It’s just…shy. But it has friends. Who cares if those friends run on batteries? They get the job done.
Maria arches her brows and glances toward that area of my anatomy. “I’m just saying that it might do you some good to spend a week in the wilderness with a big, strong forest ranger who’s been isolated out in the mountains and hasn’t seen another woman for the better part of two years.”
Like a week in Aspen might have done me some good, six months ago. Instead it did me some bad.
So I’m not going anywhere. “My only plan this summer is to lie on the couch in my pajamas and binge-watch everything on Netflix.”
“Oh my god, that sounds like heaven.” Her expression becomes pained. “Did I tell you what Dan and the kids are already planning for our vacation? Camping, camping, and more camping. The only break I’m getting this summer is the time I’ll spend hiding in an outhouse. And even then, one of the boys will probably barge in. Can I come live with you? Please?”
“I offered to share my couch with you last year,” I remind her. “You said no, that you were looking forward to spending time with your family.”
“I was a silly fool, with a head full of girlish dreams.”
I shrug. “No second chances. Sorry.”
“Fine.” She stabs into her salad. “But don’t expect an invite to our Fourth of July barbecue.”
“So you’re just going to hang out with your family and all the other teachers you invite? You gonna spend some quality time with effing Lauren? I hope you buy a lot of booze.”
She gives a little mock sob. “You’re so mean. Okay, you can come. But only if you bring Sergeant Sam, because I actually like her.”
My sister, Samantha. “You just want someone from the sheriff’s department there as a guest in case of noise complaints.”
“That’s only partially true. Because those damn Carlisles complain every year. But no way in hell am I inviting those assholes over. Oh, but wait.” She grimaces. “Maybe we don’t want Sam there. Dan’s already gone up to Washington and bought fireworks.”
The kind of big, rocket-style fireworks that are illegal here in Oregon. But that’s no surprise. Driving across the state line to buy fireworks is a yearly pilgrimage for half the county. “Yeah, Dan and everyone else in town. I doubt Sam will go rummaging through his stash. The city will probably ban all fireworks again by then, anyway.”
“You think that stopped most of my neighborhood last year?” With a roll of her eyes, she pushes away from the door frame. “Who cares if we’re toasted by wildfires, am I right? Gotta get that Independence Day celebration on.”
“Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum aren’t enough for some people, I guess.”
“Don’t forget Bill Pullman. That is a speech for the ages. No joke, I use that clip as my intro to Dylan Thomas.”
“I’m not sure if that’s awesome or scary.”
“It’s awesome. Alien invasions are scary. So…I’ll leave you to set up for Ranger Ranger.” She grins slyly. “And maybe you start thinking about that plane ticket to Anchorage.”
“Fairbanks is closer to him.”
“So you’ve already thought about it.” Slowly Maria walks past the door, and just before she vanishes from sight, tips back her head back for a parting, “Do not go gentle into that good night, my dear. Rage, rage against the rusting of the vagina.”
“It’s just shy,” I mutter into my sandwich before ripping out a bite.
But she’s right. I’ve thought about it. I think about it all the time. “Thinking about it” is as far as I get, though. Even before Aspen, that was only as far as I got—crushing on Ranger from afar, with no intention of making it into something real.
Ask my sister, Sam—I never ask her, but she’s always happy to give her opinion anyway—and she’d say the only reason I started crushing in the first place is because Ranger is safe to crush on. He’s big and growly and smart, which hits all of my buttons, but he’s also stationed in a remote Alaskan wilderness three thousand miles away. So every week, we exchange a few texts and emails, mostly about upcoming lessons, then have a flirty little chat during the video setup and before the students start filing into class. Well, I have a flirty chat. Ranger mostly just grunts his responses and watches me onscreen with a fierce intensity that I feel all the way down to my toes. But that’s all there is between us. And I know that’s all it’ll ever be. So according to my sister, there’s no expectations and no chance of getting hurt, and that’s why I’m so crazy about him.
I don’t think Sam is all wrong. But she’s not all right, either. I don’t have any expectations. Yet the pain is there, anyway. That feeling of wanting so much, it hurts. A feeling that has only deepened throughout the year.