Chapter 4
[Booster]
Holy fuck.
My heart drops to my hiking boots when Kali screams toward the valley, causing the sound to echo all around us.
With blood-curdling concern, I leap onto the boulder to find her laughing.
Full on, bent at the waist, laughing.
“What the fuck?” I snap, both from the fear that she’d hurt herself and the relief she hadn’t.
When she finally stands, she doesn’t look at me. Instead, she’s swiping at her cheeks, brushing tears from her eyes. Tears that started as laughter and ended in a sob. Her lips quiver, and she licks them, chews them, anything to prevent them from trembling.
“Kali,” I whisper with concern for her mental state.
Without thought, I tug her into my arms, holding her tightly against my chest and cupping the back of her head.
“Shh, baby.” I kiss the top of her head, lingering there as her body shudders within my arms.
Jesus. Fuck. I don’t know what to do here. How did she go from laughter to tears in a matter of seconds? And more importantly, what caused the shift?
Eventually, she pulls out of my embrace, hastily rubs underneath her eyes, and stares back at the lake hundreds of feet below us.
“Damn, that felt good.”
At first, I don’t know how to respond, but the fear and irritation and a collection of other emotions collide inside me into a sharp, “Just what the hell was that?”
“That was releasing forty-seven.”
“What?” I scoff in confusion.
“I’m forty-seven,” she whispers, like it’s a secret, or perhaps a curse, when she’s still a baby in my eyes. “And what do I have to show for it?”
She continues to speak to the mountain. The lake. The trees. Anywhere but at me.
“Three beautiful children. The end of a marriage. I’ve given my heart to a cheater. A liar. A thief. And for what? To end up alone, again and again, even when I was still married.” She inhales deeply. “Why? Because I look like this?” She waves up and down her body, like she’s a showcase model.
I don’t see anything wrong with—
“I mean, I get it that I’ve gained some weight. I’m menopausal. And I don’t look as young as I once did. Because I’m fucking tired.” She blows out a heavy sigh. “But Jesus, it’s not like Connor was still perfect. He’s losing his hair.”
Holy shit! He is?
“And it wasn’t like he was still slim and trim.” She wiggles as she waves her hands around her midsection. “He was starting to look like his father.”
I wrinkle my nose, having met his dad when I was younger.
“And suddenly he didn’t want sex.” She gasps, jabbing a finger at her chest. “With me.”
For half a second, I fear she’s about to break down again. But as she stands taller, staring off into the distance, I notice her shoulders settle, her head lifts higher, and her breath levels out.
I didn’t know how to relate to her predicament.
I’ve been a serial dater, valuing monogamy but never taking relationships to that permanent level.
I’ve worked hard, played harder, and have the means to celebrate my success, but now I don’t know what to do with myself.
As for the cheaters, liars, and thieves of this world, I’ve experienced my own collection.
As for Kali and her body and her lack of sex, I didn’t get it. Connor was just dumb.
But the loneliness? That I understand.
I’m standing on a rock next to a virtual stranger, sharing a magnificent wonder of nature.
Something is definitely missing here.
Cupping Kali’s cheek, although she isn’t looking at me, I brush my thumb over her soft skin, catching one final tear that escapes the corner of her eye.
Suddenly, kissing her feels like a necessity and also a mistake.
She’s a whirlwind of emotions right now, and I don’t want to turn a tornado into a category five hurricane. I also don’t want to add to her pile of regrets.
Still, I want to bring her back into my arms and kiss her until she forgets Connor or any other person who doesn’t value her.
Doesn’t appreciate her body or her heart or whatever else she has given away with no return.
I want to erase the pain of her thinking she’s alone, especially in this powerful moment.
I want her to know how beautiful she is.
Instead, I fight my own selfish desires and just let her feel hers.
When she finally nods, which removes her face from my hand, she says, “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.” She bends to pick up her small backpack without glancing my way, and I wonder how many countless times I’ve said the same thing in my life when I’ve felt any way other than fine.
As she turns to step from the large boulder, I hop down first and reach for her hips, lifting her up and off the rock.
She huffs, like I’ve exerted unwarranted energy, when lifting her was hardly a hardship. Setting her on her own feet and releasing her is the issue.
As she walks in front of me, I marvel that she doesn’t seem to know who I am, what I’ve done. Then again, I’ve been out of the game and in the dugout for nearly a decade. Still, I’m surprised Connor never mentioned me. He used to toss my name around like he was the important one on a ballfield.
Maybe he finally learned he’d rather have friends who value him for who he is.
Then again, those people are probably cheaters and liars and thieves like him.
As I don’t want to think about Connor, I focus on Kali. The gentle power in her legs as we climb the path. The shift of her hips with her slower movements. The glow of her hair in the sunlight.
She is a ray of sunshine despite the splash of rain from her tears.
I could continue to question what all that was about or where it came from, but deep down, I understand.
Each year brings its own powerful number. Fifty-two feels colossal.
When we eventually return to my truck, three hours have passed since we first arrived, and Kali sheepishly asks if she can poke around in the park gift shop.
Her sudden quiet has been disarming. We didn’t talk much on the ride here, and I attributed that to the pre-dawn hours.
She didn’t speak much during our hike other than to ask questions about the area, which I answered as best I could.
It's been a long time since I’ve been to the park. Too long since I’ve been to this area. And suddenly, I’m thankful to have Kali present, if for no other reason than another person is with me.
I’m not alone. And I don’t want her to feel alone either.