12. Millie
CHAPTER 12
Millie
What is wrong with this man?!
His face is painted with a smirk as we trundle through the parking lot, muddy water splashing up at the side of the minibus.
They say men fuck like they drive and, after that performance, I feel sorry for anyone who’s had the displeasure of Caden between their thighs.
I’m torn between beating his perfectly round ass to a pulp or thanking him for the momentary release from my thoughts. There’s a lump forming around my temple, and I can’t be certain that I won’t be going back to the lodge with a concussion, but at least the pain has pulled me out of my spiral for half a second.
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Lately, there haven’t been many mornings where I’ve woken on the right side. I should be used to it by now, the all too familiar tossing and turning, waking up drenched in sweat, having to convince myself it was all just a bad dream .
But it’s never just a bad dream, it always continues to play out over and over as the day goes on, like a broken VHS stuck on repeat. The dreams start to blend into my waking moments until I can’t escape my own memories. The maelstrom just keeps sucking me in until I’m drowning.
Today will be no different.
I’m seven years old. Not the kind of seven where you’re obsessed with pink and write all of your secrets in a fluffy diary with a lock. But the kind where you’ve learned to listen to everything, to understand the meaning of every sound. The kind of seven where you know your mom’s body has just been thrown against the wall.
I creep out onto the landing, careful not to step on the floorboards that creak, as if my presence would have any bearing on the rage flowing through him right now. One thick, veiny hand presses against Mom’s chest, holding her against the door frame. The other claws at her hair, pulling her head back as he growls inaudible insults at her.
Her shirt is ripped open, exposing her chest. He pushes his body against her, pulling her into a demanding, smothering kiss. I haven’t yet learned that not every kiss comes from a place of love. I’m still naive enough to think that this one means that her pain is over for now.
I’ll soon come to understand that sometimes the stolen kiss is just the beginning.
I completely zoned out during Caden’s introductory commentary, my mind stuck somewhere in the early 2000s. Taking deep breaths, I try to recenter myself, painting a borrowed smile on my face as I pull my backpack over my shoulder.
“… be safe and have fun. I’ll be back here at 3 p.m.” Caden nods as he winds up his instructions. I can only hope I haven’t missed anything important.
I’m wildly unprepared for my first hike and my boots are already starting to gnaw at my heels.
I break into a slight jog to keep up with the other hikers as they split off into smaller groups, heading towards the trail head. Regardless of how unfit I am, there’s not a chance I’m letting myself be left behind in bear country.
“Adams, wait up.” Caden’s grating voice pulls me back. “You’re not going out there alone.”
“I’ll be just fine,” I call out, refusing to turn around as I clamber through the first section of the trail, whacking branches and overgrowth out of my way. I’m already drawing longer breaths, praying my lungs make it through. “I have hiked before, you know.”
It’s not a lie exactly, just a significant twist of the truth.
“Looks like it.” He chokes on a laugh as he catches up to me with ease. “Where’s your bear spray? What’s the plan if you fall over in those brand-new boots and twist your ankle? ”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Don’t get it twisted, Adams.” He’s already holding himself back to match my pace. “I’m not here to help you. I’m trying to protect my reputation. I always return my guests in one piece. Leaving you out here alone is like begging for a black mark on my clean record.”
“Fine,” I huff on an exhale. I don’t want his company, but I don’t fancy ending up in the inner bowels of a wild animal either. “I’ll let you babysit me, if it makes you happy.”
“You don’t have a choice in the matter.” He’s six strides ahead of me, walking backwards with his arms folded across his broad chest as he nods for me to join him. “Come on, little Millie.” He coaxes me with a baby voice. “I don’t want to have to go back to the minibus for your stroller.”
“You’re an imbecile,” I retort.
If humans came with block buttons, I’d be making use of the feature right about now.
The trail folds out in front of us, earthy switchbacks zigzagging up the mountain as the spring melt cuts through the ground in braided streams.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.
The fresh scent of pine rests in the air. I grapple to take it in, savoring the moment while catching my breath. I hadn’t considered the impact the altitude would have on me, but I am struggling like never before.
The same can’t be said for Caden, who looks like he is taking a leisurely stroll through the park. He stops every so often to wait for me, before taking off again whenever I’m within an inch of catching up to him.
For someone who protested so hard about sticking with me throughout the hike, he’s doing an awful job of being my guardian.
I can feel sweat pooling in every crease of my body. I didn’t get the chance to check myself in the mirror before I left this morning, I was still in the process of dressing as I ran across the bridge towards the lodge. But I know I am looking a hell of a lot worse for wear just one hour into this hike, and I’ll be looking downright hideous by the time we make it to the end of the trail.
I thought this was supposed to be fun.
I prepared this list before I came out here, things I wanted to do that I thought would make me feel like I’m really living. A bucket list of sorts. People come out here to hike, so I threw it on there. I was looking forward to the fresh air, crystal lakes, and the peace and quiet of nature. Yet, all I have right now is a blister forming on either ankle, a heart pounding out of my chest and soggy baby hairs spreading across my forehead.
There’s no denying the beauty of this place, it’s exactly how it looked online, if not better. But I’m starting to think that I’m maybe not cut out for this kind of thing.
There’s something to be said for having grandma hobbies – reading, and knitting, and eating scones. None of those things have ever given me arrhythmia.
“What’s taking so long, Adams?” Caden’s muffled voice winds through the trees that separate us.
I stop, resting my hands on my hips, unable to walk and talk at the same time.
One gasp only goes so far.
“I’m not a daddy-long-legs like you, Caden! I wasn’t gifted with the art of scaling mountains at birth. ”
“Did you just call me Daddy ?” he splutters. “Damn, that’s not how I saw this hike going.”
“Uch.” I make no attempt to conceal the disgust that’s oozing out of me as I catch up with him. “In your dreams. How long until we reach the tea house?”
“Long.” He’s already strides ahead of me again, leaving me with nothing but a view of his backside in the distance.
I didn’t know it was humanly possible for anyone to look good in zip-off pants. I was sure they were reserved exclusively for middle-aged men in hiking sandals and souvenir T-shirts. But it appears Caden has made some sort of deal with the outdoor–apparel-devil, because he looks like the furthest thing from a wholesome family-man right now.