Beautifully Broken

I leave the room with as much urgency as possible, hoping I’m not being suspicious. I don’t risk looking back because I’m sure Ms. Roberts is watching me carefully. I know Gavin will find a way to explain what she saw, but I feel shitty for putting him in that position. I need to get my act together and I need to do it pronto.

I take Gavin’s advice and head back to the house. Frodo is sleeping on the couch when I walk through the front door. He stretches languidly as I sit next to him and bumps his head into my arm, begging for attention.

“Hi, buddy,” I say as I run my fingers through his soft fur from head to tail. This spurs him on even more—he moves to my lap and starts rubbing his body against my chest. I smile softly at what I assume is his attempt to comfort me. I once read that animals can sense when you’re in distress and they instinctively offer their support. I know he’s doing his best, but it’s not enough to lift the crushing weight in my chest.

As tenuous as our relationship was, Cybil’s death has left a gaping hole inside of me. I’ve never felt so alone. I realize how stupid that is—the people that I have left are closer to me than she ever was. But they can’t identify with loss like I can. They don’t know what it’s like to have your entire family ripped away in an instant. I hope they never know such devastation which is why I refuse to burden them with my problems. I just need to find a way to hold myself together on the surface until this feeling fades. It has to go away sometime, right?

THE SUN HAS BARELY RISEN as we make our way north on Highway 101. Gavin woke me up ridiculously early telling me I had twenty minutes to shower and dress before he was throwing me in the car. We’ve been on the road for almost an hour and he still hasn’t told me where we’re going.

“C’mon, Gavin. At least give me a hint.”

He gives me a boyish smile. “Like I told you the first three times, no.”

I huff. “Can you at least tell me how much longer we’ll have to drive?”

“Thirty minutes or so. That’s all you’re getting.”

It’s been six weeks since my mom passed. I think I’m doing a pretty good job pretending I have this coping thing down. At school I’ve managed to avoid any additional outbursts. And while my return to the club was difficult, that too, was uneventful since Marcus has yet to show up. To be honest, most days are a blur and those days bleed into weeks. The only moments I can clearly recall are when something reminds me of my mom and I cry in the shower until the water runs cold. And when I come out, Gavin is always right there, taking me into his arms. He’s the one person I can’t fool. No matter what, he knows when I’m having a bad day, and he’s determined to make it better. Sometimes we make love, other times we simply hold each other. The one constant is how therapeutic those moments are. How I always feel a little less fragmented when I wake up the next morning.

I start contemplating our possible destinations when Gavin veers off the main highway and heads east. Where in the hell is he taking me? The only clue I have is the big pile of stuff hiding under a tarp in the back of his SUV. I anxiously tap my fingers as we travel down the two-lane road. I’m trying really hard not to be a bad sport but I hate surprises. In my experience, they’re rarely a good thing. I have to keep reminding myself that Gavin is one of the few trustworthy people in my life.

As promised, approximately a half hour later, he’s turning down a dirt road. I read the sign as we approach the gates to the Siuslaw National Forest campground. Gavin rolls down his window as we pull up to a small ranger’s station.

“Good morning,” the woman in green says. “Will you be needing a day pass?”

“We have reservations under Cooper,” he replies.

She punches a few keys on her computer and stares at the screen for a moment. Then she grabs a small envelope and rectangular piece of paper that she passes through the window. “Make sure you leave this card on your dash. Right around the corner, you’ll find the visitor’s station with a map of the grounds. We’re open from seven to seven each day. It’s not much but you can get bundles of wood, water, and a few other necessities. You’re in yurt A-12; the door key is in the envelope. There’s supposed to be a storm tonight so make sure anything left outside is anchored down really well.”

“Will do,” Gavin nods.

I wait until he rolls the window up before speaking. “We’re going camping? Seriously?”

“Yep. What’s wrong with camping?”

“Besides the fact that it’s the middle of February? You heard the lady—a storm is coming.”

“Relax, Kat,” he chuckles. “The yurt has electricity and heat. We’ll be fine.”

“What if the storm knocks the power out?” Not uncommon in these parts when it gets really windy.

He smiles. “I’m sure we can think of some way to generate body heat if we need to.”

I roll my eyes. “What about Frodo? We can’t just leave him alone.”

“Frodo’s fine,” he assures me. “I put out extra food and water. He’ll be okay for one night.”

“But…why?”

Gavin parks the car in front of the visitor’s center and grabs my hand. “Because I want to spend time with you outside of the house. I want to stop hiding our relationship from the world, even if it’s only for the weekend. Let’s be honest, Kat; you’ve just been going through the motions day in and day out. It kills me seeing you like this. I thought it might help to get away…to regroup. If you really don’t want to stay, we can leave.” He tightens his grip around my fingers. “I’d really like you to say you’ll stay, though.”

Tears fill my eyes from his thoughtfulness. “I’ll stay.”

He grabs my face and pulls me in for a quick kiss. “You won’t regret it; I promise.” He opens the car door. “Stay here. I’m just going to run inside to grab some firewood then we’ll find our campsite.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, we’re driving around a narrow loop looking for our space. I have to admit the park grounds are beautiful. The area is backed against a large creek and dominated by giant Sitka spruces and Doug firs. I love the smell of the forest, especially when a storm is brewing. There’s this static charge in the air that electrifies your senses. It seems as if it crawls under your skin and breathes life into your blood.