Forty

A week after our wedding, James and I are trekking through the underbrush of the Australian Outback. While Annie and Georgie seem to be having the time of their lives, James and I are sweating to death.

“Is it usually this hot?” I ask, gasping for breath in the dry heat.

Annie looks back at us, “Ali it’s August. We’re lucky it was a mild winter this year.” She looks to the sky and muses, “it could still snow though.”

“Snow?” I deadpan. “You’ve got me out here in shorts and you’re saying that it could snow?”

She laughs, “just be glad it’s not spider season.”

I stop on the trail, making James bump into me, “spider season? That’s it’s, I’m going home!”

Not that I really knew where home was at this point. Sure I could go back to my dad’s house, he’d love to have me home. And while I did miss my childhood house and my dad, the thought of going back to a mundane life made a pit form in my stomach.

“You ok?” James asks quietly. “Aside from the snow and spider prospect.”