THEY ONLY EAT THEIR HUSBANDS
A Memoir of Alaskan Love, World Travel,
and the Power of Running Away
EXCERPT
After the stifling cabin fever of my fifth Alaskan winter, the spring sun came hollering at my window, begging me to come out and play. For the first time, Sean's girlfriend was off-again at the same time I was sans placeholder. Emboldened by spring fever, I asked him to join me for a bike ride.
We rode Anchorage's Chester Creek Trail out to Cook Inlet. The inlet and the still-snowy mountains looked gorgeous in the newborn sunshine, but I was distracted by Sean's muscular thighs, outlined in skin-tight bicycle shorts. I didn't have much chance to stare, however, as he spent most of the time riding behind me. That was a matter of politeness on his part; he was the stronger cyclist and wanted to keep me in sight.
Sean was amused that I could keep up a steady stream of chatter while pedaling at, what was for me, a furious pace. "How can you breath?" he asked.
"I'm fine!" I turned to shout over my shoulder, almost zigging off the path.
"Shouldn't you keep your eyes on the trail?"
"I'm fine!" I turned to shout again, zagging the other way.
While we talked about everything from the weather to the meaning of death, one thing became clear: while his ex was off-again, Sean was still on. Every subject reminded him of something funny Ann said this one time, or something interesting he and Ann did together this other time, or something or other about Ann at one time or another. Although we went out together a few more times, removing his ex from our conversation was like trying to pull flies off a no-pest strip.
It didn't bother me all that much. I'd had three relationships in three years and I'd begun to wonder if I was destined to forever be the ultimate antidote to love. I decided that, until I felt more optimistic, I'd keep my relationships with men platonic. I told Sean all I wanted was friendship. Still, part of me hoped he might inspire me to give up this latest attempt at celibacy—my third, or was it my fourth?
Soon after that, my celibacy experiment failed. But not with Sean. I met someone else, or rather, two someone elses. Sean didn't seem to mind when my new love life became part of our conversations. He didn't have a hidden agenda; friendship I asked for, friendship I got. It was kind of refreshing, getting what I asked for. I told myself that it was better this way, that if Sean and I had consummated my fantasy it would have killed our friendship.
© Cara Lopez Lee
Buy the book
IndieBound
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Tattered Cover
Boulder Book Store
Order a signed copy via PayPal (limited to 3):
