Chapter 38 Thorn
The trip down the mountain is almost always just as hard, if not harder, than the climb.
The top is only halfway! a sign boasts at the summit, as if it can help prepare the inexperienced hiker for what comes next, all while neglecting to mention that at that point—if you haven’t paced yourself already—it’s too late. Your legs will be toast, and your next week will be misery.
Fortunately, the people in my care have a guide who’s done this climb hundreds of times, if not more than a thousand.
Today is the lightest I’ve felt in years.
Sadie’s words at the top unlocked something for me: something I hadn’t realized I needed to hear until the precise moment she said it.
It isn’t just this place that was special for Dad.
It was being here with me.
With that revelation, it hit me that it doesn’t matter where I choose to spend my time—my memories of us together won’t fade just because I’m not here in this specific location, hiking in circles until the day I start to haunt them as a ghost.
I only wish I hadn’t said no to Sky Ranger.
That’s not something I need to think about right now, though. Right now is for cheeseburgers and milkshakes and fries, and trying not to look as surprised or relieved as I feel that Matteo did, in fact, keep Zoe and Emma safely in one place.
“This is the best cheeseburger I have ever eaten in my entire life,” Trey says around a mouthful of meat.
“This coffee is the worst, though.” Silas makes a face, and everyone laughs.
“I’m shocked you were brave enough to try it,” Sadie says. “I’d rather have no coffee than bad coffee.”
“Thanks for sharing your stash, by the way,” Hunter says, and Sadie raises her vanilla milkshake to his chocolate one in cheers.
It’s news to me that she shared her stash, but it makes perfect sense: Sadie doesn’t gatekeep the things she loves—she wants everyone to experience them, like how I am whenever a brand-new hiker sets foot in the park.
It’s hard to believe Sadie was brand-new at the start of this trek. She’s come so far, overcome so much. I’ve met a lot of different people out here, but I’ve never met anyone like her: someone so completely out of their element that, somewhere along the way, she made it her element.
She still stands out, don’t get me wrong, thanks to her loose interpretation of the packing list: her long, beautiful hair under that cute black ball cap; her yoga-studio clothes that haven’t faded under nine days of sunshine and one of rain; her shoes and her pack and her eye mask and her pajamas and that bikini at Mackenzie Lake that left an indelible mark on my memory.
But despite all that—or maybe because of it—she seems more at home out here than I ever expected based on my first impressions.
I’m really going to miss her on the next trek.
“Can we move out to Lavender Fields pretty soon?” Matteo says, dipping a fry into what’s left of his milkshake. He’s been pretty quiet ever since we got back. “We’ve been here so long this bench has fused to my ass.”
Lavender Fields—aptly named for its meadow full of purple flowers, a scene that’s particularly beautiful during golden hour—is only a ten-minute hike away.
As soon as we get there, my adrenaline wears off and a deep exhaustion sets in.
I want to make the most of the time I have left with Sadie, but for once, I think I truly overdid it. The only thing that will help is sleep.
“Go rest,” she tells me. “We’ll all be right behind you, honestly. Even my sleeping bag sounds good at this point.”
She looks completely spent, too, now that we’ve set up camp and daylight is quickly running out; her hair falls over one eye, casting a shadow.
“Tomorrow,” I say as I reach up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “we won’t be staying long before we head out, but we’ll at least be here for one last sunrise. Want to watch it with me?”
Her eyes are pale green pools in the sunlight. I never want this day to end—but it’s fading fast, and so am I.
I’m already dreaming when her voice cuts through the haze: “Wouldn’t miss it.”