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“It’s a hot one today.” Molly attempts a laugh.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back up to our room and change?” I ask as we continue our stroll. It’s barely noon and already eighty degrees.
“I’m comfortable.” Beads of sweat coat her brow. “My mom may be checking the cameras, and I’d rather wear something she flew out for me.”
Molly obviously loves and respects her parents, but to what extent? Family isn’t supposed to micromanage you. No matter how much money sits in their bank account.
“Why does she care so much about what you wear?”
She looks over at me, resignation on her face. “Bright colors give her headaches.”
How selfish. Has Vivian ever heard of ibuprofen?
“Well, I think you always look nice.” I smile at her.
“Oh, thanks. You always look good too. I mean, not in bright colors—though if you wanted to wear more color, I’m sure a saturated forest green or a deep indigo would do your blue eyes wonders.” She stumbles through her words.
Has she given this a thought before?
“Forest green or deep indigo,” I echo. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We turn behind a building and are greeted with wild, viridescent hedges standing ten feet tall. I cringe. How are they providing enough water for these in the middle of a desert?
“Good morning, Molly and Matthew.” Lolita waits for us at the arched entryway to the maze. “Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives.”
Intense.
“Hi, Lolita.” Molly skips ahead of me. “When did we start adding mazes to our resorts?”
“It’s new,” she explains, while pulling a metal contraption out of a tote bag that hangs off her shoulder. “You’ll be trialing the journey.”
“I don’t want to overstep, but lush foliage in Sedona? That seems like an improper usage of the natural resources here.” Molly’s using her presentation voice.
Has she sounded this attractive at the office all these years?
I mean, we both work at a conservation organization. It’s not a coincidence we’d think the same environmentalist thoughts.
“We’re using reclaimed water to maintain the hedges,” Lolita explains.
“Hmm.” Her shoulders tense. “I’ll just bring it up to my father. Don’t let my rambling keep you from what you were saying. Sorry.”
“This Lover’s Labyrinth will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.” Ms. Deveaux holds up a padlock with two separate cables coming out of it. “If you will, please extend your wrists out like this.”
We mimic her outstretched hands, and she laces my left wrist and Molly’s right one together with the cable, securing the lock between us. We’re handcuffed together.
Bondage with a fake girlfriend. Another item to check off the bucket list.
“Is this necessary?” Molly asks, staring at our wrists.
“The exercise will challenge you to overcome difficult situations together.” Lolita recites her wisdom. “A couple who can navigate life’s complexities by standing beside one another and not running away can survive any bump in the road ahead.”
Our arms drop to our sides. But because of our height difference, Molly’s hand lifts, bouncing near my hip. She goes rigid when her fingers brush against mine.
“Are you comfortable?”
She nods before turning to our instructor. “Do we get a map? The maze looks huge.”
“Love cannot be understood with a map. This will be your opportunity to organize your own wonder.” Ms. Deveaux must only speak in riddles.
