Jen Frederick - Unraveled

“So move away. Start over,” Mom urged. “You’ve got to stop living your life based on what other people think you should do. I get that you have regrets and that you wish you moved to Alaska so that you could have spent those months with Will together instead of apart. But that doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your life trying to be the best widow possible because you weren’t the best girlfriend or because you weren’t the best wife or because you resented the hell out of the fact that Will decided to join the Army. You were both teenagers at the time. Just because you didn’t move when he went combat infantry and jumped out of planes all over the world doesn’t mean that you lack a spirit of adventure. Get out there and start living.”

I stared at her, my mouth hanging open a bit. “How long have you been waiting to bust out that lecture?”

“Probably a good year.” She sighed and pulled me against her.

“So long? Your restraint is remarkable.”

“You weren’t ready.”

“And now I am?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know?”

“Because about two seconds ago you were shivering remembering the touch of a man’s hand. I think that means you’re ready to move on.”

The old “eyes in the back of the head” trick. I wondered if that rear vision was something that you developed when you started gestating. “I’m not very good at taking risks,” I said.

Mom shouted with laughter. “Honey, the biggest risk is loving someone. You of all people know that.”

After that bomb, Mom kissed me and then left for her office.

My childhood home felt empty with Bitsy off with friends and Mom at the office. I left my dad a Skype video message and then headed down to my condo. For the rest of the morning, I sat on my tiny metal balcony with my knitting. Mom’s admin assistant was having a baby and I was working on the newborn set for her. Will and I had been assiduous about the use of protection but there were several times after he died that I’d wished we weren’t so careful and that I was sitting here knitting booties for our child.

But thoughts beginning with I wish and what if were a bad trip down the rabbit hole. That was the one negative about knitting. The mind tended to wander, and if I wasn’t careful, I would start getting maudlin. Instead, I purposely focused on the streets, the river beyond, and the pure pleasure of having the warm sun on my face. The rays of sunlight reminded me of the smattering of gold flecks that had twinkled at me out of Gray’s eyes.

I allowed myself the guilty pleasure of visualizing all of Gray—his wide shoulders, his firm touch, his soft lips. Rubbing my elbow, I imagined that I could still feel the imprint of his fingers on my skin. It’d been so long since I’d enjoyed the touch of a male other than a swift hug from a family member. Gray had smelled good too—some blend of earthy masculine fragrance overlaid by faint notes of spice and the ocean. I rubbed the tip of my tongue across my lips, remembering how his mouth felt hard and soft at the same time. How his tongue felt huge inside my mouth and how much I ached between my legs.

Was I really a risk taker? Dress comfortably—shorts, T-shirt, boots. Was I really seriously contemplating going hiking with a guy who accused me of cheating and then left me hanging on the cusp of an orgasm because there were too many of Will’s things in my condo? As I pulled on the shorts and a pair of thick socks, I realized that I was. What better things did I have to do? Sit here and knit? Why not take my knitting needles on a little adventure?

I dug out a worn T-shirt that said, "I knit so I don't kill people." Gray might appreciate the humor of it. Wait, did I really care what Gray thought of my T-shirt slogans? I threw it back into the drawer and found a workout T-shirt that had no slogans and was a neon green. Looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror on the closet door, I saw that the neon green made my entire face look sickly. My eyes shot toward the knitting shirt and vanity won out. If sturdy boots and shorts were some kind of code for outdoors sex, then I didn't want to make Gray sick at the sight of me. Not that I was going to have sex with him. He’d turned me down twice.

I slid the knitting T-shirt over my head. I didn’t own boots and wondered if tennis shoes would be okay. When I pulled out my phone, I was struck with the realization that I didn't have Gray's number. Even if I’d wanted to cancel, I'd have to do it in person. Was that an accident because he just hadn't thought to ask, or was it intentional?

I tried not to think too hard about what I was doing and instead just drove over to Adam’s house. Gray was on the lawn, throwing a football with one of the guys from the house. I didn't know them all, only Adam and Finn. Drums and the sound of a guitar poured from the detached garage where Adam and his band must be practicing. There was a hive of activity here. I didn't know exactly how many people lived here, but the number of people milling about had to be close to twenty.

I slowed down so I didn't run over an errant footballer.

Gray came up to my window and I rolled it down. “Is the offer still good?”

He leaned against the windowsill and his forearm was inches away from me. The healthy sweat from his impromptu game smelled good and I felt a little nostalgic for the times that I'd hugged Will after his track practice when you could smell fresh cut grass mixed in with clean male testosterone. A sudden urge to run my tongue up the side of his veined neck rocked me.

When I looked straight into his gold-flecked eyes, there was a corresponding hunger. But what about last night? I wanted to cry. We could have explored all of this last night, but instead I was going somewhere on an “adventure.” Well, this adventure better be damned good. Almost against my will, I swayed toward him, but my seatbelt saved me from utter humiliation. It caught me mid-swoon and held me back. Looking down at my hands, I thought about putting the vehicle in reverse and driving away.

"I'll get the gear," Gray said, voice low. I fought back a visible shiver. What was wrong with me? Or maybe the better question was what was with him? "Don't leave," he ordered as if somehow my trepidation was obvious. "Don't leave," he repeated.

I sat there in my idling truck and watched the guys and girls on the front lawn, some staring at me and others admiring Gray’s form as he loped toward the garage. It was hard not to admire his powerful build. Had I once thought that he wasn’t my type? That had been some kind of crazy talk.

GRAY DIRECTED ME TOWARD THE Red Rock cliffs, a small area of bluffs that dropped into the city's river. I'd never been here before. Out of the back he pulled out a bunch of ropes and nylon things and metal hooks.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"If you're thinking it's extreme macramé, then no it isn't." Gray didn't look at me but instead was intent on winding rope around his elbow and shoulder. He shrugged off one coil and handed it to me. The weight of it was heavier than I’d anticipated. "Think you can handle that?" Gray gave a chin nod toward the rope. I hefted it.

"As long as we aren't doing a twelve-mile run."

"No worries."

"So rock climbing?" I guessed this was a real adventure and not sex. I gave a mental shrug. At least I could cross off one word as a sex euphemism. That was useful. It occurred to me that I was being friendzoned. Rocking climbing instead of sex? That’s what you did with friends, not people you wanted to see naked. Even I knew that. Oh well, I’d lost a lot of friends in the two years since Will’s death. I could use this time with Gray to learn how to be a better friend. Although it was weird that we were rock climbing, since Gray could have easily gone with his buddies.

“None of your friends rock climb?” I asked.

“Sure they do, although Noah goes a lot less now because his professional fighting contract prevents him from engaging in dangerous activities.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Because I wanted to spend time with you. Where's your knitting?"

He wanted to spend time with me? That seemed like something you’d say to someone you wanted to have “coffee” with. I was so confused. I handed him a small bag and he stuck it into a larger pack which he slung over his shoulder along with another coil of rope, another small bag, and set of harnesses. We took off, not at a quick pace, but a steady one.

"What kind of adventure are you taking me on?" I called to Gray's back. Any faster and I'd be too winded to talk.

"A baby one, don't worry." He turned and winked at me over his shoulder. "I'll take good care of you."

His promise sounded a bit provocative. Maybe it was sex. God, I had to stop thinking about sex. As I followed him up the hiking trail, I stared at his physique. His legs looked powerful but not overly thick. He had muscles in his back that moved as he climbed up the hill. Gray looked like he could take care of a woman. He was a guy with strength and endurance, who clearly enjoyed physical things. The pang at the missed opportunity last night hit me harder. Him lifting me up and easily holding me as he kissed me or as he rubbed his thigh between my legs had felt incredible. I’d guess his penis was thick and heavy to match the rest of his build. His rock-hard pecs would be the perfect place for me to place my hands if I rode him. My imaginings made me breathless.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need to take a break?" Gray stopped and turned to look at me.

Yes, I need to take a break and bash my head against the rocks until the image of the two of us naked is flushed from my mind. Out loud, I said, "Nope," and gave him the fakest smile in two counties.

He looked at me suspiciously but as he couldn't read my mind, thank God, he just turned around. Every time I started thinking of Gray in a sexual way, I stabbed myself with an imaginary knitting needle. Good thing it was imaginary because I would've bled out about a third of the way up.

Gray

THE HAIRS ON THE BACK of my neck were at attention again. Sam was staring holes through me but whenever I turned around she gave me this wide-eyed innocent look. She was hiding something but I didn't know if she was mad that I was taking her on a hike or upset that I'd left her swinging in the wind last night. I considered telling her that I’d been miserable after I’d left her. The erection that had been killed at the sight of her dead husband’s things popped right back after she dropped me off. I tried jacking off in the bathroom but when I did come it was unsatisfactory. My stupid dick wanted to be inside Sam instead of my hand.

The entire night I alternated between fantasizing about what it felt like being inside her and reliving the moment in the hallway when she came from just the pressure of my wood against her. The longer the night wore on, the more I wanted to punch myself in the face for stopping. Who cared about boots and empty backpacks? Her husband was gone. Neither of us was cheating on anyone. I’d been so close to sinking into her sweetness and I’d cockblocked myself. I wanted to hit myself even harder when I woke up this morning with the realization I hadn’t gotten her phone number. Then she’d shown up, and I didn’t waste time regretting yesterday or asking her whether she changed her mind because I could read the uncertainty in every line of her body from the tense set of her shoulders to the way her hand hovered over the gear shift. She looked ready to throw the Rover in reverse at any moment.

“Don’t leave,” I’d told her in my best command voice and she hadn’t. Now we were hiking on an unfamiliar bluff, and I was going to use Noah’s equipment to teach Sam how to rappel down the side of a cliff. In the Corps, this might be called a trust exercise. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to prove with her.

Despite her labored breathing, she kept walking. I suggested stopping but I could tell that if I asked whether she was okay one more time she might push me over the cliff. That wasn’t really the response I was angling for but she’d not entirely forgotten last night because we were walking single file. The path was definitely wide enough for two people but every time I slowed up, she slowed up. So what if she didn’t want to walk beside me? She was here which meant she wanted to spend time with me and I’d take whatever crumbs she was willing to throw my way at this point.