Page 30 of Anywhere with You

We had taken turns recording each other and the beautiful hot springs throughout the evening.

I knew that you could never tell the whole story from what you saw on social media, but as often as we’d done this, taking short bits of video to share our experiences, I never felt like I was faking or acting for the camera. And it seemed like Cara felt the same.

Often enough, it gave me the impetus to say out loud what I was already thinking.

Granted, I didn’t often refer to swimming holes as Cara soup . But the steam rising over the water had thickened as the sun began to set, and the bowl-like shape that the trickling water had carved out here made a perfect cooking pot.

Cara rolled her eyes when I said it and lifted up a palm full of water, which I drank, pressing my lips to her hand.

“Ew,” she said, laughing. “Our feet are in this water.”

“Our whole bodies are in this water, and it’s the feet that gross you out most?”

Of course, I ended up trying to put my foot in her face after this revelation, and she pretended to gag while trying to escape onto the dry rocks.

I grabbed her, slipped, and landed us both underwater, only saving her phone from the same fate by lifting it straight over my head at the last minute.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling so abandonedly happy.

* * *

Later, Cara went to pee on some cactus, and I returned a call from the music store that I’d missed.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Florence said right away. “Except we’re down to the last ten ukuleles, which is a good thing. Sold a few guitars this week, too. Just thought you’d like to hear business is hoppin’.”

“That is nice to hear,” I told her. I was sitting on the edge of the pool with my feet in the warm water. It was my new official favorite way to make phone calls. “Is Doug still singing songs from The Lion King ?”

“He learned one from Lilo and Stitch now. The Hawaiian rollercoaster one. It’s been popular. A couple of kids just stopped and stared. One of them dragged their parents inside.”

“That’s sweet. No grass skirts, though, okay?”

“Oh,” Florence said, her voice serious. “I’ve been on nonstop cultural appropriation watch with that young man. He’s bright on some things, but other times, I think his biscuit’s not done in the middle.”

“Um. Okay. I ordered some ukulele songbooks, but if there are kids interested, I’ll try to find some that are made for a younger audience.”

“Hush up. You can take care of that next week, Hon,” Florence said. “For this week—”

“I know, I know.”

“I will say,” Florence added, almost in a whisper, “I loved seeing those cave dwellings in your videos. It’s sad and wonderful at the same time, seeing them there, but empty.”

I smiled. “I thought so, too.”

“Maybe I’ll take a vacation there, myself, one of these days. Me and the chickens.”

I had no idea what that meant. Did she have literal chickens? In any case, it was nice to talk to her about travel plans and not about my emotional state.

“I’ll let you go now, Hon,” Florence said. “I’d say have fun, but it looks like you’ve got it covered.”

“Thanks, Florence.”

I put my phone back outside the splash zone and slid back into the water. I thought about turning on some music, but there was something in the quiet desert sounds that I didn’t want to miss.

Cara came back to the pool and slid in next to me.

“Did you get cactus needles in your butt?” I asked.

“No,” she said, with the irritated tone that I adored.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to check?”

She rolled her eyes and splashed me.

“Do you think other people come here?” I asked later, kicking my feet slowly in the water.

“I don’t know,” Cara said. “I’m sure there are other houses nearby.”

“It’s probably like living right next to a theme park. At first, you want to go all the time because it’s close, but after twenty or thirty trips, it gets old.”

“Hmm.”

“Maybe all the houses here have their own hot springs. They could just be polka-dotted all over the county.”

“That sounds like a dream,” Cara said.

When she started yawning, I got out and dug through the bag for towels and flashlights, handing her one of each.

We shivered as we tried to dry ourselves well enough for the walk back to the house.

“Next time,” she said, “we’ll come out early and leave at noon, not at cold-thirty.”

“Less talking, more walking,” I said, sliding on my shoes and making one last sweep over the rocks and pools with the flashlight. I was sure we’d be back tomorrow, but I hated the thought of littering even short-term in this incredible place. “The path is…”

“Here,” Cara said, walking across the rocky outcrop and back. “No, wait.”

My heart started racing before my brain caught up. We had both walked all the way around the hot springs, shining those spotlights that brightened so well…but also made the desert around us look colorless.

We couldn’t see the gravel path that was so evident on the way here.

“This is ridiculous,” Cara said. “Here, shine your light up so I can see where you are, and I’ll walk out a little ways.”

She headed away from me before I had a chance to argue, but within a minute, she had reappeared on another bank.

“It’s just…I…” she managed, then walked away again.

It made me nervous, but I could see her light clearly sweeping the ground, and she didn’t walk far.

Her light swung up and pointed around in the distance, hitting me in the face as it passed, but I could’ve told her that wouldn’t help. Half a mile was too far even for these flashlights.

“Cara,” I said. I didn’t raise my volume at all. The night was still full of crickets, bats chirping, wind rustling every plant, and a distant coyote, but it was plenty quiet enough for my voice to carry.

She stomped back, her voice at a near scream. “I told you we should’ve gone back. I told you, hours ago. God, what was I thinking? Take a nosedive off a sand dune, Cara! Let’s take the elevator, Cara! Come take a closer look at this wild animal, Cara! Why are you even here?”

I almost laughed, but I could tell she was afraid. “I’m here because I want to be,” I told her gently.

She collapsed forward, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“Everything will be fine,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. “We’ll just sleep here.”

“Sleep…where?”

I gestured to the ground. “It’s probably midnight already. Five or six hours, and there will be daylight, and we’ll make our way back easily.”

She stepped back from me. My light wasn’t shining on her, but I could see her staring at me.

“This isn’t a quirky goddamn adventure for Mesmio, Honey. What if there are snakes? No, not what if. There are snakes. There are thirteen species of rattlesnake in Arizona. And that’s just rattlesnakes. Thirteen .”

“Then I’ll stay awake,” I said, my voice calm, as though I could calm her by broadcasting my lack of worry like radio waves.

“What?” she asked, shaking her head as though she truly didn’t understand.

“I’ll stay awake and keep watch with the light and make sure no snakes or javelinas or desert centipedes come near.”

I regretted the comment about desert centipedes instantly. Cara’s flashlight went instantly to our feet. There was nothing but a damp area where we had dripped onto the rock.

“You’re…you’re going to stay up all night and watch out for me?” she asked, her voice full of doubt, almost mocking.

“Yes,” I said. “Of course.”

I held back the rest of what I wanted to say. Of course I’ll watch out for you. Of course I’ll protect you. Of course I will do anything, literally anything, Cara, to make sure you’re happy and safe. There was nothing I wanted more.

A still, quiet moment passed between us while she turned from staring at her feet to staring at me. Then she bent to set down her flashlight, stood straight, took a step forward, and kissed me.