Chapter 4
lovelillibet When we travel, so much of our focus is on moving our bodies through space that it’s easy to forget we are also expanding our hearts and minds. Our interior journey can be as profound as the outer one if we are willing to let go of our expectations and plunge into each new experience with the innocence of a child. Drink in the difference. Let it fill you up.
The farther you go, the closer you are to finding yourself.
Love, Lillibet
Image: A hand reaches to the sky, creating the illusion of grasping the nose of the passenger plane flying high above.
#flymetothemoon #changeofscenery #firstclassperks #newisnow
A highway was a highway, in Jefferson’s experience. Asphalt, concrete, and cars set the scene, whether you were in Wyoming or West Virginia. That wasn’t the case here. The signs were the same Astroturf-emerald but the place names were so long and full of vowels you needed a deep breath before diving in.
As their route led them farther from the airport, more details crept into the frame. Trees that looked like something from Dr. Seuss. Mountains that were too close and the wrong color, an electric-green instead of the rocky gray and brown of the Tetons. The vertical ridges were rounded and undulating, with peaks that disappeared into a blanket of low-hanging clouds.
And then there was the ocean, flashes of crystalline blue that became more frequent after their town car turned onto a two-lane road that wound along the coast, playing peekaboo with the Pacific. Fruit stands and shrimp shacks with hand-lettered signs dotted the shoulder.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Hildy’s voice said from the seat beside him. “You’re so grateful you came. This is exactly what you needed. Thank goodness I let Hildy talk me into this,” she prompted, when he turned his gaze from the window. “I totally forgive her for the bear spray.”
Jefferson patted the back of his head.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for strings.”
“Very funny. Obviously you’re free to be yourself. Within certain parameters.”
One of the things Jefferson appreciated about Hildy was her directness. You always knew where you stood with her, because she’d told you where to go and how to act once you got there. Hildy wasn’t the type to say, Can we eat at that new steakhouse tonight? I have a craving for red meat, when what she really meant was, The guy I’m sleeping with behind your back will be there and I enjoy the drama of lying to your face.
“I was planning to hang back and let you do your thing. Carry heavy bags as needed. Is that about right?”
“Don’t sell yourself short, JJ. You’re not my golf caddie. This is a time for you to relax. And take plenty of pictures. Did you know I’ve always wanted to have my own photographer?”
“I shoot pictures of wildlife, Hildegarde. It’s not exactly covers for Vogue.”
“Yes, but if you can make bighorn sheep look hot, imagine what you’ll do with all this.” She fluffed her hair, waiting a beat before elbowing him in the side. “Joking aside, I super-appreciate you being here. I know this is a big step outside your comfort zone.”
He gave a stiff nod. A certain amount of steamrolling had been involved, but they both knew he was letting her get away with it. Despite being an only child, she’d taken a page straight from the little-sister playbook, a deadly combination of sad eyes and badgering. Come to Hawaii with me! We’ll have a super-fun time! And stick it to your ex-girlfriend! Did I mention that I’m an orphan?
Maybe Hildy was the one who needed a vacation, and didn’t want to go alone. She put on a good front, but there was a ticking intensity underneath the smiles—not surprising after a near-death experience.
“Try not to get all choked up,” she teased. “The optics are also on point.”
“That’s a relief.” Whatever it meant.
“Having you in the picture gives me gravitas.” She stroked her jawline with freshly painted nails. He had no idea when she’d had them done, especially considering they were a different color than last night. “I think that’s the real reason young women on the rise take up with old dudes. People assume it’s about the money, but I already have that, you know?”
He did know. Even by the standards of the wealthy winter sports enthusiasts who flocked to Jackson Hole, Hildy was in a class of her own.
“What I need is some of that craggy, old school, you-can-trust-me aura. Which you bring to the table in spades. People look at me and they see hot, young, steal-your-girlfriend-and-your-boyfriend energy. Maybe I frighten them a little, so they make assumptions about my messy personal life and lack of ambition. But then they get a load of you and it’s like, So silent! So scowly! So male! He seems solid.”
Jefferson had never thought of thirty-two as particularly ancient until he met Hildy. “Glad my geriatric self could be of service.”
“Same. Honestly, I should have thought of doing this a long time ago. Maybe not the lost-in-the-woods part but the aftermath. Our quote-unquote journey. Even my freaking uncle is giving me space. It’s like, wow, is this what it takes to get you to respect my independence?”
Hildy mentioned her uncle so often that at first Jefferson had assumed she was starved for his attention, in the same way the younger of his nieces would collapse in a heap, exaggerating the smallest injury, when she needed a cuddle. The image of an absentee billionaire too busy running his business to worry about family was less surprising than the apparent reality: a helicopter uncle who smothered Hildy with affection.
“I don’t know if it’s the ratings bonanza or being with an old guy, but I think he’s finally starting to see me as an adult woman instead of his frilly little princess. Which obviously I’m not saying you’re Viagra-ad old, because that would be creepy. You’re just different from guys my age. Not all waxed and cut with that generic gym body.” Hildy ran a hand in front of her abdomen, indicating the six-pack he didn’t have.
“I’ll put that on my tombstone.”
“Relax, Mr. Sensitive. You know you’re at least a seven, maybe a seven-point-five if you’d let me take you shopping.” She squeezed his forearm. “What I’m saying is, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m sure you would have managed just fine without me.” His mind supplied a picture of white-out winds strong enough to strip flesh from bone. “Once we got you off the mountain.”
“But it’s more fun this way. For both of us.”
Fun wasn’t the first word that came to mind for Jefferson, and not only because it wasn’t part of his standard vocabulary. The chaos of the last few days had left him feeling as though the avalanche had caught them after all and they were churning down the rocky slope at bone-crushing speed. “I appreciate the vacation,” he said politely.
“Don’t thank me. We’re on the corporate dime. Anyway, this is nothing. You should see how my uncle travels. Plus, he totally owes you for saving my life. Not to mention the part where this is a legitimate business expense. And a wonderful opportunity for personal growth.”
That last bit had the distinct aroma of something Hildy’s hero, the legendary Lillibet, would say. Indulgence as a spiritual pursuit. Hallmark for millionaires. Jefferson’s reasons for agreeing to this trip might be a little hazy, but he knew one thing: It wasn’t due to a burning desire to meet Lillibet. Thanks to Genevieve, he’d been inoculated against the charms of self-obsessed attention seekers.
“I didn’t have much else going on. As you helpfully pointed out.” The timing had swayed him almost as much as Hildy’s full-court press. A perfect blank on his calendar, in a week that happened to include his birthday. A change of scenery didn’t sound like the worst idea, to bridge the gap between his old life and the next chapter.
“Honestly? Kind of an understatement. No offense, but you majorly needed to get out of town. You were in a dark and lonely place there, JJ.”
“Wyoming is an acquired taste.”
“I’m talking emotionally. Because of your cheating ex dumping you for that meat gigolo.”
“Ah.” A strange type of intimacy developed when you nearly died with someone yet had also known them less than a week. Hildy knew things Jefferson would never have shared under ordinary circumstances, but there were Swiss-cheese-style gaps in their awareness of each other’s pasts. Which was probably why she brought up his breakup so often. Jefferson generally preferred to downplay that chapter of his existence—to the point of total silence.
Though he didn’t hate the idea of Genevieve hearing about the happenings of the last week, or finding out where he was now. How was that for trying new things? Putting himself out there? Caring more about people than his “precious animals”?
Hildy nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t man-panic. I’m not going to make you talk about your feelings.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m glad I could repay the favor. You saved my life, and I’m helping you get a life.” She raised and lowered her cupped palms. “We’re balancing the scales.”
Jefferson refrained from telling her that he would have left town on his own soon enough. Two days after getting back from this little adventure, he’d be on a plane to Alaska, where he’d signed on to take pictures for an environmental watchdog group. But he didn’t want to rain on Hildy’s parade, and she probably wouldn’t think three weeks off the grid in the arctic wilderness counted as a change of pace. Besides, she wasn’t wrong. He’d been stagnant too long. It was past time for a spring thaw.
He turned his attention back to the passing scenery. There were still patches of undeveloped land on this side of the island, instead of hotels and condos crammed together like the slats of a wooden fence. Tourism was a presence, in the scattered T-shirt stands and souvenir shops, but you could tell real people lived here, too. They passed a school and a small white church, a hardware store and hole-in-the-wall restaurants that clearly catered to locals.
“There’s a resort behind those trees.” Hildy pointed at a winding road that disappeared over a suspiciously manicured rise. “My uncle stayed there on his honeymoon. One of his honeymoons,” she amended. “Amazing private beach.”
What could be worse than sharing sand with people who hadn’t paid through the nose for that privilege?
“I’m glad we’re going to have an authentic island experience. One of the best things about Lillibet is how real and grounded she manages to stay in the midst of so much privilege.”
Of all Hildy’s claims regarding Lillibet—that you could tell she was hot because she never posted pictures of her face, that she had the ideal marriage, that she made all those meals herself—this was possibly the most far-fetched. Jefferson suspected Lillibet would turn out to be as “real” as the nonsense that had been printed about him.
“Does she know you want to recruit her?”
“It was pretty strongly implied.” She smoothed her lip gloss with the tip of a pinkie, a nervous gesture at odds with her confident tone.
“How’s that going to work with her perfect life out here harvesting her own salt?”
“First off, she doesn’t do everything herself. Lillibet is all about supporting local artisans. Yes, she makes her own cheese, but that’s because of the goats. And second, if anyone can balance career and private life, it’s Lillibet.”
Jefferson grunted.
“Use your words, Grizzly Adams.”
“Seems like poisoning the well.”
She fanned her lashes at him. “I don’t speak rural.”
“What if it changes her? Different life, different person.”
“People evolve. It’s called progress. Just because you’ve had the same haircut since second grade doesn’t mean change is bad.”
His hair was actually a bit longer than the buzz cut he’d sported in those days, mostly because he hadn’t had time for a trim in the rush of their departure. Or at least it had seemed frantic to Jefferson, especially after the emptiness of the past few months. Getting a temporary phone so reporters would stop hassling him, letting his sister know he was leaving town, turning down the heat in his half-furnished apartment … the list was depressingly short, now that he thought about it. Maybe he should get a plant. He pictured a runt of a cactus, sitting on a lonely shelf in a plain little pot.
“I think this trip is a chance for all of us to embrace the new.” She wrapped one of her curls around a finger before smoothing it back into place. “You, me, and Lillibet.”
“Like when tourists come back from Santa Fe with a suitcase full of turquoise jewelry?”
“Or maybe it’s like a bunch of forward thinkers gathering on the slopes at Davos before saving the world over drinks at the lodge.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “Okay, fine, it’s not on that level.”
At least she had a sense of humor about her delusions of grandeur.
“But we are at a crossroads. Major potential energy. Remember what you told me about starting a fire in the woods?”
Although Jefferson was gradually acclimating to his companion’s lightning-fast subject changes, it still took him a few beats to catch up. “Uh, don’t do it?”
“The other stuff. Like when we were in the snow fort, and you were being super-survival-y.”
“Keep your matches dry and carry a flint steel for backup?”
Hildy’s nose wrinkled. “Doesn’t ring a bell. I’m talking about the control part. How you choose the place and find the materials, and once you light the spark it has to be nurtured like a tender, defenseless infant so it’s there when you need it. The primal power of fire at your command.”
“I said that?”
“I zhuzhed it up a little.”
“And in plain language?”
“I’m gathering sticks.”
“Uh-huh.” Jefferson had learned that if he held on long enough, he’d find the nugget of meaning in the maelstrom of words.
“Talent-spotting is a crucial skill for an editor. Lillibet is my discovery. If she hits big—and she will—I get the credit. Corner-office time.”
“What about college?”
Hildy bristled. “What about it?”
“Don’t you have a year left?”
“Who cares? If I already have the job I want, the degree is meaningless.”
“You might feel differently about it later on.”
“I’m an attractive young woman with a trust fund who happens to be in a sorority, Jefferson. People are going to judge me no matter what piece of paper I have hanging on the wall. I could rack up a dozen Pulitzers and they’d still be like, You know she only got that job because of her family. So spare me the lecture about making good choices. Sometimes the unconventional path is a shortcut to fulfillment, even if it looks like a rockier road.”
“Lillibet?” he guessed.
“She speaks to me. It’s like she knows exactly what I need to hear. Lillibet would understand that this is my moment. I have the taste, I have the talent, it’s my time. You know what that means?”
Jefferson was still imagining Hildy’s affirmations shellacked to a plank in one of the tourist gift shops, with a watercolor sunset in the background. “Unlikely.”
“I’m ready to pour on the gasoline, and then boom!” She sketched an explosion with her hands. “Fire.”
“Just to clarify,” he said, after a troubled silence, “you would never do that under real-world conditions. Especially in the backcountry.”
“Totes metaphorical, babe.” She patted him on the knee. “We’re learning so much from each other. Although this is nothing compared to the wisdom Lillibet is going to drop. You better get ready to have your mind blown.”
That seemed about as likely as a polar bear attack, but Jefferson kept that to himself. “I’ll try not to swoon.”