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Maye looked at Randall, then looked at the map, then looked around their condo at the clothes and shoes and boots and belts and… “You want to hike the Appalachian Trail?” she asked.

“Yup,” Randall said, popping the “p” at the end as confidently as he could.

“Okay,” Maye said calmly. “I think I know what’s happening here.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Maye, don’t do this. Don’t try to wrap this all up into some compensation theory, or escapism fetish, or some other deep subconscious desire.”

“Well, you tend to get a little antsy like this, and you’ve been known to have the urge to break your routine a few times a year. It’s completely understandable, Randall. You’ve worked at that furniture shop since you were fourteen.”

“This isn’t like that,” he said.

“No? Hiking the Appalachian Trail is not like your idea of carving a canoe out of a single tree trunk?”

Randall sighed deeply.

“Or buying land in Fiji sight-unseen?” Maye pressed.

“It was the real estate opportunity of a lifetime!” Randall repeated for the ‌hundredth time. “How was I supposed to know that ‘EIA’ stood for ‘Environmental Impact Assessment’? I thought I was getting early insider access. And I thought the fact that the red-throated lorikeet had nested on the land was just a bonus selling point.”

“They’re one of the world’s most endangered parrots, and they’re only found in Fiji, Randall. A ten-second search would have told you—”

“This is different!” he declared.

Randall sat down again and flipped over the map. He had scribbled notes on the back in his signature chicken scratch. She’d have to just trust that what he was reading was the same as what was written down because there was no way she could read his handwriting. “At a hiking pace of five miles every two hours,” Randall looked up, “which is a very average pace according to my research. “Two hundred miles would take eighty hours. At eight hours a day, that’s a ten-day hike. Ten days to hike the Appalachian Trail through the White Mountains. Five miles every two hours might be on the slow end, actually.”

Maye knew she had to tread lightly here. If she expressed too much criticism, he could shut down. If she expressed too little interest, then she’s not taking him seriously. This could be a symptom of self-actualization. Randall had shared with Maye in the past that he feels as though he’s achieved as much as he can in his career and so maybe his mind was wandering to other accomplishments. A completely reasonable thought process. Or maybe Randall’s father had finally decided on a retirement date and a formal handover of responsibilities was looming? This could be a reaction to something like that. The threat of his father’s retirement triggered similar reactions in the past. At this point, though, it was important for Maye to stay calm and talk this through to find out what was actually going on.

She looked around the room. “This doesn’t seem like a lot to pack for a ten-day hike, though, does it?” she asked, thinking it seemed like a non-accusatory, legitimate question that signaled intrigue in the topic.

Randall flipped the map over again. “Well, there are stops along the way where you can replenish essentials and pick up consumables.”

“Consumables? Essentials? Whoa, who am I talking to, Robert Irwin?” Maye teased.

Randall blushed the way he always did when Maye complimented him. “Well, Robert Irwin’s more of an animal wrangler than a hiker and survivalist. Anyway, there are spots to stop along the trail so hikers don’t need to overstuff their packs with gear—” he caught himself this time before Maye could even respond. “Don’t even start!” he said, holding up a hand. “Anyway,” Randall continued, “I’ve marked some rest stops and attractions along the route that would be cool to see…”

As Randall pointed out hiking shelters, the Bigelow Range, and Grafton Notch State Park along the trail, something strange started happening inside Maye. Maybe she had too much red wine before dinner, or maybe there was something funny in her ziti, but her cousin Tracy’s words kept ringing in her head: You need some fun in your life. You need a hobby. Could backpacking actually be fun, Maye thought? Did she just discover her new hobby? She looked great in hiking clothes. And she could pack snacks. And add some new birds to her bird-watching app. She could make her own granola! No, Maye stopped herself. This was crazy, wasn’t it? She couldn’t just take off for ten days without notice. She wasn’t prepared. Did she even own hiking boots? Had Randall gotten her a pair? Was he going to surprise her with a new pair for their impromptu trip? She could probably get someone to cover most of her upcoming appointments and reschedule the rest. Ten days was not actually that long of a trip. Was she being real right now? What if…Maye had to stop herself before she fully let the thought creep in. But her curiosity got the best of her at that moment. What if Randall was planning to propose? An Appalachian Trail proposal was not exactly how she imagined it, but this could be the start of a new chapter. Maye, the engaged hiker and her hiker fiancé. It had a nice ring to it.

“You probably had a whole argument ready to try to convince me to want to do this, but I think I might surprise you with what I’m about to say,” Maye said, smiling.

“Oh,” Randall said, folding up the map. “Well, um,” his hands and voice shook. “I think maybe I’m going to surprise you with what I’m about to say.”

Ohmygosh, Maye thought. He’s going to do it right now. This is it. We’re going hiking as an engaged couple. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a smile and turned towards him in her chair, ready to soak in every single one of the next five words.

“Maye, I’m going hiking alone.”

Those were not the five words Maye was expecting.

A whiplash of emotions flung Maye back in her chair like the wind had been knocked out of her. Words escaped her. What can I say right now when I’ve misread this situation so extremely, she thought. She shrank back into her chair, wishing she could disappear through it into some alternate universe where this had never happened.

“I feel so stupid,” she mumbled. “I bared my soul and look where that got me.”

“Bared your soul?” Randall said. “You offered to go hiking—”

“When was the last time you were vulnerable?” Maye interjected. “You don’t know how it feels. And when exactly were you going to explain this to me, Randall? Maybe after dessert? Did you want me to finish up some of your laundry? Maybe re-lace your hiking boots while you muster the cojones to tell me you’re leaving me?”

“Well, I already put new laces on—”

“That’s not the point, Randall!” Maye shouted. She took a deep breath to collect herself. These types of things happen with people all the time. It’s just about managing it and responding positively. “Look,” Maye said calmly, “this is just a midlife transition. It’s very common for people to face an existential change or enter a brief period of intense psychological distress. This is something you can get through, and maybe start with a less drastic adventure? You sprained your ankle climbing the escalator at the mall. Are you sure your body can handle it? Maybe take a local hike? And tell me about what’s causing this sudden reaction.”