Page 85 of The Professor's Wife

“Daisy,” I returned, shaking it. I couldn’t help glancing at her hand. The red manicure and tanned, smooth skin. I consciously hoped she didn’t feel how callused mine was.

When was the last time I’d put on moisturizer?

She was warm, chatty, and immediately made me feel welcome. Forrest’s cool eyes continued to regard me in an indecipherable way, though he would smirk and pitch in with a joke.

What was his problem, exactly?

“Where are you headed?” Forrest asked.

“Kind of going where the wind’s blowing,” Tristan answered, taking me by the hand now.

“The wind’s blowing toward our next campsite,” Forrest returned. “Follow us, all right? We’ve got a fridge full of meat and beer, so we’re shouting tonight’s dinner.”

“Yes, please,” Tania said happily. “Forrest’s been a drag lately. I need some entertainment.”

Before he agreed, Tristan looked at me, taking in my reaction. Forrest’s gaze settled on me, too, and it felt like a weight.

Did it look like Tristan was seeking my permission?

I smiled quickly and nodded.

“All right,” Tristan agreed. “Let’s do it.”

We ended up at a campground tucked between cedar trees and a languid river. There were other campers nearby. The air smelled like pine and woodsmoke. Tristan and Forrest built a fire while Tania and I prepared vegetables from our recent grocery shop.

It was easy, almost too easy.

Laughter and music floated between the vans, and for a few hours, I allowed myself to believe I belonged there. I wanted to blend in and pretend this could have been me in another reality. An adventurous person with friends and stories. I’d always wondered what that felt like.

Tania explained that the boys had decided to leave everything and take to the road. She emphasized that their work lives had practically chewed them up and spat them out. They had been moving in the same direction, but with Tristan planning to go to the island, they’d split up. They planned to meet again in the fall in a specific town on the coast somewhere I didn’t recognize.

“You’re going to be with Forrest the whole time?” I wondered.

Tania marinated the meat, shrugging. “Not the whole time, but as much as I can be. I’m going back home at the end of summer, before they’re supposed to meet up again.”

“So Forrest will be on his own?”

“Not for very long. There are some things he wants to do. Spearfishing and some hikes in remote places he’s put on a list somewhere. He can call me whenever he wants along the way. When he’s ready to come back, he’s going to put the van in storage, and we’ll resume next summer where he left off.”

Forrest wasn’t as strict with technology as Tristan was. He had the radio going full blast, and he and Tania had phones and a big screen for watching movies in the van.

He asked Tristan a lot of questions. Whether he’d picked up work along the way. Whether it was day labor or busking. Whether he stopped often to recharge in motel rooms and how his sleep was.

That seemed to be a big one.

How’s your sleep, Tristan?

As though he were an insomniac who hadn’t slept in years, and yet I hadn’t seen Tristan miss a night’s sleep unless we were preoccupied with each other.

We ate shish kebabs and salad and then made s’mores with tall sticks Tania and I had gathered. All the while, whenever I was near him, Tristan was attached to my hip. His hand was constantly on me, constantly touching me, constantly letting me know he was there and that he was going nowhere.

But as the sun dipped and the fire turned low, my body reminded me of its limits. I excused myself, ignoring Forrest’s heavy stare. I was going to be glad to get away from him, as awful as that sounded.

He watched me every chance he got.

I climbed into the van and fell into bed. With the overhead window open, the night air was cool against my skin, and I lay there listening—half-asleep, half-alert.

I heard Forrest’s voice first.