coming down the trail and eyeing the campsite next door. They spotted Liz and Dante.

Linda approached. “Are you going to think we’re stalking you if we camp here?”

Liz laughed. “Better you than anyone else.”

“Brensen’s right behind us.”

Liz pointed out the third site near the bridge. “It’s tight, but it’ll give him something to complain about.”

The McCartneys lowered their packs with a shared groan. They both looked as if they could use a stiff drink.

Dante said, “Our fire is still pretty hot if you want to use it.”

Paul glanced at Linda, who nodded consent. “Fantastic. I’ll put up the tent, darling, if you want to get dinner started.”

Liz observed the McCartneys unloading their packs in the near darkness. She couldn’t recall when they’d ever hiked this late into the evening. Whenever she saw them late in the day, they were already kicking back, clean and organized. Linda approached with a pot, two bowls and two sporks.

“Pull up a log,” Liz said.

Linda nestled the pot in the embers. “I dislike cooking over fires. Makes such a mess of Harold.” She noted their quizzical looks. “Harold’s the pot.”

Dante told her about the fuel.

“That was resourceful of you. Thanks.” She peered over Liz’s head at the trail. “I want to tell you about Brensen before he shows up. Last night, in all that wind, one of his guy lines got loose. The fly was flapping wildly, so he went outside to secure it. He forgot about a huge branch hanging over the tent and smacked his head on it.”

“Ouch,” Liz said. “How bad was it?”

“That’s the thing. He says it was nothing, but he’s got a lump on his forehead you wouldn’t believe.” She lifted the lid off the pot and stirred. “Not only that, but he’s acting strangely.”