The Edge of Always

“Is it what you really want?” she asks. “You promise there’s not some part of you that’s only going through with it because of me?”

I shake my head. “No. Even though if I didn’t want it as much as you, I would do it anyway because it’s what you want—but no, I truly want it.”

That weak smile of hers strengthens again.

“And you’re right,” I go on, “it’s scary, I admit. It wouldn’t be so much if it were just you and me, but—think about this for a second. If we didn’t do this, what else would we do?”

Camryn looks away in thought. She shrugs and says, “Work and raise a family here, I guess.”

“Exactly,” I say. “That fear is the fine line between us and them.” I gesture outward to indicate “them,” the kind of people in the world we want to avoid becoming. Camryn understands; I can see it in her face. And I’m not saying that people who choose to stay in one place all their life and raise a family are wrong. It’s the people who don’t want to live like that, who dream about being something more, doing something more, but never pull it off because they let fear stop them before they get started.

“But what will we do?” she asks.

“Whatever we want,” I say. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but I mean later on. Five, ten years from now, what will we be doing with our lives, with Lily’s life? As much as I love the thought of doing it forever, I really can’t imagine it being realistic. We’ll run out of money eventually. Lily will have to start school. Then, we’ll end up right back here and become one of them anyway.”

I shake my head and smile. “Make that fear and excuses that make up that fine line. Babe, we’ll be OK. Lily will be OK. We will do whatever we want, go wherever we want to go and we’ll enjoy our lives, not settle for a life that neither of us really want. Whatever happens, whether we start to run out of money, can’t find work to replace it, Lily needs school and we have to make the decision to stay put in one place for a long time, even if that place is back here in this house, then we’ll do what we have to do. But right now—” I point sternly at the table “—right now those aren’t things we have to worry about.”

She smiles. “OK. I just wanted to make sure.”

I nod and reach across the table, nudging the hat over toward her with my finger.

“You get first pick,” I say.

She starts to reach inside, but stops and narrows her gaze on me. “Did you put Italy in there?”

“Yes, I did. I promise.”

Knowing I’m telling the truth this time, Camryn reaches the rest of the way into the hat and shuffles the pieces of paper around with her fingers. She pulls one out and holds it in her crushed fist.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” I ask.

She places her hand into mine and says, “I want you to read it.”

I nod and take the paper from her and carefully unfold it. I read it to myself first, letting my imagination run wild with visions of the three of us here. I was so fixated on winning that bet with Brazil that I never thought much about any of the other countries, but now that I’ve lost, it’s easy to imagine.

“Well?” She’s getting impatient.

I smile and toss the strip of paper onto the table, faceup. “Jamaica,” I announce. “Looks like we both lost the bet.”

Camryn smiles widely. That tiny strip of paper lying on the table in front of us is something so much more than paper and ink. It has officially set in motion the rest of our lives together.

Camryn

40

And what an amazing and wonderful life it turned out to be.

I remember it like it was yesterday, the day we left in late spring and set off for Jamaica. Lily wore a yellow dress and two flower barrettes in her hair. She didn’t cry or fuss on the plane to Montego Bay. She was the perfect angel. And when we arrived at that first destination, the moment we stepped off the plane and into a new country, it all became real.

That was when Andrew and I became… different.

But I’ll get to that in a moment.

This was a long time ago, and I want to start from the beginning.

For two months leading up to the day we boarded that plane, I remained afraid of going through with it. As much as I wanted to do it, as often as I told myself that Andrew was right and that I shouldn’t worry, I always worried, of course. So much so that two days before we were to leave, I almost backed out.

But I thought back to a time when Andrew and I first met, when he made me shove his clothes into that duffel bag, of all things:

“So, where are we going to go first?” I said, folding a shirt he gave me to pack, on top of the pile.

He was still rummaging through the closet.

“No, no,” he said from inside, his voice muffled. “No outlines, Camryn. We’re just going to get into the car and drive. No maps or plans or—” He popped his head out of the closet and his voice was clearer. “What are you doing?”

I looked up, the second shirt from the pile already in a half fold.

“I’m folding them for you.”

I heard a thump-thump as he dropped a pair of black running shoes on the floor and emerged from the closet. When he made it over, he looked at me like I’d done something wrong and took the half-folded shirt from my hands.

“Don’t be so perfect, babe; just shove them in the bag.”

A seemingly insignificant moment we shared, yet it was ultimately what gave me the courage to get on that plane. I knew that if I stayed, if I continued to put too much thought into it, the only thing I’d accomplish would be to let fear control my, our, entire life from that point on.

And every day that I look back on our life now, the only thing that scares me anymore is knowing that we came within an inch of spending the rest of our lives in North Carolina.

We spent three weeks in Jamaica, loved it so much that we didn’t really want to leave. But we knew that we had so much more to do, so many places yet to see. And so one night after mingling on the beach with the locals, Andrew reached inside the bag (we swapped out the cowgirl hat for a purple Crown Royal bag, since it was easier to carry around) and pulled out Japan. On the other side of the ocean…

This was something we didn’t anticipate.

Needless to say, we ditched the bag and the draw-a-country-at-random idea altogether because of this. We started choosing where to go next based on our location: Venezuela, Panama, Peru, and eventually Brazil. We saw them all, spending the longest time, two months, in Temuco, Chile, and avoiding at all costs places known to be more dangerous to travelers, cities and even whole countries in any state of unrest. And everywhere we went, we found ourselves feeling more and more a part of each culture. Eating the food. Participating in the events. Learning the languages. Just a few key phrases here and there was mostly what Andrew and I managed.

And we did go back home to the United States for the holidays. Thanksgiving in Raleigh. Christmas in Galveston. New Year’s in Chicago. And, of course, we also spent Lily’s second birthday in Raleigh. We took Lily to her doctor to get a checkup and to keep her shots up-to-date. And yes, Andrew got checkups too, and just like his daughter, he was as healthy as a horse.

Just before spring, Andrew agreed to the idea of letting Natalie and Blake rent our house. It was kind of perfect, actually. They were looking for a place, and we could have used the income, plus it eliminated us having to pay any more utility bills. We still had plenty of money in the bank, but traveling like we were was definitely putting a dent in it. But we started learning the ins and outs of spending while abroad by taking advantage of hostels and cheap hotels and even cheaper vacation homes. We didn’t need luxury, just a safe and clean place for Lily.

But what I think what saved us the most money was that we never traveled anywhere as tourists. We didn’t buy souvenirs or anything that we didn’t need. We weren’t there to join the vacationers on guided tours or to spend money doing all of the things that people planning a vacation might do. We only bought the necessities and occasionally splurged on some good food or a new toy for Lily when she’d get bored with the one she had.

And we did perform every now and then for a little extra money, but with Lily, we never performed together. Since we wouldn’t dare think of leaving Lily in someone else’s care even for a few minutes, I stopped performing altogether, and Andrew played his acoustic and sang for a while on his own. But ultimately, he stopped, too. Foreign countries. Different styles of music. Completely different languages. It didn’t take us long to see that our music wasn’t as effective in these places as it was back home.

A few months after Lily’s second birthday, Andrew and I decided that it was time to move on. We wanted to see as much as we could before we had to settle down somewhere so that Lily could start school. And I was ready to see Europe. So as summer drew nearer, Portugal became our next destination.

Andrew and I “grew up” the day we stepped off that plane in Jamaica. That was what I meant when I said we became different. Sure, Lily straightened us up a lot after she was born, but when we walked off the plane and felt the breeze on our faces, not only did I finally know that the air really does feel different in other countries, but we knew that it was for real. We were far away from home with our daughter, and no matter how much fun we might have from that day forward, we could never let our guard down.

We grew up.

Andrew

41

I think a lot about my life before, even before Camryn and I met, and I see that it’s kind of scary how much I’ve changed. I was what she calls a “man whore” when I was in high school. And, OK, I was a bit of a man whore after high school, too—she knows about every woman I’ve ever been with. About my partying days. She knows pretty much everything about me. Anyway, I think about my past a lot, but I don’t miss it. Except every now and then when reminiscing about growing up with my brothers, I do feel that nostalgia that Camryn was talking about our second time in New Orleans.

I don’t regret anything I did in my past, as wild as I was at times, but I wouldn’t do it over, either. I managed to get through that life and score a beautiful wife and daughter, which I really don’t deserve.

I found out yesterday that Aidan and Michelle, after two kids and years of marriage, are getting a divorce. I hate that for them, but I guess not everybody is meant to be together like Camryn and me. I wonder if they could’ve made it if they hadn’t killed themselves working. That bar consumed my brother, and Michelle was being consumed by her job, too. Camryn and I talked about how they seemed to be drifting apart, even on Camryn’s first visit to see them before Lily was born.

“All they do is work,” Camryn said one night last year. “Work, take care of Avery and Molly, watch TV, and go to bed.”

I nodded contemplatively. “Yeah, I’m glad we didn’t end up like that.”

“Me, too.”

Asher, on the other hand, is with a sweet girl named Lea. And I’m proud to say that they decided one day to spontaneously make the move to Madrid. My little brother has really done well for himself, landing a job as a systems software engineer, which allowed him to relocate. He didn’t have to. He could’ve stayed put in Wyoming, but apparently he’s more like me than I knew. Thankfully, Lea shares his interests and determination; otherwise, their relationship would end up more like Aidan and Michelle’s than mine and Camryn’s. And Lea’s income from selling handmade dresses on the Internet is pretty awesome, I hear. Camryn thought about trying something like that out, until she realized she’d have to sew.