A decision had to be made and that was to drive back to Missoula to stay with Caleb’s sister, Jessi, for two weeks while Caleb tried to stay off his feet. It’s rough on me to drive with no intention of stopping until we arrive at our destination. This has never been why I drive over choosing to fly, but Caleb was stuck between putting his foot on the dash or cramming himself in the back seat – both uncomfortable, so better to do less.

Our arrival is celebrated by kids lighting fireworks on the corner and leaving their trash behind. I spent the night connecting with other hikers I’d met on Instagram so I could continue to follow their journey. The next morning was met with half an avocado on the floor and later Lady attempted to eat a chicken from the backyard because her dog bowl and the cats’ bowls were empty.

We find more time in the mornings for coffee, sometimes even a second cup. Jake is up first to chat before work, and Jessi talks with us between her errands and medical appointments for her helpless dad, who is a mental burden to be around, which is why we won’t be seeing him on this visit. Instead, we get to hang out on the back porch and listen to the neighbors learn to mow and play the drums.

There are two kids in this house but only one of them chooses to join us for dinner and movie nights. Two afternoons are spent watching The Mirage about the fastest known time on the PCT in 2021, the World’s First Ironman in Antarctica completed in 2020, and The Honey Hunters of Nepal and their climbing abilities filmed in 2022. When you can’t be out doing great things, it helps to watch others achieving their dreams.

The movies watched, all prison-themed, are The Shawshank Redemption (1994), Let’s Go to Prison (2006), and The Green Mile (1999) which have us up until midnight (not long after sundown around here). Caleb helps make dinner and buys groceries. He’s having no trouble being domesticated while I’m slowly losing motivation to get out of bed. Learning that the post office has royally messed up a simple change of address doesn’t help.

Jessi understands our situation, especially having to recover from a stress fracture in her hip that took way longer than she thought necessary. I agree, all injuries should only take a day or have a way for you to resume your normal life, which is why my bones take longer to heal. I find ways to move around their weakness as that’s what my generation was taught – to suck it up and carry on.

She offers to take us on errands and we always say yes, unless it’s Costco (not sure why). She got a puzzle that we spent an afternoon completing and recommended places to go where Caleb and I can watch butterflies or bison. I’m kept in the loop that my fellow hikers have summited Mount Whitney and wore all their clothes and sleeping bags to take in the views and necessary snacks. I’m glad we helped get them through the desert and wish them all the luck to get to the border.

Caleb sleeps more too as a way to get through the heat and boredom that comes from being in a space that isn’t his and isn’t easy to navigate. He sews a rip in his pants while I look up cold parks to visit. We wash the car and I get some writing done. I’ll go for a walk near dusk and find a man in a dumpster full of books, who happily hands them to me until he leaves. Jessi and I return with a stack each.

I have missed books, such is life that you must choose what or who you prefer to go without more. I brush Lady and give her treats while I cut the mats from her fur. I brush Milly, a cat with dander, who loves the loss of hair and dead skin. Then I return to read outside while I listen to the sprinkler.

Lady has chewed my chapstick, along with a bag of rice, Jessi’s hair clip, a cardboard tube, and anything else she deems a toy when she can get away with it. Caleb takes all the drinks he bought for hikers out of the car and it stresses me out as it continues to finalize a decision that I am trying to live in denial with. We are getting into a routine here, so I know it’s time to leave, even if Caleb has found a neighbor with cherry trees.

I try to change things up and take the bicycle that is offered. The hand grips are gross, and Caleb’s borrowed ride doesn’t shift gears, but we don’t make it far before that is over, too. I can’t help but be sad as I feel trapped in a twilight zone. Injuries are better managed when you can see them and have a finite plan of healing. That’s no longer an option with an aging disabled veteran.

My sister was the first call I returned. She was worried about me (finally having less phone signal than her) and wanted to share the news that though she is one year younger than I, she is now a grandma. Children don’t choose their parents, but I wonder what the world would be like if they were given the option.

Feeling exhausted, I hesitated to call anyone else and was grateful when the other end continued to ring. I had made my attempt at re-entering society and could take another break. I didn’t realize how difficult it would be for me to share the news that we are off trail, but once I shared it via text with one person, it became easier to let others know. This doesn’t mean I accept the situation, but I let Caleb know that time will come.

I had a dream that I was going to perform in the second half of a play by taking an actress’s spot. I realized I didn’t study my lines that I’d been given a week to do. Imagine my surprise when the director says that I can ad-lib, and I happily make my way to the stage, only to find that the crowd is going home during intermission because it’s getting late.