Instead, I sighed, then took out my phone and texted her. Talk tomorrow, if you’re free for lunch? I wasn’t ready, not yet.
Her immediate response: Yes, please.
Another sigh escaped my lips. I tapped my phone against my hand, pacing back and forth, restless.
So I texted Lina. Sunday night primetime climb time?
Her immediate response: Let’s do it.
I put on my shoes and headed to the gym.
◆◆◆
“Hey Ian. I’m so sorry about your dad.” Lina appeared behind me and patted my arm, then tossed her shoes onto the ground. Her face was sympathetic, but not exaggeratedly so, not one of the over-the-top anguished looks that people had been giving me all week. And I was glad that she hadn’t asked me about any details of his passing or about how I was doing. Everyone wanted to know how I was holding up, wanted to offer their condolences or ask me about all of these intimate details that they had no right to know. I was tired of talking about it.
As she pulled on her harness and tightened the straps across her hips, I remembered that her husband had passed away not that long ago. Maybe she understood.
“Thanks. Did you warm up yet?” I asked. We each had our own warmup routines. Well, she actually warmed up with cardio and stretching. I just bouldered on lower grades.
“Yeah, I did. Did you?” she asked, clipping on her chalk bag.
“Yeah. Did you want to get onto that route I did a few weeks ago? The 11c? You mentioned wanting to do it last time.” When Anna was here with us.
“Sure.” Harness on, she sat down and began pulling on her shoes, eyeing me curiously. “Don’t you usually work on Sunday nights?”
I pulled on my own harness and smiled grimly. “I didn’t realize you kept track.”
“Oh, I notice these things. You’re my climbing partner. I have to.” She stood up, grabbed the rope, and tied into the route. “The last time you were here on a Sunday night was after your fight with Anna, and that was two weeks ago, when I last saw you. What’s going on with you guys this time?”
I snorted. “You know, for someone who doesn’t really talk about her own life, you sure know a lot about mine just from my climbing schedule.” I clipped the belay device to my harness and clicked the carabiner twice to check that it was locked. “Climb on.”
She did a quick safety check of my harness and carabiner, and I did the same for her knots. For such an experienced climber, she’d always been really anal about the safety checks, and I’d never known why until recently. No wonder.
With a quick nod of approval, she got onto the route and began to climb, rocking over onto a high left foot, getting just enough height for her fingertips to hook onto a tiny crimp. “So did you take my advice? Did you guys work things out?”
I shook my head, even though she was concentrating on the wall and not looking my way. “No. If anything, we’re probably going to break up tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure why I’d said probably. More like definitely.
“Why?” she asked through gritted teeth, belying the effortless way she moved between the shallow holds. I’d thought this route was crimpossible (Lina’s word—she liked puns and wordplay) when I’d tried it, but she was making it look easy.
“It’s just not going to work out. We want...different things in life.” I sighed. That seemed like the easiest explanation.
“Ok. Still, it seemed like you guys were good together. And she would’ve made a great climber, too. I liked her.”
I sighed. “I know. I liked her, too. But I’m also moving to California, so—”
Lina’s foot slipped and my hips jerked as I counterbalanced her fall. “Shit. Seriously?” She looked down and shook her arms out at me. “You’re moving? Why?”
“To be closer to family. My mom is alone now. Our family is in California.”
“Ah...I see.” Lina nodded, no judgment or questions in her eyes. “I get it. I’m lucky, my family is in Philadelphia.”
I leaned back in the harness to get a better look at Lina. She was smart, beautiful, a great climbing partner...and she loved her family. We enjoyed each other’s company, and whenever I had trouble with Anna, I found myself hanging out with Lina. Maybe she liked puns a little too much and made up weird words, but I could get used to it. Why couldn’t we have gotten together?
But even as I had the thought, I saw the answer on Lina’s subdued face. She didn’t have Anna’s liveliness. That spark, that flame to my moth. She was too similar to me, maybe, too somber. We probably would have bored each other to death.
And perhaps most importantly, she wasn’t interested. Lina and I had been climbing together for months, yet she hadn’t really spoken to me about anything other than climbing until I started dating Anna. She was clearly rooting for us.
“Long-distance is doable, you know. I did it with my husband half the time while we were dating and he was driving around chasing crags. You should try it before you just give up on her.” She stretched her hands and rolled her wrists.
“That won’t change the fact that we want different things.”
“Why don’t you invite her here tonight to talk it out? I’m sure she’d be reasonable,” she called down, her voice too pleasant.
I frowned. “Are you just trying to get me to stay with her so you can groom her into your new climbing buddy?”
She snickered. “Ah, Ian, I knew you were smart. Guilty as charged. But also, really. She’s great! I’m sure you could work it out, no matter what it is. And for real about the long-distance. We live in this amazing age. I know you’re in tech,
