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Chapter Twenty-Two

GRAHAM

“Did you bring any hiking clothes?” I try to keep my words gentle, cognizant that this is all new to him.

“Uh, I figured these would work.” He looks down at the jeans and sneakers he’s wearing. “They’re comfortable enough.”

A lot of thoughts run through my head. Comfort is not the deciding factor here. I bite my tongue and manage to keep all my thoughts to myself. “Those will work.” I mentally prepare for today to be a little slower than I previously anticipated. We’ll be making a trip to the outdoor store before our next camping trip.

I hand Tyler a small backpack. “It’s got a few snacks in it, plus some water bottles.” I grab the bigger pack and shrug it onto my shoulders. It’s nothing crazy, just a few extra safety items and water in case we get stuck. It’s overkill for what we’re doing, but there’s no such thing as too safe.

“I can carry more.” He sticks out his bottom jaw. I can see his brain working overtime, trying to come up with reasons why he should be doing more work.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m high maintenance, so I need a lot of things.” Also, I don’t want us to end up lost in the wilderness, dehydrated and hungry. The trails are clearly marked, but there’s always a chance. It’s one of the things my father instilled in us from a young age.

“Okay. Lemme know if you want to trade or something. I know I don’t look like much, but I can handle it.” I don’t doubt that at all, but if he completely wears himself out hiking, we won’t get the fun time in the tent when we get back.

“I’ll let you know if I get tired and need you to carry something. It’ll get lighter as we go since we’ll drink some of the water.” There’s no way I’m trading with him, but he doesn’t have to know that.

After a quick drive to the other side of the lake, we set off from the trailhead at the far end of the parking lot. “I’m going to snap a picture of this map in case we need to reference it later.” I take my photo and spend a minute looking over the routes. “We’ll follow this blue one all the way around. It loops around a pond at the end,” I say as I point toward the top portion of the posted map. “Then we can make our way back on the same trail.”

“How far is it?” I can see him trying to make sense of the distance markers on the board.

“The whole trail is probably about three miles.” Enough to make us feel like we worked, but not so much that we can’t move tomorrow morning.

At least, I hope that’s true. I’ve been so busy over the last several years that I’ve ignored a lot of my conditioning. And the last few months, my focus has been… elsewhere. I didn’t even bother signing up for a gym membership in Cardinal Falls. If I stay, that’ll need to be at the top of my to-do list.

The worn sign on the edge of the trail points off to the right with a little blue dot noting the Pond Loop Trail I chose.

It takes a couple of minutes for us to fall into a rhythm, but eventually, we’re in step with one another, walking side by side. It’s the perfect day for this. Not too cool, but enough of a breeze to keep us from overheating. My fair skin is thankful that there’s plenty of cloud cover, meaning I’m less likely to end up with sunburns. Even with plenty of sunscreen, it’s always a risk.

“Do you have another vacation planned soon?” I ask. He’s talked about his trips only a few times, but I get the sense that they mean a lot to him.

“Oh, um, in February.” That’s sooner than I expected.

“Where to this time?”

“The Netherlands. Well, The Netherlands plus Brussels. It’ll be about ten days, so a little bit of traveling around to spend time in a few different cities.” The excitement in his voice is palpable.

“With your parents?” He hums as he nods. “Have you been before?”

“I visited Amsterdam once back in college, but I’ve never been farther than that. We’ll start and end there this time, but we’ll travel around some and see some of the art museums and churches on my parents’ list.” I still can’t imagine spending that much time with my parents as an adult.

“And what’s on your list?”

He gives me a side look that almost sends him tumbling when his toes hit a branch. I catch his elbow to steady him.

“Thanks.” Yeah, those shoes are not the best pick for this adventure. Even if this isn’t a technical trail. He refocuses on where his feet are going, eyes glued to the few feet of dirt in front of him.

I try my question again. “What are the things you’re looking forward to seeing?”

“I don’t really have a list. My mom picks out most of the sites. Art museums are always on the list so that keeps me happy.” He steps over a few big rocks on the trail. “I usually come up with a few breweries that interest me, especially for somewhere like Brussels.”

“A beer-cation?” I’m not proud of myself for that one, but it gets me a laugh.

“I guess you could call it that.”

“You get along pretty well with your parents then?” I’m not sure if I’m asking or making an observation. I love my family, but they’re a lot. My siblings and I are close and message each other constantly. I love hanging out with them each summer. For one week. Outside of that, I prefer them in small doses. Meeting up for coffee when we have time. The occasional family dinner.

Traveling through Europe with my parents would be… a nightmare. Not that they aren’t wonderful, but our relationship works best when we aren’t trying to agree on the day-to-day details of life.

“They’ve always been my best friends.” He clears his throat. “I mean, Nathan is my best friend, but my parents have always been there for me. I wasn’t always the easiest kid to deal with. I wanted to spend time doodling and thinking about computers rather than whatever book was assigned for English class. While other parents went to soccer games or track meets, mine suffered through a lot of show and tell time at coding camps.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

He smiles at me. That great big Tyler grin that only comes through when he lets his guard down for a second. “I don’t think they did either, but they always showed up. When I sat them down one morning and announced that I was gay, they didn’t even flinch.” A few different emotions flash across his face, and I brace myself. I’ve heard enough coming out stories over the years from friends to know that the ways that conversation goes range from wonderful to traumatizing. “I think they already knew. I thought I did a good job hiding it, but in hindsight, it was pretty clear. They said that they loved me one hundred percent and that as long as I was happy and safe, then they were happy.”

I reach out and take Tyler’s hand. It’s clumsy and awkward while trying to make our way around rocks and tree roots, but it feels necessary. My parents barely noticed when I came out. As the youngest, I think they were relieved that my big conversations didn’t include teen pregnancy.

“I know a lot of people don’t get that lucky. It’s always been like that for us, though. They go along with everything I want to do. I love hanging out with them. I think they were always waiting for me to grow up so we could do more fun things together without them having to worry about saying the wrong thing or dragging their underage son into a bar.”

“You’re very lucky. I think I’d kill my family if we were together that long.” Or they’d kill me first.

His head snaps toward me. “I thought you got along with them.”

“I do, but in small doses. It’s not because I don’t love them or appreciate them, but we’re all strong-minded, independent people. It doesn’t always work in tight spaces.”

“Is that your way of saying that you’re all stubborn assholes?”

I snatch my hand back. “How dare you?” I ask incredulously.

“Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well, at least my shoes are appropriate for the terrain.” We’ve started heading uphill a bit at this point, and I can’t imagine his shoes have a good grip to deal with the loose gravel.

“Do not mock my Vans .”

“I would never.” I bring my hand to my chest and clutch the invisible pearls around my neck.

“Fine, but you’re right. Different shoes would help.”

I hold back my snarky comments. “I think you’ll make it in those. This is pretty much the worst of it.” At least, I hope so. It’s been a while, and my memory tends to be a bit flimsy. We take the kids on it, but that means nothing. They’d all hike a mountain in sandals and come back with energy to spare.

Today, the trail is our own private oasis. In the time it takes to get to the pond, we only pass one other couple. The woods sprawl out quietly in front of us, our own little slice of wilderness. Long stretches of comfortable quiet mix with the sounds of the dirt beneath our feet. Occasionally, a squirrel or bird catches our attention, bringing us to a stop for a few minutes while we watch.

When we reach the pond, I tug Tyler toward a few boulders at the edge of the water. “Let’s sit for a bit.”

“I’m fine to keep going,” he says, his chin jutting out.

“I know you are, but I want to take in the view for a few minutes.” It’s the goal of all this, in my opinion. Stopping to enjoy the scenery and the journey, not ticking the destination off a long list of trails or things to do. Sure, it’s slower, but it’s worth it.

“Okay.”

He lets me drag him off the trail and down to the pond. I drop my backpack and prop it up before taking a seat. Tyler copies my motions and sits down next to me. A few ducks glide across the water, dipping under the surface to check for food.

“This is nice.” I can’t help but smile. When I pictured this weekend, this was the image in my mind.

“So, how many suitors have you used this trick on?” Tyler asks.

“What trick?”

“The whole, bring the boyfriend out to the beautiful pond thing?”

“I think you’re greatly overestimating the amount of game I have.”

“And the whole rugged outdoorsman thing? You fool everyone by making them think that you’re some buttoned-up, suit-wearing city guy, then you spring this whole getup on them.” He waves his arms around wildly.

“I assure you that you’ve put more thought into this than I ever have. I’ve never…” I let the sentence trail off. Is Tyler the first boyfriend I’ve ever brought camping? My ex came with me once to the cabin. It’d been a complete disaster. I knew it wouldn’t be his favorite thing, but he hated it more than I possibly could have imagined. He only lasted three days into the week before he made up some work excuse and left. “I’ve never brought anyone camping before,” I admit. “You’re the first. It’s either been solo trips or with my family.”

“Really, that’s kind of—what the fuck!” Tyler jumps up from the boulder and whips around.

Not quite the reaction I was looking for.

“Mother fucking bee stung me!”

TYLER

What the actual fuck? I grab my forearm and stare at the reddening skin.

“Let me see.” Graham stands and moves toward me. He’s fucking calm. How does he do that? No matter how shit the situation seems, he always has this serene tone to his voice.

I offer him my arm, the welt where the asshole stung me, growing by the second.

“The stinger is still in your skin, so we’ll need to get it out.” My stomach churns, and I worry my breakfast is about to make a return.

Graham’s right, though. I can see the small speck in the middle of the bump. How does something so small hurt so fucking much? I reach toward it with my fingers, ready to yank it out, but Graham catches my hand.

“Nope, if you pull it, you’ll get more toxin in your skin. Hang on.” He fishes through his backpack and returns with his wallet and a small, zippered bag. He opens the wallet first and grabs his credit card.

“Are you going to offer it money to see if it will leave?” Would that work?

“Very funny. Hold still.”

I do my best not to seem like a total wimp. I spend plenty of time in the garden with lots of bees. I don’t love them, but we have a general agreement. I don’t swat at them, and they don’t sting me. It’s not complicated, but it works for us. Apparently, the bees out here don’t know about the deal.

Graham skims the card over my skin, and through some sort of voodoo magic, it removes the stinger. I swear I didn’t even feel it.

“There, that should help.”

I eye my arm. I do feel better knowing that the stinger’s gone, but my arm still hurts like hell and itches, too. Is it possible for things to itch and hurt at the same time? I scratch at the spot, but it doesn’t help. A few more red bumps pop up around the spot. Did I get stung more times?

“Tyler?” Graham asks, his voice suddenly serious. “Have you ever been stung by a bee before?”

I try to think. I’ve been bitten by plenty of mosquitos and one tick, but I don’t remember being stung. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“You’ve got hives. I’m worried you might be allergic.” He grabs my arm, holding it still and keeping me from itching anymore.

“Isn’t that bad?” My mind races through everything I’ve heard about bee sting allergies, and, well, the prognosis isn’t great. Nathan’s going to be pissed if I die out here.

“It can be,” Graham says slowly, like he’s choosing each word carefully. “But it also might not be.” He opens the zippered pouch and pulls out a few things, all while mumbling to himself. I can’t make out the words, so I focus on breathing. I count my breaths, in and out, until I get to ten.

Hey, I’m breathing. That’s a good sign, right?

“Tyler?” I open my eyes to find Graham staring at me with a level of panic in his expression that I’ve never seen before on him.

“I’m okay,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

“You closed your eyes. How are you feeling? Can you breathe?”

“Other than the fact that my arm fucking itches, I’m doing fine.” He searches my face for a minute, and I can only hope that he sees I’m telling him the truth. “Just needed a minute to relax.”

“Okay. I’m going to put some cream on the sting to help for now. We can put some ice and other stuff on it when we get back to the car.” He rubs some white ointment over my skin. I can’t hold back a hiss when he goes over the spot. It’s an angry tomato red at this point and throbbing. “I want you to take a couple of antihistamines. It’ll help with whatever reaction your body’s having.” He holds out two small pink pills.

“Won’t those make me drowsy?” The last thing I need is to sleep through our entire trip. So far, I’m doing a great job at fucking up the whole vacation. One bee sting is not going to keep me from proving that I can camp with the best of them.

“Maybe, but they’re the best choice. It won’t hurt you. We’ll head straight back to the car.”

If I’m doing my math right, we’ve got at least a forty-minute walk back to the car. Maybe thirty if we really hustle. Drugged? Who knows. Maybe an hour or more. “What if I wait to take them until we get back?”

“Nope. You need them now. I don’t want to risk it.” He pushes the pills into my hand. “Please?” His voice breaks, and so does my willpower. I swallow both pills with some of my water and give Graham my best smile.

“We better get walking. If I fall asleep on the side of the trail, you’ll have to carry me and both backpacks.” He chuckles at my joke, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. We grab our gear and start walking back the way we came. I suddenly wish we could stay longer and take in the view, enjoying the quiet. Maybe he’ll bring me out here again? It might take some negotiating after this shit show. I’ve got a few ways of convincing him, though.

I swipe my bag away when Graham reaches for it. He’s carrying my bag over my dead body. Maybe I shouldn’t joke about dead bodies right now, not aloud anyway. Graham doesn’t argue with me about it, which shows his level of concern.I can do this. One foot in front of another.

Right, time to focus. First, we need to get back to the car. Second, I need to keep breathing and not need a hospital. And third, and perhaps most importantly, I figure out how to keep Graham in my life.