Chapter 16
ANNA
I was not prepared for this trip.
Oh, I’d packed plenty and appropriately. And for an amateur travel planner, Zoe had organized a trip any expert travel concierge like me would be proud of. But I did not heed my own advice: research.
I should have researched everything people don’t tell you about scattering a loved one’s ashes.
For instance, ashes are sticky, and not just when you’re wet and the wind’s blowing in your direction. When you get them on your fingers—which I’ve discovered is almost impossible to prevent—they won’t readily come off with a quick, indiscreet hand brush. They cling to you like sweater lint.
Then, there’s the bone fragments.
Nobody told us Zoe’s remains would be a mix of ash and bone.
I mean, I cannot not hear there’s something else besides ash inside the urn.
I just haven’t wanted to accept what that something is.
And up until this morning, I’d been able to do that.
Up until Holly poured some of the remains into the stream Brody had found for us and we watched them float away.
To repeatedly see our vibrant, energetic friend reduced to what looks like cement mix hit me unexpectedly hard today.
I know Holly hasn’t been immune either. The expression on her face told me she was deeply affected.
I tried talking with her about it on the ride back to the ranch, and again later at the cabin, but she’d change the subject or bury her nose in her laptop.
I tried reaching out to Leo and Alice but neither answered, which only made me feel lonelier.
Alice was probably just busy. But Leo is being distant.
He’s clearly keeping things from me, too.
So, here I am, hiding in our bathroom, spilling my guts on social media. Because I have to talk it out somehow.
Zoe, I love you and would do anything for you. But this is so much harder than I imagined.
Holly paces outside the bathroom door, wound tighter than the charging cords I’d packed. I see her shadow under the door move back and forth. I can hear her muttering to herself. I’m tempted to offer her one of my valium.
She bangs on the door. “Are you done yet?”
“One more minute.” I flush the toilet for effect and tap the share button, watching the photos of Zoe’s waterfall and wildflowers I’d picked for her go live. Then I rest my phone on the sink counter and look at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror. No hiding the fact I’ve been crying.
Good. Maybe Holly will finally agree to talk.
“I need to brush my teeth and we need to get to bed,” she lectures from the other side.
“Yes, Mother.” I stick my tongue out at the door.
After I splash cold water on my face and blot it dry, I plaster on a friendly smile and swing open the door.
“All done.” I breeze past her to my side of the room and plop onto my bed, my hands in my lap folded around my phone.
It’s already buzzing with notifications from my latest post.
Holly leaves the door cracked and I can hear her brushing her teeth, getting ready for bed. I’m emotionally wiped but too wound up to sleep. “Today was hard,” I say to the partially open door. Maybe she’ll finally talk to me if she doesn’t have to look at me.
“How are you feeling about what we did?” I ask a little louder, a little more frantic for her ear.
I overheard her on the phone while I was in the shower telling Jack about this morning, envious she has someone who’ll listen to her.
Someone who knows how she likes her pillows arranged at night, or the favorite shows she enjoys watching in the evenings. I’m just envious she has her someone.
Holly spits into the sink and the faucet turns on.
I toss up my hands. She’s impossible. It’s like talking to a tree.
The water shuts off and I abruptly stand, itching for human interaction before I lose my mind. “Let’s go out,” I announce.
“What?” Holly pokes her head out of the bathroom. She’s wiping her face with a towel.
“The staff are having a bonfire at their cabins. Brody invited us.” I peel off my jeans and crop top and shimmy into a pink gingham minidress with puff sleeves and square bodice and step back into my red vegan cowgirl boots.
Holly stares, slack-jawed. “Our van leaves at five. We need to get some sleep.”
I know. She’s mentioned that enough times already.
I glance at my phone. “It’s only 9:42. We’ll go for a little while. It’ll be fun.” We could both use a bit of fun.
“We should have been asleep an hour ago. You haven’t even packed yet.”
“Phftt.” I flap a hand at the mess scattered around my bed.
“That’ll be a breeze. Thirty seconds, tops.
” Stuff and zip. Easy-peasy. “Come on, Holly.” I’m practically whining, two steps shy of getting on my knees and begging for things to go back to the way they used to be between us. “It’s been a long day.” Lonely, too.
While Holly FaceTimed with Jack and Quinn, I’d wandered down to the corrals where Brody had been working with a colt. Watching him was better than daytime television. Nothing like a soothing voice and gentle hand. He used both on me during our last trip.
My body tingles at the delicious memory.
Holly’s gaze narrows. “What are you thinking?”
I imagine my neck and chest are flushed. “Nothing.” I turn my back to avoid her don’t-give-me-your-B.S. glare.
“Seriously, Anna. We didn’t come here to meet guys.”
Exactly. We came for Zoe, but you won’t talk about her, I want to scream.
But I also don’t want to fight.
As frustrating as Holly has been, I still want us to be friends, and not only because of Zoe.
As opposite as the three of us were, Zoe and Holly got me.
Ridiculous, daring, spontaneous, let’s-have-fun Anna.
With Zoe gone, Holly’s the only person on the planet aside from Leo who understands the real me.
My parents never understood me, let alone knew what to do with me.
“It’ll be good for us to get out.” It’s been such a whirlwind up to this point.
We’ve barely had time to breathe or think.
And since we aren’t talking, drinking seems to be the next best option.
Anything to take the pain away, even if only for a couple of hours.
“One beer won’t hurt.” I continue to sell her on the idea.
“We’ll sing, dance. Brody says Caleb is bringing his guitar.
” I give her a second to digest before I lay down my final card. “You know Zoe would have rallied.”
“Zoe isn’t here.” Her face tightens with restraint, and I think she’s finally going to crack. But no. She folds her towel and crosses her arms over her extra-large shirt. “How are you not exhausted?”
“I am, but I can’t stay here.”
A shadow of hurt flirts with her scowl, and I realize how that must have sounded. I’m too tired to apologize or correct myself so I don’t bother trying. I’d probably screw up my explanation and we’d end up fighting anyhow.
“Coming?” I cheerily ask one last time, opening the door.
“How late do you plan to stay out?”
Until I feel numb.
I shrug. “Don’t know.”
“Anna.” Holly’s voice comes from the bathroom doorway, flat and tired.
I pause, my hand still on the doorknob. “What?”
We stare at each other. She shakes her head and starts to turn away. “Nothing. Just… nothing.”
I’m so tired of her avoiding me that I snap. “No, not nothing.” I stalk back into the room. “Say it. Whatever you’re thinking, just say it.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She retreats back into the bathroom.
“It does matter! God, Holly, this is the problem with us. You won’t talk to me. I’ve been trying all day. This whole trip. Anything to get you to open up and actually have a real conversation with me. But you just keep shutting down.”
“I do not—”
“We’re here for Zoe.” The words tumble out faster now. “She wanted us to do this together. To fix what’s broken between us. How can we do that when you won’t even talk to me?”
Her jaw tightens.
“I know you’re hurting. I hurt too. We lost her, Hols. We lost our Zoe.” My voice cracks. “And even though I never really got you back, I feel like I’m losing you all over again when you won’t even try to—”
“What do you want me to say?” she cuts in.
“Anything! Tell me you hate me. Tell me you’ll never forgive me for Greece. Tell me something real instead of just… this.” I gesture at her, standing in the bathroom doorway with a limp towel dangling from her hand.
Silence falls over us, heavy and resolute. Holly stares at the floor, still saying nothing.
As if that’s a surprise.
“You know what? Forget it.” I turn back to the door. “I’ll go have fun with people who actually want to talk to me.”
I close the cabin door before I risk saying anything further I’d regret later and take a deep breath of sweet mountain air. Woodsmoke and pine. Forcing yet another smile, I head to the cowboys’ cabins with a bounce in my step and a heavy heart.
There are at least fifteen of them, men and women, seated around a large blazing fire.
Two guitars, a harmonica, and a banjo are being played.
Lots of beer is flowing. Brody sees me right away.
He gets up from the fallen log they’re using as a bench and rounds the campfire toward me.
He swings me around in the air with a whoop, making me laugh.
He smells of weed, cedar, and smoke, a heady combination as he returns me to earth and plants a kiss on my lips with a smack.
Then he steps back, holding both my hands, and looks me over with a tender expression.
“How are you doing?” He’d witnessed our ritual disbursing Zoe this morning, politely standing at a respectable distance.
“I’m all right.” But my tone tells him otherwise, that I’m wearing my grief on my puffy dress sleeves, and the creases edging his eyes soften.
“Your friend coming?” he asks, glancing at the path I’d just come from.
I shake my head.
His mouth turns down and he gives my hands a squeeze. “We’ll take care of you. Want a beer?”
“I’d love one.” Or three.