Page 91 of Falling Back to You

“When’s the last time you’ve been up here?” I asked Dial.

“Gosh, it’s been years. I think the last time was with you, when you rescued the bear cub that got stuck in the dumpster.”

“I remember that. You kept yelling at me to hurry up with your head on a swivel, looking for the cub’s parents.”

“Momma bears can be vicious if they think their cubs are in danger.”

I chuckled at the flashback of Dial anxiously pleading with me to speed things up. “That was hilarious.”

“It was terrifying. I could barely see, and the cub was crying out for help. I swore we were going to be mauled to death. Hopefully there are no bear encounters on this trip.”

I glanced back at Maple, who was fully immersed in her game with earphones on. “Uhm… are you okay with how things went down last night?” I needed reassurance that what had happened wasn’t just a momentary lapse of judgment on Dial’s part.

“I didn’t like you cheating during Uno, but everything else I enjoyed.”

“Cheating? Me?”

She hooted. “You hid cards.”

“I would never.”

“You one hundred percent would.” She turned her attention to the road, appearing interested in the passing scenery more than normal.

My grip tightened around the steering wheel. Less than ten hours ago I was basking in the afterglow of sex with Dial, too high to think clear. But now my emotions were tempered. I didn’t have the strength to get my hopes up, because in the past when I did, they were dashed.

“Seriously, I wanna make sure you’re okay with how this is progressing. If there’s anything I can do to improve this experience—”

“You sound like a customer service rep.” Dial checked on Maple to confirm she wasn’t listening. “Maybe we should put a pin in this conversation for now.”

“I understand that, but I just need to know we’re on the same page. Hell, it doesn’t even need to be the same page, as long as we’re referring to the same playbook.”

Dial’s expression was pained, her voice barely above a whisper when she said, “I don’t think this is as simple as flipping a switch or making declarations and expecting that to change everything.”

“I’m not looking for simple. We were never that. But I’m committed to trying, ten toes down.”

“Understood.” She was doing her Punxsutawney Phil thing, where she’d peek her head out, check her environment, and then quickly duck back into her habitat before declaring six more weeks of frost.

“Say it.”

“What?” She worried her bottom lip.

“There’s something nagging at you. So just speak so we can figure it out.”

Frown lines creased her forehead as she sifted through her thoughts. “It’s not just us. We have Maple to think of. She deserves parents who take her feelings into consideration. You saw how happy she was this morning at breakfast. Of course she wants us together, but if we can’t figure it out, I’d rather we just not try. We can’t be the old Dial and Oz, getting back together only to be at odds a few months later. It’s so much bigger than you and me.”

Loving Dial Birch was not for the faint of heart. “I understand what you’re saying, but we’ve done a really good job of keeping our personal relationship separate from our parental one. And I hope we can continue to do that, but sometimes you have to make a mess to get to the good parts, darling.”

“We know how messy we can get. I will not have Maple caught up in the middle of our tornado.” Turning up the radio, she let the music fill the silence.

Dial made valid points—there was more to consider this go-round—but I’d been working out the logistics of us for years. As much as I hated to admit it, we had to get this right, because this time Maple was watching. Who was I kidding? She’d always been a witness to our pretend civility. Maybe she was too young to put a name to it, but eventually, when she reflected on her childhood, she’d be able to point out the pockets of dysfunction we’d been unsuccessful at hiding. Which was why I wanted to replace those odd-shaped memories with tangible ones.

We pulled up at my favorite campsite right, next to the river. Maple wasted no time jumping out of the Jeep. Handing her a folding chair, I instructed her to set them up. I grabbed the two coolers, one filled with drinks and the other with food, and set them near the circle of chairs. Dial collected the odds and ends and placed them on top of the erected folding table.

“Can I check the water?” Maple asked.

The river was just steps from our campsite, so we both felt comfortable giving her the green light. Dial, being Dial, immediately started organizing the table. A section for paper plates and plastic utensils, a spot for the speaker, a row of water guns.

“You know, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”