The Edge of Always

  “Let’s go, baby girl,” I say looking down at her. “Uncle Aidan and Aunt Michelle are here to see the birthday girl.”

  I swear she knows what I’m saying.

  She squeezes my finger as tight as she can, giggles, and takes one big step forward, as if I’m not fast enough to keep up. With my back arched over, I take fast half steps as we shuffle down the hallway, letting her run on her chunky little baby legs out ahead of me. When she starts to fall as she rounds the corner, I grip her hand, lift her slightly off her feet, and let her get her balance again. She started walking at ten months old. Her first word was “Mama” at six months. At seven months she said “Dada,” and I melted when I heard her call me that the first time.

  And Camryn was right—she’s got my green eyes.

  “Lily!” Michelle says all dramatic-like, squatting down to Lily’s level and wrapping her up in her wide arms. “Oh my goodness, you’re so big!” She kisses her cheeks and her forehead and her nose, and Lily cackles uncontrollably. “Nom nom nom!” Michelle adds, pretending to eat her cheeks.

  I look over at Aidan, who has my nephew, Avery, attached to his hip. I reach out for him, but he’s shy and recoils toward Aidan’s chest. I back off, hoping he doesn’t start crying. Aidan tries to coax him.

  “Is he walking yet?” Camryn asks, standing next to me.

  Michelle follows Lily into the living room where a plethora of pink and purple helium balloons are pressed against the ceiling. When Lily realizes she can’t reach the balloons, she gives up and goes straight over to her stack of presents on the floor.

  Aidan hands two wrapped gifts to Camryn, and we all join Michelle and Lily in the living room. Camryn sets the gifts next to the others.

  “He’s been trying,” Aidan answers about Avery’s walking progress. “He holds on to the couch and walks alongside it, but he hasn’t quite got the urge to let go yet.”

  “God, he looks just like you, bro,” I say. “Poor kid.”

  Aidan would punch me in the gut if his arms were free.

  “He’s adorable,” Camryn says as she reaches out to take him.

  Of course he is, but I have to mess with my brother.

  Avery looks at her like she’s crazy at first, but then gets me back for talking crap about his daddy by going straight to Camryn with no problem.

  Aidan laughs.

  Nancy and Roger, Natalie and Blake, Sarah and her boyfriend, who already has a kid from an ex-girlfriend, all show up practically at the same time. Afterward, our next door neighbors, Mason and Lori, a young married couple with a two-year-old, show up with gifts. Lily, being the little show-off she is, bends over with her hands and head on the carpet, sticking her diaper-covered butt in the air. Then she pretends to fall down and says “Uh-oh,” to everyone’s laughter.

  “Look at that curly blonde hair,” Michelle says. “Was Camryn’s hair that white when she was a baby?” she asks Camryn’s mom, who is sitting next to her.

  Nancy nods. “Yeah, it definitely was.”

  Later, after everyone has arrived, Lily gets to open her presents and, just like her mama, she sings and dances and puts on a show for everybody. And then when she gets to blow out her candle (really, I kind of blew it out for her) she practically bathes herself in cake and purple icing. It’s in her hair and hanging off her eyelashes and shoved up both nostrils. Camryn tries, futilely, to keep her from making too big of a mess, but she gives up and lets Lily have her fun.

  Lily’s passed out cold from all of the excitement long before the last of her guests leave.

  “I think the bath did it,” Camryn whispers to me as we stand over her bed.

  I take Camryn by the hand and pull her along with me, shutting Lily’s door but leaving it open just a crack.

  We lie on the couch together watching a movie for the next two hours, then Camryn kisses my lips and leaves to take a shower.

  I turn off the TV and lift up from the couch and look around the room. I hear the water running in the shower and the cars driving by on the street outside. I think about the conversation I had with my boss yesterday, about how since I’ve been at my job for nearly two years now, that I have two weeks of vacation time coming up. But I know that two weeks just aren’t enough when it comes to Camryn and me doing the things we want to do. The whole job situation is the only thing that we never quite worked out when it comes to what we’ll do when we want to leave Raleigh for a month or more. Neither one of us wants to lose our jobs, but we ultimately came to one conclusion at least: it’s a sacrifice that we’re willing to make and will have to make if we’re going to fulfill our dreams to travel the world and to avoid being victims of that everyday, monotonous life that scares us shitless.

  We know we won’t be at these jobs forever. And, well, that’s kind of the point.

  But I told my boss that, yes, I would need to take those vacation days in the next couple of months. I decided not to give him any kind of notice about leaving, until after I talk to Camryn tonight first.

  I get up from the couch and grab a notepad from the drawer at the computer desk and sit down at the kitchen table with it. And I start to write down the various places that Camryn and I have already talked about wanting to see: France, Ireland, Scotland, Brazil, Jamaica… I write until I have a pile of strips of paper in the center of the table. While I’m folding them one by one and dropping them into Camryn’s cowgirl hat, I hear the water shut off in the bathroom.

  She comes into the kitchen with wet hair plastered against her back.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, but realizes it before I have the chance to answer. She sits down next to me. And she smiles. That’s a great sign.

  “Maybe we should leave in May or June,” I suggest.

  She drags a comb through her wet hair a few times and seems to be thinking about it. Then she places the comb on the table. “You think Lily is ready for that?” she asks.

  I nod. “Yeah, I think she is. She’s walking. We said we’d wait at least until she started walking.”

  Camryn nods, too, still thinking about it, but she never looks unsure. “Have to get her started early,” she says.

  We definitely aren’t like other families. A lot of parents would completely reject the idea of traveling out of the country with a small child just to be traveling. But not us. I admit that it’s not for everybody, but for us it’s the only way. Of course, our “travels beyond” won’t be like the times Camryn and I spent on the road in the United States. Driving around aimlessly for hours and days and weeks on end with a baby in the car isn’t entirely feasible—Lily would hate that. No, these travels will be more staying put in cities we want to explore than going from one city to another without much rest in between. And unfortunately, we won’t be taking the Chevelle.

  Camryn pulls the cowgirl hat over to her and shuffles her hand around inside. “Did you add all the ones we put on the list?” she asks.

  “Of course,” I say.

  She playfully narrows her eyes at me. “You’re lying.”

  “What? No, really I did.”

  She nudges me in the shin with her bare foot underneath the table. “You’re full of shit, Andrew.”

  Then she starts pulling out the strips of paper and unfolds them and reads them off.

  “Jamaica.” She sets it down. “France.” She sets it on top of the other one. “Ireland. Brazil. Bahamas. Virgin Islands. Mexico.” One by one she stacks them on top of each other.

  After several more she pulls out the last one, holds it up folded loosely in her fingertips, and she snarls at me. “Something tells me that this doesn’t say ‘Italy.’ ” She’s trying so hard not to smile.

  I really don’t know why I thought I could actually pull this off.

  While I’m trying not to laugh and keep a straight face, she unfolds the paper and reads its contents: “Australia.” She drops the paper on the top of the pile. “I should penalize you for trying to cheat,” she says, rounding her chin and crossing her arms stubbornl
y over her chest.

  “Oh come on,” I say, unable to keep a straight face after all. “At least I didn’t add a few more that say ‘Brazil.’ ” I laugh.

  “You thought about it, though, didn’t you?!”

  I wince at her loud voice, and we both glance toward the hall where Lily is sleeping in her bedroom.

  Camryn leans over the table some and hisses through her teeth, “I’m penalizing you. No sex for a week.” She leans away again, pressing her back against the chair and smirks at me.

  OK, this isn’t funny anymore.

  I swallow down my pride, hesitate, and then say, “Come on, you can’t be serious. You like it as much as I do.”

  “Of course I do,” she says. “But haven’t you ever heard anywhere that women have this magical ability to be able to live without it longer? I’ll get myself off.”

  “You’re bluffing,” I say, not convinced.

  She nods subtly with that hell-no-I’m-not gleam in her eye, and it’s making me nervous. “What are you going to do to make up for it, then?”

  One side of my mouth lifts into a grin. “Whatever you want.” I pause, holding up my finger and add before it’s too late, “Well, as long as it’s not degrading, disgusting, or unfair.”

  Her grin getting bigger, Camryn stands from the chair slowly. I watch every move she makes with the utmost attention, a part of me worried I’m going to miss something. She fits her thumbs behind the elastic of her panties and taunts me with the idea of sliding them off.

  Oh my fucking God… seriously? You call this a punishment?

  I try to retain my composure, pretending as though the few gestures she’s made haven’t affected me in any way whatsoever when, in truth, it takes practically nothing to make me crazy for her.

  She walks away from me.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “To get myself off.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me.”

  OK, so I did, but… that’s not how this was supposed to go down.

  “But… what’s my punishment?”

  She stops just long enough to turn and look back. “You’re going to watch.”

  “Wait…what?”

  I start to follow. Evil witch.

  She goes into the living room and lies down on the couch, her head resting upon the arm, one leg propped over the back.

  Evil, evil witch!

  She looks up at me seductively and that’s all it takes; the second her eyes meet mine I move over and on top of her, crushing my mouth over hers. “No fucking way, babe,” I whisper hotly onto her mouth, and I kiss her even harder.

  Her hands grasp the front of my shirt, her tongue tangled passionately with mine.

  And then Lily starts to cry.

  I stop. Camryn stops. We look at each other for a moment, both of us frustrated, but we can’t help but smile. Lily is a deep sleeper and hardly ever wakes up at night anymore, but somehow her timing tonight doesn’t surprise me.

  “I’ll do it this time,” she says, lifting herself from the couch.

  I stand up, running my hand over the top of my head.

  After she disappears down the hallway, I head back into the kitchen and sit back down at the table to scrawl “Italy” on another strip of paper. I drop it into the hat and refold all of the others and drop them in it, too.

  Minutes later, the house is quiet after Camryn gets Lily back to sleep. She sits down in the chair next to me again, pulling her bare legs onto the seat and crossing them. Propping one elbow upon the table, she rests her chin in her hand and looks at me with a warm smile, like something’s on her mind.

  “Andrew,” she says. “Do you really think we can do this?”

  “Do what, exactly?”

  She rests both arms across the table out in front of her, tangling her fingers.

  “Travel with Lily.”

  I pause and then lean my back against the chair. “Yeah, I do think we can pull it off. Don’t you?”

  Her smile weakens.

  “Camryn, do you not want to travel anymore?”

  She shakes her head. “No, that’s not it at all. I’m just really scared. I’ve never known anyone personally who has tried anything like that. It’s just scary. What if we’re just being delusional? Maybe normal people don’t do this sort of thing for a reason.”

  At first, I was worried. I had this gut feeling that maybe she had changed her mind, and while I’d be OK with whatever she wanted to do, a part of me would’ve been disappointed for a while.

  I lean back up and rest both arms across the table in front of me just like Camryn. My eyes soften as I look at her. “I know we can do this. As long as it’s what we both want equally, that neither one of us are only doing it because we think it’s what the other wants, then yes, Camryn, I know we can pull it off. We have the savings. It’ll be a few years before Lily starts school. There’s nothing stopping us.”

  “Is it what you really want?” she asks. “You promise there’s not some part of you that’s only going through with it because of me?”

  I shake my head. “No. Even though if I didn’t want it as much as you, I would do it anyway because it’s what you want—but no, I truly want it.”

  That weak smile of hers strengthens again.

  “And you’re right,” I go on, “it’s scary, I admit. It wouldn’t be so much if it were just you and me, but—think about this for a second. If we didn’t do this, what else would we do?”

  Camryn looks away in thought. She shrugs and says, “Work and raise a family here, I guess.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “That fear is the fine line between us and them.” I gesture outward to indicate “them,” the kind of people in the world we want to avoid becoming. Camryn understands; I can see it in her face. And I’m not saying that people who choose to stay in one place all their life and raise a family are wrong. It’s the people who don’t want to live like that, who dream about being something more, doing something more, but never pull it off because they let fear stop them before they get started.

  “But what will we do?” she asks.

  “Whatever we want,” I say. “You know that.”

  “Yeah, but I mean later on. Five, ten years from now, what will we be doing with our lives, with Lily’s life? As much as I love the thought of doing it forever, I really can’t imagine it being realistic. We’ll run out of money eventually. Lily will have to start school. Then, we’ll end up right back here and become one of them anyway.”

  I shake my head and smile. “Make that fear and excuses that make up that fine line. Babe, we’ll be OK. Lily will be OK. We will do whatever we want, go wherever we want to go and we’ll enjoy our lives, not settle for a life that neither of us really want. Whatever happens, whether we start to run out of money, can’t find work to replace it, Lily needs school and we have to make the decision to stay put in one place for a long time, even if that place is back here in this house, then we’ll do what we have to do. But right now—” I point sternly at the table “—right now those aren’t things we have to worry about.”

  She smiles. “OK. I just wanted to make sure.”

  I nod and reach across the table, nudging the hat over toward her with my finger.

  “You get first pick,” I say.

  She starts to reach inside, but stops and narrows her gaze on me. “Did you put Italy in there?”

  “Yes, I did. I promise.”

  Knowing I’m telling the truth this time, Camryn reaches the rest of the way into the hat and shuffles the pieces of paper around with her fingers. She pulls one out and holds it in her crushed fist.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” I ask.

  She places her hand into mine and says, “I want you to read it.”

  I nod and take the paper from her and carefully unfold it. I read it to myself first, letting my imagination run wild with visions of the three of us here. I was so fixated on winning that bet with Brazil that I never thought much about any of the
other countries, but now that I’ve lost, it’s easy to imagine.

  “Well?” She’s getting impatient.

  I smile and toss the strip of paper onto the table, faceup. “Jamaica,” I announce. “Looks like we both lost the bet.”

  Camryn smiles widely. That tiny strip of paper lying on the table in front of us is something so much more than paper and ink. It has officially set in motion the rest of our lives together.

  Camryn

  40

  And what an amazing and wonderful life it turned out to be.

  I remember it like it was yesterday, the day we left in late spring and set off for Jamaica. Lily wore a yellow dress and two flower barrettes in her hair. She didn’t cry or fuss on the plane to Montego Bay. She was the perfect angel. And when we arrived at that first destination, the moment we stepped off the plane and into a new country, it all became real.

  That was when Andrew and I became… different.

  But I’ll get to that in a moment.

  This was a long time ago, and I want to start from the beginning.

  For two months leading up to the day we boarded that plane, I remained afraid of going through with it. As much as I wanted to do it, as often as I told myself that Andrew was right and that I shouldn’t worry, I always worried, of course. So much so that two days before we were to leave, I almost backed out.

  But I thought back to a time when Andrew and I first met, when he made me shove his clothes into that duffel bag, of all things:

  “So, where are we going to go first?” I said, folding a shirt he gave me to pack, on top of the pile.

  He was still rummaging through the closet.

  “No, no,” he said from inside, his voice muffled. “No outlines, Camryn. We’re just going to get into the car and drive. No maps or plans or—” He popped his head out of the closet and his voice was clearer. “What are you doing?”

  I looked up, the second shirt from the pile already in a half fold.

  “I’m folding them for you.”