Chapter One #3
The lump blocked her throat completely, and her left thumb came up to rub at the spot as her vision blurred.
How could Bud ask that of her? She scoffed and cleared her throat, almost incredulous that he would even suggest such a notion.
She wanted to find words, to release all her feelings in a rage-filled scream.
To let him know how disrespectful that was.
But instead, she stayed silent, diverting her eyes down to the bed.
“Annie and you, well, y’all were definitely made for each other.
Hell, you took care of Annie all the way through to the end.
There wasn’t a moment where you faltered.
And honestly, you’ve done nothing but torture yourself every day since she died.
I think it’s time to put yourself first. God, Mo, you just have lost so much time. ”
Blinking hard, Mo bit her lip to keep hold of the energy building behind her eyes.
She didn’t want to break down, especially not now, cornered and defenseless.
After a few more tense moments, he started folding again, and Mo moved her focus to her hands, hoping he would just drop the subject altogether.
But that was too much to ask from someone like Bud.
“What ya think?”
“I—” Mo blew a raspberry before putting her hands in the air. “What do you want from me?”
The drawer shut suddenly, a concerned Bud now lumbering toward her. But Opal put out a hand to stop him, choosing to take control of the intense moment and crawl up next to Mo on the bed. With a gentle touch of her hand on the side of Mo’s knee, Opal offered, “I mean, I have an idea.”
Bud put each of his large hands on either hip, his face softening at her words. “What’s that, babe?”
“Maybe,” Opal started, her voice hesitant. “You should go on a trip?”
“A trip?” Mo whined slightly, the whiplash of this conversation getting to her.
“Sure. Maybe somewhere more…” Opal looked out the window, pursing her lips in thought. “More adventurous than an old country-western bar.”
“Okay…”
“I know you never really had interest in backpacking with Annie and I, but she absolutely loved Redwoods National Park. There is a creek there, Redwood Creek, it runs vertically through the park.”
“Can she even do that?” Bud questioned. “I think her coming to the loft—”
“The water levels drop as summer goes along,” Opal cut him off, squeezing Mo’s knee. “May was challenging enough for her without being unsafe for the two of us.”
“You want me to go to a national park?” Mo met Opal’s gaze, hoping her facial expression was sending home how ridiculous that request was.
“Could be one of them grand gestures,” Bud added. “Kinda like they do for people to find closure in the movies?”
“You don’t have to backpack it, but you could maybe make a trek up there. Pitch a tent, check out the redwood groves, find your peace along the creek side.” Opal squeezed her knee again. “It’s just an idea.”
“I—”
“I think you should go for it!” Bud exclaimed, clambering up onto the bed and into Mo’s space. “Annie woulda loved for you to become one with the trees. She always said the closest you got to nature was what splashed up on you from the bow of your boat.”
“Annie loved it out there,” Opal said, her wistful smile pulling at the strands of Mo’s heart. “She loved you more, though.”
Before Mo could respond, Opal leaned back slightly, sliding her hand into the pocket of her shorts.
She then pulled out a small, cylindrical object that was foreign to Mo.
She watched as Opal twisted it slowly in her palm, almost reverently, before offering it to Mo.
“This was Annie’s. I found it mixed in with some of my gear and I—I think she’d prefer you have it. Especially if you are going up there.”
Mo took the cold object from her friend, studying it delicately.
It was mostly cylindrical, with another smaller circle attached along the side in a lip-like parallel, about an inch in diameter and at least three inches long.
The casing was sealed wood, an almost medium ash, with steel edging.
Intricate leaves were engraved in the steel, dancing around the outside in a random pattern.
The partially circular bottom had a single indented line, and the top sported a small, grip-edged dial over the circle that jutted out from the main body of the piece.
Mo had no idea what it was, but before she could ask Opal, her eyes spotted the engraved AR along the top edging, nestled amongst the engraved leaves.
“What do you think?”
“I think…” Mo pulled away. “I want to be alone.”
“We could pack the Subaru for you—” Bud started, his body leaning toward Mo’s.
“No,” Opal interrupted him, standing from the bed before pulling lightly at his elbow. “Let’s go.”
She led Bud from the room, and Mo didn’t move until the door clicked shut.
With an exasperated groan, she fell back on the bed.
Too tired to turn off the light, she ignored the deep pain of hunger from her stomach.
Bud and Opal’s visit had only deepened her melancholy.
There was no way she was going to move in with the pair, especially after seeing Bud’s true perception of who she had become.
But the thought of a road trip north was not as rewarding as Opal was making it sound.
The redwoods had sort of haunted her for a few years now because she knew how much they had meant to Annie.
Going there didn’t sound like a beginning—it sounded more like the end.
Maybe that is what it would be. A poetic end to what Mo’s life had become.
Her eyes slowly moved around the room, taking in how empty and sterile it felt.
It was all too similar to the feeling their home had given her when Annie wasn’t there to fill it.
This wasn’t the type of place she wanted to die in.
Cold, alone, and without any decent memories of Annie to help comfort her.
But as she considered her friends’ offer, all those post-backpacking talks where Annie had explained every minute detail of Redwood Creek filled her mind.
The enormous trees, lush greenery, clear water, wide skies.
The descriptors enveloped her soul while a memory of an excited Annie, dirty and tired, sat firmly in front of her.
The overwhelming feelings cascaded over her, pulling her center in one direction.
Her wife’s lifelong passion could be her savior.
A more selfish part of her was hoping it could be her executioner instead.
Mo cleared her throat then, with a lurch, she reached for her cell phone and quickly dialed Opal. Barely one ring in and Opal’s confused voice answered, “Mo?”
“I think you two are right.”
“I’m sorry? What do you mean?”
Mo cleared her throat, willing her voice to sound more hopeful than tragic.
“I don’t know if you knew, but I regret not going on a backpacking trip with Annie.
I remember her endlessly describing the redwoods and how much she loved it there.
And every time she asked, I promised her that I would go next year.
Next year. Next year. I think I’ll do it. I think I’ll go.”
“Awesome.” Opal’s voice calmed rapidly. “Do you want me to accompany you?”
“No, too last minute. And besides, you have a shop to run and clients to please. I’ll be fine by myself.”
“How long will you stay?”
Mo pondered for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “At least a few weeks. Maybe a month. I want to take my time with it.”
“Okay, sounds good. I will let Bud know.” Opal paused for a few moments. “And if you need me, or Bud, we are just a phone call away.”
“I know, and I will call if I need anything,” Mo lied. “Thanks, bye.”
“Bye.”
Mo tossed her phone off the side of the bed, not caring where it landed. She instead held Annie’s little mystery cylinder up above her head, returning her focus to the engraved letters, letting them bounce painfully around in her head.