Chapter Thirteen
So, off we set, like the Fellowship of the Ring minus the ring and the impending death by Orcs to see this view Brick has
promised us. My soggy socks squish in my boots, and my cold, wet trouser legs remind me that I need to pee, but that is soon
the least of my issues as the trail becomes so steep that we are forced to hunch over, palms to the ground, scrambling up
over boulders and walls of dirt. At a few points I roll from hands and knees onto my butt, catching my breath and chastising
myself for my momentary enthusiasm. This time, when I fall behind, Jace is at my back.
“Take your time,” he says as he swings off his backpack and sits on the ground next to me. “Have a drink.”
We both take a swig from our water bottles and gaze out at the never-ending vista. It’s very close to a three-sixty view up
here where there are only small trees—bushes, really—and a lot of hearty scrub—nothing tall enough to block the sky. A small
yellow plane flies low over our heads. It looks like a toy. Jace waves to the pilot. “That’s my buddy, Loni. Best bush pilot
out here.” Loni dips the plane’s wing, a wave back, and disappears over a crest.
“That’s very cool, the drink for landing in the drink policy,” I say to him. “Makes people feel less like idiots. And I sure
feel like an idiot right now. I’m sorry I’m already the comic relief of the trip.” I can’t help but think it’s all part of
my sister’s MO. “Brick must buy a lot cocktails.”
“Nah, you’re doing aces,” he lies. “This thing, yeah, he’s never done that before. It’s a new one on me.”
“But, he said—”
Jace stops me with a shrug. “We’d better get cracking, yeah. Nearly there.”
One last blast to my poor screaming lungs, over more scree and through a patch of snow—just sitting there in the middle of
nowhere on a June day—and we are indeed there. Most of the group is waiting, sitting with their backs against the sunny side of an enormous boulder. Their heads swiveling
to take in the picture-perfect view. Mimi and Luna wander out from behind another large rock off a way from everyone. The
ladies’ room, I’m guessing. Jace finally steps ahead of me, having herded in the last cat, and starts to set up some low folding
camping chairs he’s been hiding in his large pack.
I plop, since plop is the only word I can think of that fully describes my action, down into one of the chairs and wrap my arms around myself.
It’s a lot colder up here—hence the snow—and my soggy clothes are giving me a chill. When I come down with pneumonia because
of Lily, she’s going to hear it from me . . .
Still, Brick wasn’t wrong. It’s beautiful up here. The closer mountains seem to slide into one another. Farther out, green
rolls across the land, stopping at a river in the distance. Behind it, the towering range, steely and snowcapped, touches
the cottony clouds. Brick points to them and shows Xavier the volcano, which looks to me the same as the other ominous peaks.
It is breathtaking.
I close my eyes, for a second, just to catch my breath, and I can hear the wind picking up and a plane engine in the distance.
And something buzzing. It takes me a moment to realize it’s my phone. We finally have service—all the way up here!
I pull my cell out of my backpack and see Xavier doing the same.
“Not here, buddy,” says his father. “Try to enjoy the view. Your phone will be there when we get back to camp.”
“But we have no service at camp,” Xavier whines.
“Zave.” Ian’s voice is stern. Zave stomps his foot but slides his phone into his pocket.
Not wanting the boy to feel worse than he does, I opt for privacy, I shove my phone in a pocket and head for the Ladies’ Room
Rock. “Off to the little girls’,” I sing.
“You are not?” chirps my sister. “You’re going to pee outside. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Well, nature calls.”
“Hold up, I’ll come with you.”
“No, I gotta go by myself, if you catch my drift.” I need to check my messages, and I don’t need to hear about it from my
sister.
“Eww, TMI.”
I turn red at the thought of everyone thinking they know what I’m about to do. Of course, admitting I was checking in at home
whilst communing with this spectacular nature would be almost equally as embarrassing.
Behind the rock I squat—no, not for that—and open my phone. Twenty-three messages from Tim, Cam, Annie, and my mother. Three
missed calls. My first thought is: So, they do need me. I’m flooded with relief and vindication. Perfectly fine without me, my ass. I start to gloat. Then I quickly switch to worry. Twenty-three message means trouble. Instead of finding out by
reading them, I call home. I start with Tim. If it is in fact bad news, he’s the one to hear it from. Now is not the time
for Annie’s hyperbole, Cameron’s monosyllabic responses, or my mother’s imaginative interpretations.
My husband picks up on the first ring. “Bridge, Jesus. Are you okay?”
Me first. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Is that Mom?” I hear Annie say. “Let me talk to her.”
“Tim, answer me.”
“I’m talking to her now. You can have a turn when I’m done.”
“Tell my daughter that I’ve been late for water aerobics twice already, through no fault of my own.”
“Okay, so we’ve established that my mother is still alive.”
“For now.”
“Dad, ask Mom where the spare set of car keys is?”
“Cam, I told you I’m handling it.”
“Wait? Cameron lost the car keys?”
“I’m handling it.”
“Mom! Where are the extra car keys?”
“Cam!”
“Well, she’s the only one who knows where anything is around here.”
“Big! Did you fall in?” Lily’s shout is carried by the mountain breeze so that, even behind this rock, Tim and I can both
hear her clear as a bell. I can also hear the chuckles from her audience.
“Fall in? What’s happening, Bridget. Are you okay?”
“I’m on top of a mountain. This is the first time we’ve had service since we got to camp.”
“Don’t tell me camp equals tents.”
“Do you need saving, Big?” More laughs.
“I see Lily is also still alive.”
“For now. She’s been in rare form since we got here.” I tell Tim about the wedding rings and the flirting, the general adolescent
attitude and the tears. “I want to help her. I really do, despite the constant snark—which I’m putting down to her, well,
her situation. I’ve tried to encourage her to talk about Eric. All she does is blow me off.”
“Maybe she’ll chill out in a day or two and then you can sit her down.”
“I think she’s projecting, or blocking, or compartmentalizing.”
“One from Column A, two from Column B? Try not to get too worked up about it. This is your vacation too. And hey, look at you. You climbed a mountain.”
I peer out from my hiding spot behind Ladies’ Room Rock. The views are as spectacular from the bathroom. “I did,” I say. “Look
at me. I really did.”