Twenty-Seven #2
fake. That we’re past pretending, and we can be ourselves.
But she just lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m not so sure. Chip has ‘awkward moments’ written all over him.”
I glance at the guy nodding intensely at another couple’s first-meeting story. “We can bail.”
“I’m not a quitter,” she whispers back.
“But your sister is here. That doesn’t bother you?” I search her face, looking for any clue.
“She knows.” Mia squeezes my hand in reassurance. Does she mean that Kim knows about the trope tests like I suspected, or
did she tell her sister about how our relationship has changed? “And I’m not worried about Ted. But if you don’t want to go
through with it, I get it.”
Startled to have the tables turned, I shake my head. “I told you, I’m in this, for as long as you want to keep going.”
Mia rises on her toes, lips brushing my cheek, and I have no doubt that’s real.
“Though now that you mention it, I can think of better ways to spend the afternoon.” I bob my brows suggestively and she grins,
bumping my hip.
“Shh, you’re going to make me miss the directions.”
“Which would be the worst thing.”
She turns to me, eyes narrowed but sparkling. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Yet you’ve stuck around.”
“You’re going to get us called out.”
“By him?” I gesture toward the mild-mannered man currently demonstrating how to don a life vest with all the enthusiasm of
a flight attendant. “Pretty sure that’s against therapist code.”
“He’s not a therapist, remember?”
Technically that should make me feel better, since my relationship with Mia won’t be under the scrutiny of a professional.
But as I turn back toward the river, eyeing the flotilla of inflatable rafts, a quiver of unease shoots through me.
Therapy session or not, something tells me our relationship is about to be put to the test.
“Remember, there are no winners here,” Chip says.
“Then by default, we’re all losers,” remarks the man next to me, and from the look on Mia’s face, bobbing up and down on an
inflatable tube, she probably agrees. We’re gearing up for what was described as a Truth Relay, and I can’t imagine a more
terrifying game in our situation.
Chip directed one half of every couple to remain on shore, and the other to wade out to one of the floating rafts tethered in a line between two anchor points.
With each honest answer, we’re allowed to take a step into the water toward our partner.
If we refuse a question, we go backward.
Each couple who completes the challenge receives a voucher for a sunset dinner cruise on Lake Michigan.
I may not be as competitive as Mia, but I can’t think of a more romantic date to celebrate being done with faking it. I crack
my neck, ready to win. We’re going to ace this. We’re friends first, and that gives us an edge over everyone here.
Chip calls out the first question. “What’s your partner’s favorite film genre?”
Easy. “Anything with romance,” I answer.
Chip looks to Mia, and she nods enthusiastically. “Go ahead and take a step into the water,” he says.
“Question,” Ted says, kneeling on the next raft in the row. “How do we know people aren’t cheating? They could just go along
with whatever answer their partner gives.”
Mia sends him an are-you-kidding-me look, but it’s her sister, standing by me on shore, who says, “When has Mia chosen anything
other than a rom-com for movie night?”
“Hey, I’m not that predictable,” she says, even though Kim’s defending us.
“It’s an honor system,” Chip says, jumping in. “Remember, the object is to have fun and learn more about your partner. There
are no winners or losers because communication is the ultimate win.”
Ted looks like he buys that about as much as Mia does. Good. That will make beating their team even more fun.
Chip asks Ted and Kim the same question, and she gets it right by answering, “Documentaries.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Mia taunts her sister, and the woman floating next to her laughs.
Chip sighs like he’s already exhausted from dealing with us. Maybe he’ll decide to call it early.
The next question is whether our partner would choose to live on a tropical island or snowcapped mountain, and then he asks what’s one topic the other person could give a one-hour lecture on with no advance warning.
“The importance of romance novels,” Kim calls out before I can.
Mia playfully splashes her, though the water doesn’t make it where we’re standing, knee-deep. “Thanks for the free point,”
she says, grinning.
Even though a few people argued over the answers, everyone seems to be having a good time. Chip flips to the next card, and
a look of grim determination overtakes his face. Uh-oh.
“Now that we’ve had fun with the surface-level questions, time to dive a little deeper.” He grins at his own pun, and I fight
back a groan. I’m getting flashbacks to corny counselors at summer camp and phony trust exercises.
“This round is for both the people on shore and on the rafts. What’s your partner’s preferred form of conflict resolution?”
One of the women on the shore says, “Can we go back to the softball questions, Chip?”
He chuckles. “Just think back to the last time you two fought. How did you resolve it?”
I can hear the other teams around us murmuring, and one of the other women points at her partner. “Don’t you dare say sex,
honey,” she says, earning a chuckle from everyone.
Wanting to get it over with before all the easy answers are taken, I say, “Talking it out,” at the same time as Mia says,
“Avoidance.”
Ouch. Okay, I know she’s playing to win, but there’s no need to be so honest. But no one seems to notice, each team calling
out answers in a rush to not be the ones on the spot.
When everyone has answered, Chip directs us to all take a step forward. “See? No pressure. No judgment. Today is all about
discovery.” He flips the card. “Next question is for the people out on the rafts. Answer honestly and your partner gets to
advance another step.”
“Are these life jackets really necessary?” one of the men standing in the river asks. “The water is barely waist-deep where they’re floating.”
“Safety first,” Chip says. “And speaking of, I’d like you to tell your partner what you need most to feel secure in your relationship.”
Mia pulls a face, and I wonder whether she’s ever considered the question. I haven’t. The others give their answers, which
I miss because I’m so focused on hearing her response. What will she say? When the last of the group has given their answer,
she seems to sense everyone waiting on her.
“Uh, I dunno.” She scratches at her neck, nose wrinkled. “A crystal ball, I guess?” Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that.
Chip crosses his arms, and even though he says he’s not a therapist, I can easily picture him leaning back in a chair, fingers
steepled. “Care to elaborate?”
“No.” The word is as flat as the calm water, but then Mia cuts her eyes toward Ted, who’s watching her. Seeming to take that
as a challenge, she rolls her shoulders back. “I’m not sure anything short of knowing the future would make me feel secure
in a relationship.”
The woman who called us college sweethearts clicks her tongue in sympathy. Meanwhile, my stomach is in knots. What she wants
is impossible. There are no guarantees on love.
“Everyone, take two steps toward your partner as a reward for that great show of honesty,” Chip calls, and I do, sloshing
toward Mia even though her words have widened the distance between us.
“If you could change one thing about your relationship with your partner, what would it be?”
I can’t help but mutter, “Really?”
Next to me, Kim shakes her head. “Chip didn’t come to play.”
“No losers my ass,” the man on my left says. “If I answer this honestly, Lisa will have me sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“Maybe I’ll sit this one out, too. Strength in numbers,” I tell him, but our voices must carry over the water because Mia
shakes her head, rocking the inner tube.
“Don’t you dare duck out on this one, Gavin. I’m not being worst winner.”
“Admitting your feelings is the biggest win,” Chip says.
“I’ll go first,” the older woman says, raising her hand. “I wish Glen would stop telling me to be quiet when the game’s on.
It’s our living room, not a library.”
“The neighbors complain, Velma. It’s common courtesy.”
“They’re just mad because they’re sticks-in-the-mud.” Without waiting for Chip’s prompting, she takes a big step forward and
I fight back a smile, all the while wracking my brain for something equally innocuous.
I don’t like how Mia always waits to see what I order before choosing her own, but then complains if mine is better, as if
there’s a rule that says we can’t order the same thing. It drives me nuts how she complains about watching any show without
a plot. But I wouldn’t change anything about her, not really, because those things are part of her.
Finally, wanting to get things over with, I decide to keep things light. “What I’d change about our relationship is nothing,
because we’re just starting out.”
“Your friendship, then,” Chip says. “Anything you’d change about that?”
“Chip’s taking no prisoners,” I hear someone say, and that’s exactly how I feel—trapped.
The day is warm, but I’m starting to get cold. The current tugs at my ankles and despite all my forward progress, I haven’t
reached Mia. “Well, we’ve been friends for close to ten years, so I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job of it.”
“Sixteen years together,” says a guy out on the raft to his husband, “but I’d still change how we resolve conflicts. I take too long to see his perspective.” His thoughtful answer stands out in stark contrast to flippant ones. Honest and self-aware.
Suddenly I’m tired of walking this tightrope, keeping my feelings in check. “Fine, I’d change how Mia spends too much time
looking for the worst-case scenario. It takes all the fun out of the moment.”
Judging by the way Ted’s eyes widen, it’s not the right choice.
“It’s called planning ahead,” Mia says. “Being prepared.”
“Or hedging your bets. You’re not willing to commit because you’re worried things won’t end well.”
“Says the man who hasn’t decided whether he’ll be changing careers and leaving the state.”
Her jab hits its mark. “I’m not doing this right now, Mia,” I say, gesturing around us at the other couples, who are hanging
on our every word.
“Do you two need a moment?” Chip asks, and she shakes her head.
“No, sorry.” She attempts a smile, and I instantly regret getting defensive. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“You’re good, sis,” Kim calls out, darting an irritated glance my way. Even Ted is glaring at me.
“Well, it was a little weird,” one of the guys says. “But it also makes us look better, so...” He trails off, earning a
few chuckles, but most people seem tense. Mia and I just brought down the vibe in a major way, and all I want is to turn around
and head out, but I’m not going to leave her stranded out there.
The inflatable tubes are only a few feet away, close enough that I can see Mia shivering, droplets of water highlighting her
goose bumps. I want to make my way over and fix things. But this will never work out if she’s holding herself back. I’d give
her the world if I could, but I don’t have a crystal ball. I know she believes people can fall in love. I’m just starting
to wonder if she believes they can stay there.