“Yeah,” I admit slowly. “I’ve got a few regrets. She might have some too. But I guess there just comes a time in every doomed relationship when you’ve got to cut the ties for good, you know? Move on.”
Steve doesn’t respond right away. He takes a long gulp from his can of beer and glances at the tent when the sound of a giggling child filters out. A vague smile crosses his face and then disappears. He looks at the ground and keeps his voice low. “I’ll tell you something. We’ve had our moments, Michele and I. We were young when we met, about your age. My frat boys were giving me a time about being pussy whipped. Said there’d be plenty of more chances to find something just as good or better.”
“Obviously you knew they were full of shit.”
Steve nods. “I know that now. Back then it took me a little while to locate my brain. We were apart for a year.” Steve frowns, perhaps remembering what it was like to nurse a huge hole in the heart for a while. “I wish I could say that I came to my senses overnight but in truth it was a slow process. Had a lot of growing up to do. I don’t know why she took me back. God knows she could have done a thousand times better.”
“Well,” I say because there’s no non-corny way to respond when some dude spills his guts over a campfire. “Looks like it all worked out pretty smoothly. You guys seem like you’ve got the dream.”
He leans back in his chair and sighs. “Oz, you’ll probably never meet a happier man but that doesn’t mean we don’t have to work at it. Even if it’s the best kind of work it’ll still twist your heart into knots sometimes. All I can do is try to be worthy. And let me tell you, I’ll try every day until I run out of days.”
While I mull over Steve’s words he finishes his beer and carefully places the can in the garbage bag. Suddenly he lets out a small chuckle.
“Forgive me if things took a turn for the heavy handed. I’m not really in the habit of dispensing random advice like the wise old man cliché at the end of every story. Just hate to see a young guy like you all lonely and defeated if you’ve got someone worth fighting for.”
Lonely.
The word tugs at me. Am I lonely? Seems like a weak question, a question for guys who wax their forearms and shiver when it’s seventy degrees out. I’ve always thought of myself in solitary terms. Never as part of anything. Well, never except for those few ancient months I was with Ren. And however that turned out, it was special at the time. Maybe if the world had just tilted a little bit differently it could have been something that lasted. Maybe I could have been like this guy, a vital piece of a bigger picture.
“Not sure if there’s enough left to fight for,” I tell him. “At this point we’ve done things to each other. Hell, we might both be tired of fighting anyway.”
Steve tilts his head back and peers at me shrewdly. “Are you? Are you tired of fighting?”
I think about the question for a long time. “I thought I was. But maybe not. Maybe it’s a little closer to the truth that I haven’t even started fighting yet.”
Steve seems pleased with my answer. “That’s how you know it’s not over, buddy. That’s how you know.”
I sit there grappling with the idea while Steve ties the corners of the trash bag together. The sounds of the campground are softening as the night settles. There are low voices and the faintest wisps of music.
The flap of the big tent opens and Michele pokes her head out. “Babe, can you bring me some water when you come inside?”
Steve winks and reaches over to dig around in the red cooler. “I’ll do better than that,” he says and triumphantly produces a bottle of wine. His knees pop when he stands and he turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “You planning on sticking around tomorrow, Oz?”
I was planning on it, but now I’m not. “Actually I think I’ll be heading out before dawn.”
“Ah, hitting the road early.”
“Yep. Want to be well on my way before the crowds get moving.”
He stretches his torso, twisting first one way and then the other before extending the hand not holding the wine bottle. “Well buddy, best of luck to you in your travels.”
I shake his hand gladly. As he disappears behind the tent flaps I have to wonder what it’s like to be him, to be a man who the world would count as unremarkable yet has everything.
And suddenly I know that if I could choose one destiny I would choose that one.
It’s not late and I’m not tired but after a little while I duck into my own tent for the night. I told Steve the truth when I said I want to get out of here early to avoid the masses on the road. I know what I need to do. It’s time I really did start fighting for something.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
REN
Cate Camp bangs on the front door at the crack of dawn. Since I haven’t slept much the past several days I’m awake enough to fling the door open before she manages to disturb the whole house.
“Loren.” She slides right past me without being invited inside. There are no crew members straggling behind her so she must have driven out here from Consequences alone. She paces the front room with her teeth sucking loudly on her bottom lip and I get the feeling she’s high on something.
“Come on in,” I say with a dash of irritability. Cate Camp annoys the crap out of me. She has been in what I would politely call ‘a state’ ever since she heard that Oscar took off. Apparently Gary Vogel is displeased with the turn of events and holds her at least partially responsible. I can’t really muster much sympathy for her career though when my heart is in shreds.
Cate stops pacing and fumbles through her vagina-sized designer wristlet. She withdraws a black e-cig and starts vaping with a vengeance. She looks me over and I think I detect a slight frown of disapproval, although with all the collagen she’s pumped into her lips it’s tough to tell. At any rate I haven’t showered yet today and I’m probably not looking very fetching.
I plunk back down on the leather sofa where I’ve been reading for hours from one of August’s dusty old books, Volcanic Formations of the American Southwest. It’s captivating stuff. Either I’ll end up suddenly yearning for a career in geology or I’ll fall asleep. Win win.
Cate Camp vapes and fidgets and stares out the window with her e-cig pinched between two manicured fingers.
“Today will be the day,” she says fearfully. “He’s coming today.”
“Who? The anti-Christ? Pardon me while I get dressed then.”
She ignores my sarcasm. “Gary only travels out for filming if there is a huge setback. Once the pieces are in place he expects that everything will proceed smoothly.”
I stare down at black and white photos of Sunset Crater. “That’s interesting. Is everything not proceeding smoothly?”
Cate Camp shoots me a dirty look. “Your cousin or whatever the hell he is really fucked things up. I always thought he was a wild card. But Gary figured having him here would be useful for dramatic effect.”
Slowly I turn a page. “Gary was right. It was dramatic.”
“What happened out there, Loren? Oz was insufferable about following instructions from the beginning but you had been fairly cooperative. I’m not oblivious. I know you’re here reluctantly but you need to remember you have a job to do.”