Occasionally, he still cooked elaborate meals for himself in the small kitchen in the pans she had left behind, the space much larger without the threat of wrapping and lifting her onto the counter-top where her hands would grasp his hair and hold his head at the perfect angle to bite his lower lip. It was what the English would call “A nice, tidy life,” but one he couldn’t see a downside of an end.

The bear stopped to try to make sense of what was happening and how to proceed but it took only a brief moment for instinct to take over. Its hair began to rise again and it picked up its pace as it smelled the first scent of blood. The bear ran now, caution replaced by excitement and it burst through the bushes surrounding the campsite. One of the males stood, wide eyed, looking around into the dark of the woods, his eyes not adjusting as quickly as the bear’s.

When the water began to bubble, she tore the lid off the container and poured the water in carefully. She took her first tentative spoonful  right before she felt her skin tingle at the sound of feet on the trail. She looked up and the two young men from the cafe walked into the small clearing. They stopped and watched noiselessly, their eyes bright with excitement and their bodies tensed.

His eyes were a brighter blue than she had seen before and she thought of all the “hot” mugshots of strangers she and her friends had giggled over in college. “Hey, he can’t cheat on me if he’s in jail,” one of her friends always argued over the laughing objections of the others. “If you quit picking cheaters, they wouldn’t cheat on you,” they would all yell in unison. The memory was funny one, but all she could do was stare into his eyes now, gleaming in the cafe light, but with something dark behind them and, while the other continued to smile and laugh, there was nothing on his face but emotionless stillness.

“She’s pretty, but I can’t do it. Just write anything for her. She’ll appreciate the effort. Just don’t use the words naked or nookie and you’ll be fine.” He put the phone on the table and picked up his beer. “Plus, the first picture you showed me is the one she’s the most beautiful in. Tell her that's the one that caught your attention. People always get told they have apretty smile."

“That’s not fair,” he said. His voice had changed and softened in a familiar manner she’d sworn she wouldn’t fall for again. “I can’t win an argument with you. You’re better at it than I am and are always going to win.” She’d heard this one before and something clicked in her head.

“You say that all the time, but neither one of us is winning. It’s not a fucking contest to win, but you think it is. In fact, if it was, you’d win every fucking time because you’re willing to say “this is it” and walk away.

In the coffee shop, the young couple sat across the table from each other. The exposed brick gave it the requisite old-factory vibe and the out of season holiday decorations added the quirk that made people bring their friends from out of town to prove that yes, there were cool things here too. Their hands had been touching, but she had pulled hers away when she saw the hurt look on his face after her comment. She was waving both of hers around now, trying to formulate the words to explain how it didn’t apply to him, but he had already started responding.

“You know how I feel. I don’t care if I see you or hear you, but you make my house stink and I cannot stand that. Get your shit together.” She turned dismissively and walked out of the room. The younger woman looked at the girls who were staring at her, their cups untouched on the table.

“Don’t worry ladies, your mom loves me” she said.

“Does she,” the older asked.

Elizabeth wanted to yell at him that morning. “You are too old,” formed in her mind, but never made it to her lips. She knew he would not listen.

After the President spoke at noon, Thomas drove to the capital and parked three blocks from the recruitment office. It was cold, even for December.

A smile, long misplaced gleamed back at her, almost unfamiliar, like a a stranger who resembled someone she once knew. She looked back down quickly, moving past the couple and picking up the pace to the correct one.

She reached over and took the cup back. “Ellis, if a girl lets her knee touch yours and she leaves it there for more than thirty seconds, she wants you to kiss her.”