Chapter 15 #3
So I told them about my fight with Micah.
“The thing is,” I explained, “I actually think he’s right.
I want to see the mountains where my mom grew up and be in those woods.
Maybe I’ll understand her better than I have being here, or maybe I’ll find something of my own. I just felt like he was pressuring me.”
“It’s a nice idea,” Hess said softly, as if I wasn’t being serious.
“I mean it. I think it’s what I need.”
“But where is this coming from?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking about ‘Mountain Girl,’ and—”
Hess turned to Martha. “You let her listen to that? You know how I feel—” She stopped, clearly unwilling to finish the sentence in front of me.
“Hess, you don’t get to decide—” Martha shot back.
“Yes, I do—”
“Excuse me?” I interjected. “Can you please not talk about me as if I’m not here?”
Hess’s face softened again. “I’m sorry, but—”
“What are you not telling me? I have a right to know.”
“She’s right—” started Martha, but Hess cut her off with a glare.
“I came here to learn more about my mom. The truth. Because I’m her daughter. But all you do is hide things and try to control me.”
Hess frowned, attempting to keep her composure. “I am not trying to control you, honey. There are some things that you just wouldn’t understand.”
I was so tired of this, and in that moment, I knew it was time for me to leave. I might not have known my mother, but I was certain she wouldn’t have squatted in the shell of someone else’s life like I had the past few months. She would have gone out and found her own.
“I’m leaving, and I’m going with Micah,” I declared, daring them to stop me.
“You barely know him,” Hess answered.
“I barely know you, Hess.”
She flinched. “What about college?”
“What about college?” I asked. So much had changed over the last few months that college and California felt like distant notions now. “My dad dropped out because he wanted to see the world and make art. College isn’t the answer to everything.”
Hess narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t follow anything your father did—”
“That’s not fair,” Martha cut in, and I said, “You didn’t even know him.”
Hess took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Never mind, that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is your mother wanted you to be educated. Part of why she left you all that money was to make sure you’d have the opportunities she never had.”
Fury ignited in the back of my throat. “We don’t know what she would have wanted because she’s not here. She left me that money so I could exercise my freedom, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“I’m just trying to protect you,” Hess added, more softly this time. “And to help guide you toward the right decisions.”
“You’re not my mother,” I said with an edge in my voice. “That’s not your job.”
Hess grimaced, and I saw her eyes mist over. I instantly regretted my words. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I just…”
Hess took a deep breath, and I watched her eyes dry and her face harden into that of a stranger. She turned the corners of her mouth up in a humorless smile. “No, I apologize. I didn’t mean to cross a line. You are an adult, and you can make your own decisions.”
My arms prickled, and I shivered in the AC.
I considered taking it all back, giving up on the hike with Micah, and continuing on as we had. But where would that take me? I couldn’t pretend to be this cheap reproduction of my mother any longer.
I needed to find my own way.
The sun was just coming up when I arrived at Micah’s hostel in an old, stately house near downtown. The heavy-lidded desk clerk told me it was too early for visitors, but then I heard someone coming down the stairs, and there he was, his eyes bloodshot and his beautiful hair askew.
“I thought I heard your voice,” he said, standing a few feet away. “I haven’t slept all night.”
“Me neither.”
I walked into his arms, and we held each other for a long moment, allowing our cells to regenerate.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he said into my shoulder. “And I shouldn’t have tried to force you—”
“I want to go with you,” I said, pulling back to look at him. “I just—I wanted it to be my decision.”
He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I think you’re right, that this could be good for me,” I said, smiling. “I want to stop living in the past and move on—with you.”
He smiled back, his eyes sparkling with mirth once again.
We walked to a twenty-four-hour diner down the block, and over eggs and pie, he laid out the plan for the next six months—our great adventure into the wilderness, the sacred, untouched place where, just maybe, we could find a way forward after everything, and everyone, we’d lost.
Afterward, we curled up in his twin hostel bed in the morning light, and he fell asleep in the crook of my arm.
I stared up at the cobwebbed ceiling of the bunk room, and I tried to hold on to the bliss I’d felt for the last few hours.
But I could already feel it receding, replaced by the cold, tight fear that I was tempting the universe. Surely no one was allowed to feel this good and get away with it.
As hard as I tried to shake it off, I knew, somewhere deep inside me, that something terrible was lurking on the horizon.
And there was no escaping it.