Chapter Sixteen
Aspen zipped closed the tent, the early-morning air cold against her skin.
The wind had picked up during the night, and the unsettling sound had woken her up around six, howling unnervingly through the tops of the redwoods.
The trees creaked and groaned under the strain of the gusts, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She genuinely tried to quiet them, but Aspen’s inability to deal with her spiking anxiety next to Mo’s slow, rhythmic breathing had led her to quietly dress, grab her satellite phone, and exit the tent.
Yesterday, the pair had reached the point where Bridge Creek flowed into Redwood Creek.
After setting up camp, they used the little bit of daylight left to scout around, trying to see if they could find a good tree.
Unfortunately, this particular area was thick with young redwoods, and nothing seemed to be suitable for the wind phone.
Mo had become a tad frustrated with the lack of available space for Annie’s phone but was in better spirits overall.
She had been flirting and joking instead of wallowing in her frustration.
It was stark in contrast to Aspen, who was now crumbling under the weight of her deepening affection for Mo.
To help block her anxiety out, she had assured Mo they would hike all the way to Devil’s Creek if they had to.
Mo didn’t seem too fazed, exclaiming that she was just happy to be here with Aspen.
With Aspen.
Her brain had taken that, plus their increasingly arousing interactions, and ran wild.
Now, as she power-walked away from their campsite and into the woods, Aspen was hoping Virginia would be able to help her sort through all of this.
Once she found some brush that blocked the wind but still had a decent view of the sky needed for reception, Aspen quickly found Virginia’s number in the phone’s address book and hit send.
“Pick up, pick up. Please pick up,” Aspen whined, crouching to sit haphazardly in the leaf litter. She adjusted herself manically, trying her best to get comfortable.
After what felt like an hour but was probably no more than thirty seconds, a tired voice answered. “Aspen?”
“Oh thank God you’re awake,” Aspen almost yelled, cowering and looking toward the campsite, worried that her voice would carry. “Hi.”
“You dying?” Virginia’s morning voice grumbled.
“No, no. I just, uh…I’m having a problem?” Aspen’s voice wavered, unsure if she could properly explain her predicament. “You’re always the first person I think of when I’m in a pickle. And Virginia, oh am I pickled—pickling? Oh, I don’t know, something like that?”
“Butch not good in bed?” Virginia responded, shuffling noises apparent in the background. “You don’t need to call me and give me a play-by-play. I coulda just waited for you to come back.”
“That’s not, uh, my problem.”
“All right. Well…” Virginia cleared her throat. “You’re calling me damn near seven, so somethin’ musta happened. What’s wrong?”
“Well, I think I kinda…well, you see, we started to do the thing but I just…” Aspen was losing her composure. How was she supposed to make this sound plausible when she herself was confused? “I just feel all kinds of anxious and weird and—”
“She bad at it? I had to teach Sal. You know, orgasms are—”
“Oh God, please no,” Aspen interrupted. “No, no. We haven’t done that.”
“Oh.” Virginia’s voice lightened from its usual gruff lilt. The older woman held an eerily long silence, which only ratcheted up the anxiety ping-ponging around in Aspen’s chest. “You’re in love.”
“No!” Aspen yelled this time, exasperated. “Well, more like…attached?”
“In love. It happens to the best of us, honey.”
“I am not in love. Granted, I’ve never been in love so I don’t know how it feels, but I severely doubt it feels like this.
I’m a literal mess, Virginia. I’ve had flings with tons of women, but for some reason I can’t just sleep with her.
Why can’t I just sleep with her? And to top it all off, it’s not like I’m not interested, I’m just… broken?”
“Kyle was wrong—”
“I know,” Aspen groaned, rubbing her hand up and down her face.
“But what if this is better?” Aspen’s heart skipped a beat at the thought.
“I don’t know. I want to go back to the way life was.
I make the connection, we have some laughs, we do the deed, and then she leaves.
She is supposed to leave…right?” Aspen ranted, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head against them. “Help me?”
“Sounds like you are doing just fine to me,” Virginia replied, a chuckle in her voice. “Just relax a bit and go with the flow. It’s kinda like tubing down the creek—just let the water take ya along. No need to try and paddle against it.”
“This isn’t like tubing. I feel crazy! And God, she’s just so amazing and I don’t know what to do. This is too much.”
“You’ve got this, I…”
Aspen didn’t hear the rest of what Virginia said, instead alerted to a distant snapping of twigs. Her head flung up and she squinted, recognizing the telltale poof of Mo’s hair as she trudged through the woods toward her. She quickly whispered, “Fuck she’s coming, I gotta go.”
“Tell her how you—” was all Virginia got out before Aspen hung up, scrambling to reach a standing position before Mo got to her fully.
“Hey!” Aspen shouted too loudly, her body practically buzzing with awkward emotion. She had no idea what to do with her hands, so she waved before letting them fall to her sides, shifting in and out of her pockets. “’Sup.”
“Morning,” Mo returned smoothly. “You weren’t in the tent, and I got a bit worried. Thought I’d use the bathroom and look for you. Two birds, one stone, ya know?”
“Totally. Sorry, I was on the satellite phone. I called to check in and make sure people knew we were okay.”
“That’s thoughtful,” Mo said, bracing herself against a tree. “With how windy it is and all.”
“Yeah.” Aspen nodded, her free hand going into her hair. She looked down and noticed the trowel in Mo’s hand. “Make sure you find a place to go where your butt is protected from the wind or you won’t be warm for hours.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Mo grinned before nodding toward a semidistant tree. “Guess I will go and uh…”
“Right,” Aspen replied, bowing weirdly as she moved to walk back toward camp, embarrassment flooding her senses. She waited until she was a few hundred yards away before exclaiming to herself in a stage whisper, “Goddammit, you are the weirdest person on the planet, Aspen Anderson.”
* * *
The phone call with Virginia did nothing for Aspen’s nerves.
She had been so distracted that she knocked over the Jetboil.
Twice. Mo politely took over, finding a flatter rock to rest the Jetboil on, and boiled the water for their coffee and oatmeal instead.
Packing up was just as difficult. Aspen had forgotten little things, struggling to stuff-sack items she had put away a million times before.
It was a wonder they had returned to the trail before noon at all.
Mo had been sweet and patient the entire time, not once making Aspen feel stupid for her apparent scatterbrain.
So nice, in fact, Aspen had almost pushed her into a chair and flat-out told her what was bothering her.
Unfortunately, a seemingly new kind of fear had stopped her each time.
So, instead, Aspen just followed clumsily behind a leading Mo, desperately trying to make sense of her tumultuous feelings.
The most bothersome of them all was whether or not Virginia was right.
“Am I?” Aspen whispered to herself, unable to say the infamous three little words out loud. She pulled her arms in close to her as another gust of wind swept by. “Can I?”
“Huh? What did you say?” Mo turned and said over the wind, obviously picking up that Aspen was talking.
“Nothing,” Aspen cried back, watching Mo smile and nod before continuing to lead.
Aspen blinked a few times, slowing her pace a tad to look up at the swaying redwoods.
Their loud creaking under the stress of the wind was as majestic as it was frightening.
Aspen had seen plenty of windy days worse than this one, and she figured by how clear the sky was that the wind wouldn’t bring any rain with it.
She shrugged it off distractedly, her focus dropping to the ground as she continued to follow Mo.
Her thoughts raced again, occupying her energy and focus.
“Am I on the right side of the creek?” Mo was suddenly beside her, leaned down close in order to ask.
“Yeah,” Aspen muttered, barely looking up to take in where they were.
“Okay,” Mo replied, wavering only for a second before moving forward. “Do you hike the whole length of the national park a lot?”
It was a long minute before Aspen’s brain notified her of Mo’s question, and she quickly mumbled, “Totally.”
“Huh?” Mo asked, raising her voice to be heard over another gust of wind.
“Totally!”
“Cool,” Mo answered. “I wish I knew if Annie did.”
Aspen didn’t fully register that comment, instead working her way through her anxious thoughts, her body on autopilot as it navigated the rocky terrain.