Chapter 19 Annabelle
Annabelle: Can you tell me about your hiking trips?
Sophie: What, specifically?
Annabelle: Do you offer hiking for downstate girlies who are half scared of the wilderness?
Sophie: You’ve just described my best customers
Annabelle:
Sophie: You busy tonight? I’ve got room in my group
Annabelle: NIGHT hiking?
Sophie: It’s called glowshoeing. You’ll love it.
I doubt I’m going to love it, but I trust Sophie. When she sends me a link to her website, I sign up for the hike, pay the fee, download the map to the trailhead, and head out.
We had several inches of fresh snow this afternoon, and the pine trees look like sugared candies. The powder muffles the forest into a dreamy hush, the kind that makes you want to whisper. The glowsticks lining the trail add an otherworldly quality.
The six women in our group didn’t get the memo. They’re between fifty and seventy, bundled in colorful jackets and radiating girls’ weekend energy, with outdoor voices, loud laughter, and occasional bursts of off-key showtunes. They’re adorable, in a “rounding up raccoons” kind of way.
Sophie is in full guide mode, her orange parka bright as a flame in the dusky woods.
She moves through the group with uncanny grace for someone who basically has sleds strapped to her feet.
“Bend your knees as we go down this slope, Lois. Leaning back a bit helps. Ope, not that much, Kimberly! Think yoga, not trust fall.”
Sophie lingers behind the group to walk beside me. “How do you like the hike so far?”
“This is beautiful,” I gush. I try to look ahead, but the trail loops around, adding mystery to the magic. “How long did it take you to plant all these glowsticks?”
“I just dragged a sled behind me and threw handfuls,” she says. “Cleaning them up is the hard part. Lots of bending.”
“I can help, if you want.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a good workout.” She nods to the chattering women who have stopped for yet another group photo. “Watching them enjoy it makes it all worth it.”
“I should have known you’d be here,” says a man’s voice from behind us.
We turn to see him coming off an unlit branch of the path.
He’s tall and broad shouldered, wearing a disgruntled expression that looks familiar.
This has to be another Neverly brother, and judging from Sophie’s sudden stiffness, I can guess which one.
She puts her hands on her hips. “This is a public trail. You don’t get to act surprised.”
“I’m not surprised. Just taking notes. The glowsticks are a nice touch. Not interfering at all with my dark sky hike.” He gestures down the trail where two couples are plodding along in their snowshoes.
Sophie gives them a half-hearted wave and calls out, “Good luck getting home! And remember, Groupon doesn’t offer refunds.”
He pretends to be stabbed in the heart. “Savage.”
“You like it?” Sophie asks with mock sweetness. “Because I’ve got plenty more.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” He turns to me. “Hi. I’m Felix.”
“Annabelle,” I say. “You plowed out my Escape, and I never got to thank you.”
A crash and a yelp come from Felix’s group. Someone’s on their knees in the dark.
“Shouldn’t you…” Sophie points to the trail behind him.
“They’ll sort it out,” he says without taking his eyes off her. “We were just talking about building character.”
“Is that what you call trudging through the unbroken hills while you yell ‘Pick up your knees!’ every five minutes?”
He folds his arms. “You keeping track of my business now?”
“Please,” she scoffs. “I have real things to do.”
“Like leading grandmothers through a toddler’s maze?”
“Better than getting lost in a swamp.”
“That happened once,” he says. “You need to let that go.”
Before Sophie can bite back, someone from Felix’s group wails, “I dropped my water bottle and it rolled down the hill.”
He winces. “Duty calls.”
“Best of luck with that.” Sophie plucks a glowstick out of the snow. “You can borrow this if you need light to find the water bottle.”
“And kill my rep? Nah.” Felix starts toward his group, but after a few steps, pauses and calls over his shoulder, “Thanks, though.”
Sophie watches his backside as he disappears into the darkness. She notices me looking and shrugs. “What?”
“It was nice of you to offer him a glowstick,” I say.
“It’s for safety. Liability. I want to make sure those people are all right.” She studies her glove like it suddenly requires professional engineering. “Don’t read anything into it.”