CHAPTER 8 - BELLY UP

There was a restaurant inside the Emerald Bay State Park where you could eat while continuing to admire the view, and we had lunch overlooking the bay and the lake. I forgot to eat sometimes (and honestly, I can't remember what we ate), getting caught up in all the hues of blue, green, and white that I still couldn't quite believe I was surrounded with. We ate slowly, ordered dessert and then coffee, making them all last longer than necessary just so we could stare a little longer.

My breath got caught sometimes when I realized we were there, just the two of us, in what seemed like a parallel dimension, where we had access to all this beauty plus all the time in the world, time to drink coffee with a view that didn't include blood or tears. Where we'd just admitted to not knowing what was going on between us after a hand-in-hand stroll at the beach.

Elliot's voice interrupted my daydreaming. "You know… I had a lot of fun with everyone yesterday, but this… This is nice."

It warmed my heart that he was happy spending time with me, just me. "Yeah, it is. Remind me again why we never do stuff like this." We. Even then it seemed dangerous to gamble with that word, but it felt so good. I was becoming addicted at a fast rate.

Luckily (or maybe not so much), he was playing with it too. "Well, we're usually busy… working…"

I smiled. "Oh yeah, I'd almost forgotten about that."

When Elliot excused himself to go to the restroom, I took the opportunity to pay for our meal, sensing he wasn't going to let me chip in otherwise. He seemed surprised when he came back to find that the check had already been taken care of, but didn't make a big deal out of it, and once I'd gone to the restroom as well and bought us a couple of water bottles for the rest of our little road trip, we were on our way.

Elliot suggested we stopped at Tahoe City on our drive back, and I was amazed at how he had really worked on a whole itinerary for our day. When had he had time to come up with all that? Maybe that's what he was doing while I was freaking out in my room the night before – much more productive.

We stopped at Commons Beach, which was about a half-hour drive from our previous destination and also stunning. We walked a trail right next to the shoreline all the way to a marina, admiring the sight of the lake from this point of view and keeping our hands tucked away in our pockets and a few feet of distance, probably sensing instinctively that Emerald Bay had been a bit more intense than either of us had planned or anticipated.

I admired the mountains from a distance, all covered in white and so perfectly outlined against the sky that it all almost looked like a cardboard background. As we walked, each gathered with their own thoughts, I remembered when we were right up there, about twenty-four hours earlier, and I had asked him to bring me here. I wasn't used to receiving what I asked so easily, but in that moment I knew that I could get used to it. The realization sent a chill throughout my body that had nothing to do with the cold wind that had just started picking up.

From the pier, we walked to the main street of Tahoe City, which was packed with stores and restaurants. We had just eaten, and I didn't want to buy anything, so we just made one stop there, at a gift shop, because Elliot wanted to get a few souvenirs for his kids.

As he chose a few Tahoe-themed t-shirts, mugs, and keychains, I wondered if he was also getting anything for Kathy. That simple thought sent a wave of unease coursing through my body that was almost like a physical pain, because I couldn't shake the feeling that him thinking of her inside that stupid store somehow canceled our entire day together. I was mad at myself for letting the mere hypothesis spoil the day even in the slightest, but the way I was feeling because of it made me really scared about the feelings this trip was stirring inside me.

I realized I was having some trouble breathing, so I faked a smile to Elliot and told him I would wait outside, not giving him any particular reason. I'm not sure he noticed my mood change on our way back to the car, but I sure tried my best to hide it.

As he got in, he took off my scarf from around his neck and put it in one of the gift shop bags before tossing them at the backseat. I knew it was stupid, but I resented that he did that; what if that was the bag containing whatever present he was taking to his wife? I wanted to be as separated as I could from her. Now that I knew what it was like to be a whole country away from her, I realized how much I liked it. Even worse: I was beginning to need it.

Anyway, I didn't want him asking me the reason for my grumpiness – what was I supposed to say? I'm jealous because you might have bought a stupid present for your almost-ex-wife even though I have no right to feel like that? So I just sucked it up and focused on the stunning view on the drive back to Truckee, the town that was closest to our resort. The sun started going down, so we drove along that beautiful shore surrounding the lake while the sunset painted all the colors it wanted around us. At one point, I was so overwhelmed by the beauty that I felt my eyes tearing up.

Of course he noticed that. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, eyebrows knit with a confused smile.

"Yeah," I said, my voice slathered with way too many emotions I couldn't make sense of or summarize in a simple sentence. Not even a complicated sentence. I waved at my window. "It's just so beautiful… It's…too much." I shook my head and shrugged, keeping my eyes on him this time. "I'm happy; that's all."

The confusion lifted from his smile as it grew a lot wider, and I caught myself staring at his lips and realizing how much I liked his chin and his neck. I smiled back, my glance protected behind the tinted lenses of my sunglasses as he reluctantly turned to look ahead. "Good," he said.

I turned the radio on and flipped through the stations, looking for songs we liked this time instead of bantering about gospel music: it gave us an opportunity to talk about our taste in music, which was actually surprisingly similar – although we did tease each other about a few questionable preferences.

A song from a famous movie's soundtrack got us talking about movies too, and even books, although neither of us had a lot of time to read, especially Elliot. He said he'd been reading more lately, now that he was living on his own, that he was finding out it was quite a pleasant pastime to fight the loneliness and the silence, and it made me wonder what it must be like to have so much noise and people around you at home every day that you can't focus on a book.

By the time we arrived at the car rental, the sky was already a dark hue of blue as night was quickly setting in, and we continued talking on the short walk back to the hotel. Of all possible subjects we could be discussing, we were engrossed in a heated discussion about whether cockroaches always turned on their backs when they died or not. I was insisting that I had never found a dead roach not lying on its back, and Elliot tried to be a smartass by telling me that all I needed to do was hit one with a shoe and I would see it dead on its stomach. The truth is neither of us cared about how roaches died at all, the fun of it was challenging and annoying each other.

It was already dark night when we walked through the resort's main entrance, and the skating rink was lit up and full of fast-moving people, surrounded by the buzz of the village as the bars and restaurants filled for the night. Elliot really had planned our whole day, which included dinner with Allie and her group at a Mexican place there, but we still had some time to go back to our rooms and change.

"If you wanna go, of course," he said as we hopped into the shuttle to the main building. "If you're tired or you would just rather not go…"

I remembered our conversation about how Kelly annoyed me in the morning, and I decided that saying no to this dinner might not be the best idea if I didn't want him to think I held any grudges against her for no reason. "No, that's okay. I think it will be fun," I smiled, then stared at him a little as he sat with the gift shop's offending bags hanging from his fingers between his legs. "When did you have time to set it up?" I asked with a crooked smile. "We left the bar before all of them did last night and kind of suddenly."

"I was talking to the guys about Emerald Bay, and they suggested that we met them for dinner after we came back," he clarified. "While I was at the store, Matt called me to tell me which restaurant and what time. They were skiing all day again today."

My clothes were covered in sand from the walks on both beaches in the windy weather, so I took them off and stepped into the shower. There was quite the amount of sand in my hair too, requiring a bit more shampoo than usual. I blow-dried it since we'd be going out in the cold again pretty soon and got dressed. I picked a wool blouse that I liked, put on my gold necklaces and applied some make-up, nothing too fancy, but maybe a little more mascara than usual, a different color of eyeshadow, that sort of thing.

I wanted to look pretty, swearing to myself there was no special reason for that.

To my surprise, I was ready before Elliot, so I didn't find him waiting for me outside my room. I waited for a minute, all the while fighting the urge to knock, but I didn't resist for very long – I was doing it before I knew it, and similar to the way I'd felt scared back in the gift shop, I was scared now about how impulsively I was acting. It was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I couldn't keep my knuckles to myself.

He didn't give me much time to scowl at my hands, opening the door so fast that it was as if he'd been waiting next to it or something. "Come on in, I'm almost ready," he said, a hand to the forearm I wasn't holding my coat and scarf with as he chewed on something.

I furrowed my brow, puzzled. "What are you eating? Aren't we about to have dinner?"

"It's just some peanuts," he pointed at the coffee table, where a laptop computer sat next to a beer bottle and a small bowl with peanuts. "Do you want any? Or a beer?"

I didn't answer. "You brought your computer?"

"Yeah, I was hoping to talk to the kids online, you know, video chats or whatever they call it." He walked over to the table and retrieved his beer bottle. He took a swig of it, waving at the computer as he spoke. "We did one the first week they were away, so I figured… Hasn't happened yet though."

"I'm sorry, El," I said, approaching him, and he extended the beer bottle to me in a silent offer. I took it and drank from it, the domesticity not lost on me.

"Check this out," he said, sitting down on the couch and pressing the space key to make the screen light up. "I found this for you; come take a look."

He stood up again, making no effort to contain his cocky grin, and I wondered what could be so funny; I didn't even need to sit all the way down before I'd caught sight of the title of the article he was showing me: In Nature, Cockroaches Don't Die Belly Up.

I laughed wholeheartedly as he walked away from me. "Is this what you've been doing instead of getting ready? I can't believe you actually did research on this."

"I think you owe me a beer," he said from behind the wall dividing the living room area from the actual bedroom.

"No, I don't!" I raised my voice to carry my protest through. "We didn't really bet on it."

"You fucking kidding me?" he said, playful, making me bite my lower lip as I smiled.

It was such a stupid thing, but I somehow felt proud that a silly discussion like that would still be in his mind long enough to make him go online to try and find the answer just so he could torture me with it. I tried really hard not to read too much into it. But I did. And then didn't. I felt my grasp on reality rapidly escaping, one voice in my head screaming that everything meant something and another telling me I was crazy.

He came back, haphazardly rolling my scarf around his neck, and I stood up to go help him.

"You're making a mess," I said, taking over scarf duty.

Unintentionally looking into the bedroom, I caught sight of an empty beer bottle on the nightstand, next to the telephone. I carefully wrapped the scarf around his neck, happy to see it no longer associated with the souvenirs: it was ours again. I swallowed as I felt his cool breath against my face, a faint smell of beer. I risked looking up, and he was staring at me with a smirk. "What?" I asked.

He just shook his head and smiled. "We did bet on it, and you know it."

I couldn't contain my smile, but I tried to hide it by focusing on the scarf, already properly positioned a few hand movements ago. I pulled at it one last time and looked up at him. "Thank you. For today. I had a great time."

To my surprise, he covered my hands with his around the scarf. "Of course," he said. "So did I."

When we got to the restaurant, everyone was already there, and they were all really excited to hear about our day which, at this point, everyone knew about. They were having some nachos as an entree and drinking cocktails, so we joined in and started telling them. Elliot motioned for me to speak, and I told them how he had planned this whole day for us without me even suspecting anything.

Matt, Kyle, and Alvin claimed to have helped him figure out the itinerary, and he confirmed it.

"The beach combo never fails," Kyle said, elbowing Matt and eyeing Elliot with a few suspicious wiggles of his eyebrows. I tried looking at Elliot inquisitively, but he just dismissed them with a wave.

I noticed Kelly was a bit quiet in the middle of all the conversation, something I already knew by now not to be a typical thing for her. I wondered if she was jealous that I'd spent the day alone with Elliot, and I hated the satisfaction that possibility massaged my ego with. She was sitting across from me, next to Alvin and Greg – the latter, by the way, didn't seem very thrilled about our day either.

"So did you go skiing again?" I asked her, not sure if I wanted to survey her for her sudden quietness or if I actually felt sorry that she looked a little left out. Maybe it was both.

She smiled, and when she spoke, I noticed she was slurring a little – she did seem to be downing those drinks a bit quickly. "Yes, we did!" she said. "We missed you guys though. It's not that much fun when I'm the only beginner."

The speed of her alcohol intake seemed to ignite protective cop mode in me or something as she seemed to not be touching the food at all while gulping repeatedly at her cocktail. "Do you want some nachos?" I offered, bringing one of the little baskets closer to us and taking a bite myself just as the waiter brought my first drink.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," she shook her head very emphatically.

"But um… Don't you think you're going a little fast with those drinks?" I risked, nudging the basket of nachos slightly in her direction. "Here, try one."

"I don't want any," she whined, pouting like a baby, then looked up at me. "I miss my kid."

I cocked my head with surprise. "You have a kid?"

"A girl," she confirmed, the slur elongating the word quite a bit. "I was kinda young, she's fourteen now."

"That's…" I started, with no clue about how to finish that sentence.

Luckily, I didn't have to: out of nowhere, she reached for my arms, latching her hands firmly around my wrists. "Olivia, you're so beautiful."

I laughed with some surprise and a hint of anxiety. "Why, thank you…"

She squeezed me. "No, you are. You're stunning."

I shook my head and took a quick look around to see if anybody was listening, but everyone seemed distracted with other conversations, including Elliot – I think I heard something about hockey practice the next day. "You're very beautiful yourself, Kelly," I conceded.

She let go of one of my wrists so she could wave her hand. "Nah, I'm common. You have a different kind of beauty. You're unique."

I noticed Elliot's head turning in my direction and caught his glance at the scene, Kelly holding my hand, complimenting my looks. He smiled, looking intrigued, as if waiting for a sign from me about whether everything was alright – like I even knew.

"Olivia," Kelly tugged at my hand, making me look at her again. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

I rushed her to the bathroom and shoved her into a stall just in time for her to start barfing into the toilet. I sighed; how had I ended up here, holding up Kelly's hair while she threw up?

When the retching subsided, she sat back, resting against the side of the stall as I crouched next to her. "Thanks, Olivia," she said. "And I'm sorry."

"Is everything okay?" I asked. "Any reason you were drinking like that?"

She turned slowly to look at me, her eyes filled with tears ready to drop. "I miss my husband," she whimpered.

I couldn't contain it: my jaw dropped. "Your...h-husband? You're married?"

"Was," she corrected. "We're getting a divorce. That's why Matt brought me along. He's actually dangerous."

As if cop mode needed any more ammunition. "Dangerous how? Was he abusive?"

"Yes. He never hit me…just...shoved me around a little bit. Screamed at me. Called me a liar, a cheater." She took my hand again, a very tight grip. "I didn't cheat, Olivia, I swear."

I heard the voice I used on victims coming out of my mouth. "Did he threaten you?"

Kelly practically whimpered her reply. "He didn't want me to leave him. He said I'd never find someone who loved me like he did. He said I was trash and no one would want me. He said he'd kill me if he saw me with someone else."

"Abusive husbands say all that," I said soothingly with a hand to her shoulder. "Do you have a restraining order in place? Did you change your locks?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that," she slurred, with a hand to her forehead. "It's all taken care of."

"Well, I'm glad you were able to get out of it when you did," I said, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. I remembered Elliot that morning. She's been through some stuff. No kidding.

"I had a lot of help from my family, especially Matt," she told me.

"I'm really glad, Kelly." I held her arms and started pulling her up since it looked like she was done throwing up. "Come on, let's get out of here."

I led her to a sink and helped her wash her face. A woman came in then and made a face, judgment clear on her features: Kelly's mascara was sliding down her cheek after she'd thrown water at her eyes. I took a paper towel and did my best to help her look presentable again.

"What about you and Elliot?" she asked suddenly.

"What about us?" I deflected while my heart rate responded immediately.

I didn't want to say there was nothing between us. Not to her. Even in light of everything she'd just told me. Maybe even more now, because she looked more and more like a damsel in distress, and that really scared me: it was everything I wasn't, and I was always scared that what men wanted, above everything else, was someone to save. But then I remembered I wasn't supposed to be wondering what Elliot wanted in a woman. What the hell was I thinking?

"Come on, there's something there, right?" she smiled with hooded eyes. She looked like she was about to fall asleep. "The way he looks at you…"

I tried to come up with an answer, but nothing seemed appropriate. That was fine, though, because the next second, Kelly rushed back into the stall and started hurling again.

When I was finally able to bring Kelly back to the table, I noticed the group momentarily looking at us in a weird way before continuing to talk. I helped her sit down, then took a seat next to Elliot, not the same I'd been sitting in before: I just wanted to be close to him. I'd spent ten minutes away from him and I missed him. I wanted to be near him so badly that it scared me. I wanted to be alone with him.

As I sat, he instantly asked what was going on and if I was okay.

"I am; Kelly isn't," I informed him, then looked around. There were new rounds of nachos and cocktails, and most people were part of an enthusiastic conversation I didn't really get the hang of. Elliot was still looking at me, as though waiting for me to finish. I turned to him again.

I didn't plan it, it just rolled off my tongue. "Do you wanna get outta here?"

He nodded. "Sure, let's go."

His responsiveness surprised and alarmed me, and the heat I felt tingling in every cell of my body was overwhelming. I had no idea what I'd just invited him to, but he'd said yes and we were saying goodnights and leaving, my heart punishingly thumping in my chest.

I remembered I shouldn't read into it, but I was reading pages and pages. And writing a book about it, all words in desperate, capital letters. The voices were screaming in my head in a passionate argument, and they were so loud that I could barely hear myself gasping for air.

I felt like a crazy person. I felt like I was drowning. I felt like a stupid cockroach, waving my arms and legs desperately as I died, belly up.