Chapter 13: Obvious

When we got home, it was turning into one of those wondrous autumn nights that grace the mountains in early fall. Crisp, rarified air was descending from on high. Stars that we should not have been able to see were abundantly brilliant. A gauze of tree limbs fixed the pointillist heavens into a cracked-glass mosaic and a slender breeze swayed the leaves around us just enough to delight the ears. Heather and I bypassed the house altogether and strolled arm and arm to the backyard.

“Push me on the swing?” she murmured.

I led her to the old wooden plank that hung from an exceedingly high branch. She’d noticed the apparatus the previous day when I gave her the tour. I’d promised her a ride.

Before my dad died, he’d scaled the tree and climbed out on the sturdy limb in order to secure this pendulous seat. Lara and I used to play on it when we were younger, though in recent years it was rarely used. We would occasionally see our moms using it, usually on days that had special importance to them with regard to our dad.

Heather settled down and grasped the thick ropes. She let out a contented sigh as I pushed her with slightly more than a caress, taking a small step backward after each gentle nudge. It was lazy exercise, since the swing and its precious cargo spent almost six seconds going forth and then returning.

“Ooooh,” Heather breathed. “So smooth!”

I knew exactly what she meant. The ropes were very long, such that the rider moved close to the ground for a good distance, giving the impression of effortlessly gliding through the air.

I was careful to avoid pressing against the scrapes on her back. After some time and repeated sighing, the bench was reaching eye level. Heather had kicked her shoes off. I guessed that she was flying some thirty feet each way. Given the contented sounds coming from her throat, I knew she was enjoying it.

“This is so cool. What an awesome day!”

“Yeah, totally,” I agreed.

“Great time on the river. And I beat your butt at fly-fishing!”

Since we’d each caught one more fish with the fly rod, Heather had claimed a ten-eight victory.

“You did good, for your first outing,” I said, deciding to ignore the comment.

“Thanks! Next time I’ll know what I’m actually doing from the start, so you won’t have it so easy.”

“Funny. But it’ll probably have to wait until the spring, unless you surprise me and come up again this fall,” I said wistfully.

“I wish, Matt.”

“But Thanksgiving will be great. It was cool of your parents to invite us down to Montauk, even if we do have a place to stay.”

“I know. And I’m already missing you. I can’t wait for it.”

I continued my intervallic impulses, breathing with each stroke and getting into a slow rhythm as I kept her oscillating through the night air.

“How’s your back?”

“It’s fine. Thanks for not pushing on it,” she said sweetly.

“Do you want to try to finish the blackouts for the window? I think I got some good shots of you fishing, so maybe we can develop them tomorrow.”

“Sure. A few more minutes on the swing, and then we can go.”

I gave her a couple of harder thrusts and then stepped a little beyond the center of her trajectory. I gauged her path and then selected a spot on the grass where her legs would just clear my body if I reclined on the ground. Heather giggled as she flew toward me and then sailed over my head.

“Bring back memories?” I asked.

“Of course,” she answered, her voice full of warmth.

“Can you believe that was less than two months ago?”

“Really? Feels like I’ve known you forever.”

“I know.”

“August eleventh,” she mused happily. “Our first kiss.”

I lay back onto the grass, watching as Heather sailed over me, each time with a little less energy.

“Do you have to leave tomorrow?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Can you hide me somewhere?”

“The woods are big,” I offered.

“Ooh, maybe we can build a tiny cabin where I can live. No one else in the world would know about it. And you can come visit me everyday.”

“You’d get bored.”

“Hardly. I’d never be bored if I saw you every day.”

The near apex of her swing was not enough to reach me anymore. She hopped off onto the grass and let the momentum carry her toward me. She fell down atop me, planting a kiss on my lips. We spent a long time there, looking at the reflection of the stars in each other’s eyes.

When I returned to the house late that night, I wasn’t surprised to find Lara in my room again, reading.

“What’s up?”

“Shh. This is getting good,” she said, waving me away dismissively.

“Um, you’re actually in my bed, if you haven’t noticed.”

She ignored me, deeply invested her novel. When I returned from the bathroom ready to retire, she had the book flat on her chest.

“Now can I have my bed please?”

Lara slid toward the wall and patted the sheets. “How’s Heather?”

I hesitated a moment and then lay down next to her. “Good. We finished the blackout for the darkroom windows. Then she fell asleep right away.”

“Wore her out, huh?”

“Long day on the river.”

“How was it? Mom said they hardly saw you.”

“It was ... really awesome.”

I gave her a rundown of the fishing action. Lara laughed at Heather’s ridiculously mangled scoring scheme.

“You ain’t never going to win, boy!” she whooped. “But I can’t believe you didn’t bring back any trout for me!”

I looked at her sheepishly. “We just decided to cook them right there after all.”

“Lucky shits. So, did you get any other action?”

“Yeah. It was actually a bit crazy. We did it on that big boulder. You know, the one where I met Alana.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And let’s just say we almost got caught!”

Lara’s eyes lit up. “By our parents?”

“No, by a family that was tubing.”

“Ooh, sounds exciting!”

“It was. I swear, sex with Heather is amazing, but mostly it’s also a crazy adventure. I think we’ve only ever done it once in a bed.”

Lara laughed. “Cool. Did you tell her about Alana, then?”

I felt my heart sink. “No. I started to, but then she distracted me.”

“Matt!”

“What?” I retorted. “It wasn’t the right time.”

“Never is.”

“Hey, come on. I have, like, three days with her. Less, even. I don’t want to make the weekend awkward with something that’s not even all that important.”

“And yet you sound nervous.”

“No, I’m not worried! It’s just...” I struggled for words. “It’s not a big deal. I will tell her sometime, okay, but just not right now.”

She shrugged. “Last month you said you were going to tell her in person, and now you’re not.”

“What’s your beef with this anyway?”

“It’s not a big deal, but if you keep not telling her, it’ll become a big deal that you didn’t. Just trying to keep you honest, that’s all.”

“Fuck, that’s not fair, Lara.”

She sighed. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. Just friendly advice, but you don’t need it, so whatever.”

I softened some. “Look, I know what you’re getting at. But I feel like this is all blown out of proportion now. Heather doesn’t tell me every time she goes out and hangs out with people, and it’s fine.”

“You should at least tell her you’ve been smoking pot. What if she’s not into that?”

“When the time is right. I promise,” I said with finality. “Let’s talk about something else. We’re just going around in circles here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I appreciate you speaking up, but I think for now, just let me handle this one.”

I stared at the ceiling, searching in vain for another topic. Part of me just wanted to ask her to leave, but I needed to end the conversation on a better note. Lately, I felt my connection with Lara becoming weaker every time we talked. I wondered if it was just the Alana thing she seemed fixated on, or if something else was going on with her.

“So, how’s your essay?” I finally asked, alighting on the only thing that came to mind.

“Easy. Blasted out a thousand and twelve words in under an hour. Done.”

“Wow. If only I could write that quickly, it wouldn’t take me seven years to write a novel.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You’ve never written a book,” Lara dismissed, looking at me funny.

“I know, I was just joking,” I said hastily. “But I thought your essay was going to be an all-day event. You could’ve come fishing after all!”

Lara grinned impishly. “I was entertaining a guest.”

Oh, of course. That’s why she stayed home. I should’ve guessed, I suppose. Images of them fucking flashed through my head, but I hurriedly pushed them aside.

“Pete was here,” I observed evenly.

Lara sniffed, her eyes sparkling. “Duh! He was helping with my essay!”

“Right. I’m sure he added those extra twelve words.” I tried to keep my voice light, even though I was suddenly feeling anxious again.

“It may have been less than that! It was a really fun afternoon. I’m going to be a little sore tomorrow, though.”

“I thought you were going to go easy on him.”

“I will, eventually. But first I have to make up for the last two months of celibacy!” she explained.

“Oh, I see. And then let me guess, you have to make up for his last fifteen years?”

“Ooh, good point!” Lara agreed. “And besides, he’s so cute when—”

“I really don’t need to hear whatever you’re about to say next, thanks.”

Lara chuckled. “All right. But I think by the time it was over, he was a little blown away.”

“Yeah, I bet. Kind of like going from zero to sixty in three seconds, with you.” Despite the banter, I was feeling detached from the bed. Am I getting sick?

“How would you know?”

“Just saying. I know how your summer with James was.”

“You’re one to talk, Mister I-had-sex-on-a-boulder-in-front-of-the-whole-world.”

“Okay, get out of here. This conversation is going nowhere fast and I’m beat.”

“Fine, kick me out of your bed,” she pouted.

I said nothing, closing my eyes and issuing a fake snore to underscore my point.

Lara rose. “Goodnight Matt. Hope you have a good last day with Heather. And hey, I trust you, but I also ... I also love you so much and don’t ever want to see you hurt again.”

I opened an eye. She was standing by the foot of the bed.

“I know, Lara. Thanks.”

She returned to her room. I took some deep breaths, trying to settle my insides. Please don’t let me get sick. That was the last thing I needed on Heather’s final day.

The next morning, with a bit of trial and error, Heather and I produced the first set of prints in the assembling darkroom. Each of us drew on our experience from our photography classes to make it work. There was one particularly nice photo of her with the fly line curled in the air, so I reprinted an eight-by-ten for myself. This ability to impulsively make any print I wanted felt both immensely decadent and deeply satisfying. Heather liked one of me standing on the bank, grinning with my fourteen-inch ‘meaty one’ in hand. The original shot was taken from some distance, so she cropped it closer and blew it up to fill another eight-by-ten sheet for herself.

Heather hummed appreciatively as the photo came out of the rinse tray. The final product was as if from a different era. The film grain helped to make it seem like I had the beginnings of a beard, and the shadows accented my physique in a good way. It was a rare picture of myself where I actually thought I looked quite a bit like my dad.

“You look so hot,” Heather cooed appreciatively.

“If you say so.”

“That’s going up on the wall in my bedroom,” she added.

“Mine too,” I agreed.

“So what’s the plan today?” she asked me, once we’d cleaned up the supplies.

“Do you still want to hear my band?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, I’ll call them and see if they can come at two, instead of tonight.”

“Can’t wait to hear you play.”

“Don’t get too excited. Like I told you, Bruno probably won’t want to sing. You might just end up listening to a bunch of riffs and random jams.”

Heather grinned. “I don’t care. What are we doing now, then?”

“I don’t know. Lunch in a little while. We can go for a walk in the woods after.”

“That sounds great. Lock the door,” she ordered.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And switch back to the red light. It’s my turn to be the enlarger!”

I sniggered after I got the joke. “That was bad, Heather.”

“I know! But sometimes you just have to, you know? Now get over here.”

As my eyes readjusted to the safety lamp, Heather grabbed me and pulled me toward the bed, ready to pack eleven minutes of fun in before we had to return to the house for the lunch meal. This darkroom business had its collateral advantages, I was realizing. Any unexpected knock could be deflected by saying there was a print development in progress. That would give us a good while to disentangle our bodies before having to open the door.

No matter, though. No one knocked, and Heather quickly took me to the far side of bliss in that enflamed room.

I was slightly apprehensive about presenting Heather to my friends. There would inevitably be teasing and annoying questions for the rest of the week. And yet, I was eager to have them meet. It seemed that all the guys were involved with girls now, so I didn’t want to be left out. There was also the small idea in the back of my mind that they still might not believe Heather was real unless they met her. Carl had already admitted he’d thought as much before seeing the photos of her.

The Martins had packed, since they were to leave right after the rehearsal was over. When my friends arrived, the nervous energy made me act foolish. Unsure of how to introduce Heather, I stumbled with words and generally acted out of sorts. I rushed to have everyone get their gear into the cabin before anything more than brief hellos were exchanged.

Carl seemed most put out by my huffy attitude. Eventually he made a comment to Bruno, too loudly, about how Heather looked just like she did in the pictures. Heather gave me a slightly amused, questioning look.

“I showed them some shots from the summer,” I muttered, realizing there was no way to indicate to her that it was only the tame ones they’d seen. Silently, I cursed Carl, giving him a glare when my back was turned to Heather.

The unexpected arrival of Mina and Randi added to the confusion. I found myself feeling upset at the decision to have the rehearsal after all. With Lara dropping in now, the four girls soon were sitting at the cabin’s dining table with sodas in hand, conversing about random things. I wondered if Heather would have the chance to listen to our band at all. After trying a few times to get them to quiet down with vague hints, we simply started playing. As expected, Bruno wouldn’t sing, so very soon things grew tedious as riffs led nowhere and we screwed up transitions because there was no vocal reference to guide us.