24. Walter #2
“You warned me about Maude and Lo?c,” he said, because why stop now? But it was something he’d thought about afterward: the fact that she hadn’t tried to leverage a humiliating piece of information.
“That was basic human decency. And also irrelevant, as it turned out.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
“Okay, Hallmark.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I know. It’s freaking me out.”
“Sorry.”
“See? That’s even worse.” She poked him in the side. “Snap out of it. Oh shit!” Her stabby finger was replaced with a two-handed death grip on his arm. “The train is stopping.”
“On purpose,” Walter pointed out, keeping his voice level. “We’re not breaking down.” He started to move before noticing Hildy’s stiffness. “Are you coming?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll just stay here.”
“I’m sure it’s perfectly safe.”
“Out there? In the cave? What if I get lost—or fall into a hole?”
He didn’t point out that they were parked in a circular chamber slightly larger than a living room, with a single point of egress. “You know I would find you, Hildy.”
She sniffed. “So you could brag about your superior caving skills.”
“Exactly.” He reached for her hand before he could talk himself out of it.
She let him take it, which told Walter … something. Like maybe the distance between them wasn’t all scorched earth and broken trust.
They moved away from the train, shuffling carefully across the dirt floor while listening to their guide describe the prehistoric images of animals that covered the ceiling like constellations.
It was a primitive cathedral, full of art that was both spectacular and mysterious.
Still holding Hildy’s hand, Walter led them to a quiet spot away from the others where they could crane their necks upward without being trampled.
This is the coolest thing I will ever see. That thought was followed immediately by a sneaky postscript. And I’m seeing it with Hildy.
As if that meant something—like their initials were now carved into the rock, to last a thousand years. He wondered if she felt it too.
“It kind of reminds me of tattoos, only for rocks instead of skin. I’ve been meaning to commission a piece on changing attitudes to body art as a social signifier.” She paused, as if suddenly remembering she wasn’t talking to herself. “Don’t even think about stealing that idea.”
It was so far from the direction of his thoughts, Walter had to pull a mental U-turn, brakes squealing. “I can’t believe you’re worrying about work right now.”
“What should I be thinking about—being trapped under miles of earth? In the dark? With you?”
“Good to know I make the short list of your phobias.”
“What are you thinking about?” It was clearly a challenge, like she expected him to say Art or Death or Free Jazz so she could skewer him for being pretentious.
“You,” he admitted. “And me.”
There was a beat of silence before she replied. “I don’t believe you.”
“Okay.”
He felt her lean closer, not quite making contact with his chest. “What’s your angle?”
“Who says I have one?” Walter heard the edge in his own voice. “Why are we arguing?”
“Because that’s what we do. We even argue about arguing!”
“You are wondering if it is a goat?” their guide interjected from the darkness, pointing his flashlight at a murky spot on the wall. Either he was trained in stealth or they had been too busy bickering to notice his approach.
“Walter wasn’t sure,” Hildy volunteered. “He has a lot less experience with goats than I do.”
“Ibex,” the guide informed Walter. “Not goat. Or sheep.”
“Merci for settling the argument.” Hildy waited until the guide had rejoined the other guests to take several steps in the opposite direction.
“You know what’s crazy?” she hissed at Walter, because of course he was still following her. “This is like my longest relationship—and it’s not even a relationship. I might as well be my uncle, but instead of divorcing a bunch of different people, it’s always you.”
A throat cleared nearby.
“Sorry,” Hildy said.
Despite her fear of the dark, she moved farther from the rest of the group, as if her anger outweighed the anxiety.
Walter thought about giving her space, but he couldn’t let the conversation end there.
He wanted to break their pattern of getting mad and giving up—or at least find out if such a thing was possible.
“We’re not divorced, Hildy.” He spoke quietly, so she wouldn’t think he was baiting her.
“Yeah, well. Somebody should give us a prize for not letting it get that far.” Her frustration wafted toward him like a rain cloud. “Maybe I’m not cut out for commitment. Maybe no one is. You can’t tell me you believe most relationships are headed for a happily ever after.”
“It’s not like you to be this cynical.”
“I guess that’s why I don’t let myself go to the dark side.
Because when I do, I go all the way down.
You want realism? How about this. People lie to themselves all the time—almost as much as they lie to each other!
Calling something ‘love’ when it’s really hormones or pheromones or whatever.
You think you know a person but it’s just an image you made up in your head. ”
The rustle of fabric alerted them that someone was approaching. He reached for Hildy, fingers brushing her arm. When she didn’t jerk out of his grasp, he gently led her away.
“Are you talking about us?” he whispered, when they were alone again.
“I’m talking about human beings. All of us!
We buy into these illusions, like we’ve never even met ourselves.
Maybe we should go back to having big orgies in a cave instead of pretending monogamy has a snowball’s chance in hell of working out.
At least that would be honest! Maybe my mother was right.
We should chew our own foot off before we step in the trap. Better to be one-legged but free.”
Walter almost hushed her, thinking he’d heard someone, but when he strained his ears there was nothing but the distant murmur of the guide pointing out a prehistoric horse on the far side of the cave. “Your mom told you that?”
Hildy gave a bitter huff. “She didn’t stick around long enough to tell me personally. But she wrote it all down.”
“Um.” Walter was treading carefully. “That is a lot to unpack.”
“That’s probably why I’ve been in such deep denial.
Isn’t that how it goes? You reject everything your parents stand for until one day you’re like, ‘wait, maybe they were onto something.’” She didn’t give Walter time to answer, too caught up in the tide of her outrage to slow down.
“I mean, seriously, what’s the point of this whole circus?
It’s like thinking you can be young forever.
Hate to break it to you, but we’re all going to die, no matter what your abs look like now. And the two of us are the worst!”
“Why do you say that?” He was having trouble making the jump from stomach muscles to mortality.
“Because we perpetuate the fairy tale. Shine it up and sell it to the masses, when we know relationships are a trap. We’re the poster children for ‘that was a mistake!’ The truth is, most romantic relationships are a distraction at best—if not a straight-up liability.
They can throw your whole life off course! And then what?”
“Is that what you think? Our relationship ruined your life?”
“What relationship? We’re like … bumper cars in the night! An iceberg and the Titanic. The rift that keeps on rifting. Maybe that’s what happens if you meet someone when you’re too young. It freezes you at that stage of emotional maturity and you never grow up.”
Walter suspected she would have gone on if the beam of a flashlight hadn’t caught them both in the eyes.
“Could you two please put a sock in it?” The normally affable Robbie sounded like he was ready to drop-kick them down the nearest crevasse. “You’re upsetting Fiona!”
“I didn’t know you were there.” Hildy’s voice was faint, barely a scrape of sound in the silence. Too bad she hadn’t located that volume setting a few minutes earlier.
“We thought we were alone,” Walter said.
“So did we,” Robbie shot back. “Me and Fee snuck over here to have a quiet moment together in this amazing place and contemplate time and eternity, but no! It had to turn into a horror show.”
There was a gasping hiccup from the corner, where Walter could just make out the shadowy figure of a sobbing Fiona being consoled by her sister.
“Shit,” Hildy whispered.
“It’s not what it sounded like,” Walter started to say, but Robbie held up a hand.
“Fee’s the one you need to talk to. Not right now,” he added, when Hildy took a step in that direction. “She needs time to heal from having her dreams stomped on.”
“Corinne’s going to kill me,” Hildy groaned, after Robbie rejoined his fiancée. “I’m going to kill me.” There was a slight pause, during which he sensed her gaze sliding his way. “You’ll have to take a number.”
“I don’t want to kill you, Hildy.”
She grunted at that. “Doesn’t really matter, since I’ll probably murder you first, before I off myself.”
“So this is my fault?”
“No. This is on me, because I was stupid enough to let my guard down. Even though I know it’s always going to end like this.”
It was a bit of a stretch to claim she could have predicted this exact scenario, but Walter knew better than to push back.
“I can’t believe I lost my shit again.” It sounded like she was talking to herself. “How many times can I make the same mistake before I get a clue? But that’s it. I’m really done. No more screwing around.”
“Hildy—”
“Don’t,” she warned, cutting him off. “You can’t change the past. There’s no point pretending anymore.”
They were the last words she spoke to him for the rest of the long, chilly trip back to the surface.