Iris’s words from that night at Stella’s rang through her skull, but she ignored them. She could be wired any way she pleased, and right now, what pleased her was Delilah in her bed. She straightened her clothes and rolled her shoulders back, determined to play it cool with Delilah from now on.
Sex, she told herself. Just think about sex.
“What are you doing?” Iris asked, frowning at her as she stepped out from behind Josh and Ruby’s tent.
“Oh. Um, just looking for a water bottle I can use,” she said, making a show of glancing around. “Josh usually brings a million.”
“Yes, except your water bottle is with your backpack,” Iris said, pointing to Claire’s pack leaning against their tent, a purple Nalgene hooked onto one of the straps.
“Right,” Claire said and left it at that. She grabbed the bottle and took a long pull of the now lukewarm water.
“All right, let’s hit it,” Spencer called, clapping his hands like they were cattle. Then he smacked Astrid on the butt when she started toward the trailhead. He grinned at her, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Claire watched, teeth gritted, as Astrid kissed him back. But her best friend wasn’t smiling. And her arms seemed stiff around Spencer’s shoulders while his hands roamed down her backside. She wasn’t enjoying this, not in the least, but then again Astrid had never been one for PDA. Where most mothers teach basic manners, Isabel had hammered propriety into her daughter like a nail through wood.
“Is it too much to ask for a large rock to just, I don’t know, fall on his head?” Iris asked as she tied up her hiking boots.
“If only we were the praying kind,” Claire said.
“I’d be willing to convert if it got that shit hat out of our lives.”
“Now he’s a shit hat?”
“He’s a shit-all-types-of-clothing. Shirt. Belt. Jacket.”
“Shit shirt has a nice ring to it.”
“It really does.”
Claire laughed, but her eyes trailed over to Delilah without her permission. The other woman was sitting on the picnic table, scrolling through her phone. Claire forced her gaze away.
“Ready?” Astrid called, pulling back from Spencer.
“Yep,” Iris said, linking her arm with Claire’s and squeezing her tightly. Together they walked over to the trailhead, but when they arrived, Delilah still hadn’t moved from the picnic table.
“Are you coming, Del?” Astrid asked.
Delilah glanced up, a bored expression in her eyes. “Nah. Looks like it might rain.”
“It’s the Pacific Northwest,” Spencer said. “It always looks like it might rain.”
“Oh my god, you’re so right.” Delilah looked around at the trees, wide-eyed, her voice saccharine. “I almost forgot what part of the country I was in. Thank you so much.”
Iris snort-laughed, but then Spencer muttered something that sounded suspiciously like bitch under his breath, and Iris’s smile turned into a murderous glare. Claire heard Astrid take a deep breath, then turn away and gulp from her water bottle.
“I’m good here,” Delilah said, going back to her phone.
“Are you sure?” Claire asked. She took a step back toward the campsite, willing Delilah to look up at her.
She didn’t. Instead, she just nodded, and Claire felt her stomach plunge to her feet. Iris pulled Claire’s arm toward the trail, and she went, but she couldn’t get rid of the panic bubbling into her chest. First Josh, now Delilah. She felt marooned, out of control, and very much like she was about to burst into some extremely embarrassing tears.
Five minutes into the hike, she pulled her arm free from Iris’s. “You know what? I’m going to go check on Ruby at the springs.”
“What?” Iris asked, her face going pale.
“Yeah, I just . . . I’m nervous, you know? About her and Josh and I just . . .” She didn’t know how to say it, that she simply needed to go, that she needed to cry, to wrap her arms around her daughter, the one thing in her life that she was sure of.
“Sweetie, is everything okay?” Astrid asked, stepping closer to her. “Do you want us to come with you?”
Claire shook her head. “You go hike. Have fun.”
“You heard her,” Spencer said, taking Astrid’s arm. He started walking her up the trail, leather sneakers and all. “She’s fine. Let’s go.”
“Claire,” Iris said, widening her eyes with meaning. “Are you serious right now?”
“I’ll see you back at the campsite, okay?” she said before Iris could say anything else. Guilt swirled in her gut, but still, she turned away from her friend and ran back along the trail.
* * *
SHE BURST THROUGH the trees and into the campsite’s clearing, breathing heavy, eyes searching. Delilah was still perched on top of the picnic table, phone in her hand. Her head snapped up when she saw Claire, brow furrowing in what Claire could only hope was concern and not annoyance.
“I thought you were going to hike?” Delilah asked.
Claire tried to calm herself down as surreptitiously as possible as all the wrong answers flitted through her head.
I wanted to see you.
I was worried about you.
I was worried about us.
But she knew she couldn’t say any of those things. Those weren’t casual answers to Delilah’s question.
“I decided not to,” Claire said. “I’m going to go to the springs and check on Ruby.”
There. A perfectly breezy response. Her voice didn’t even shake.
Delilah nodded, and Claire moved off toward their tent to change into her bathing suit. She ducked under the door flap, zipped it closed, then pressed her fingers to her eyes under her glasses. The tears welled, and she tried to push them back. This was ridiculous. She fought with Josh all the time. And Delilah had every right to stay back from a hike, to stay back from her.
But Claire had never been great with conflict. When she was young, her parents fought nonstop, her mother completely miserable for most of their life in San Francisco. After her father took off and she and her mom moved to Bright Falls, Claire spent years making sure her mother was okay, making their life as smooth as possible, always following the rules as much as she could.
Then she got pregnant.
Even then, her mother supported her—they’d been all each other had for so long—and everything ended up okay. Wonderful even. But then she and Josh started arguing, two stupid kids with huge adult problems, and she always ended up crying when they fought, always ended up feeling pathetic. And now Iris was most certainly pissed off at her for abandoning her with Shit Trousers, so essentially, Claire had just made everything worse. Still, she couldn’t have gone on that hike without doing what she was doing right now—letting a few tears fall to get some release and heaving some shuddering breaths. She just needed a few minutes, then she’d be fine. She’d be ready to find her daughter, ignore whatever Delilah was doing, and figure out a way to make it up to Iris. She’d be—