My mind drifted back to our perfect evening last night. We’d found a recipe for spinach lentil dahl in an Indian cookbook, shopped at the grocery store, and fixed it together. She brightened when we discussed her favorite romance plots, then listened intently while I talked about climbing.
The whole night could have been ripped right from a book. Particularly the part where I desperately wanted to kiss her.
But I didn’t, because . . . I didn’t know. Maybe the expectation of the first kiss? Did she have massive dreams for this?
This morning, she’d started into the website project with her usual organized gusto. She’d rattled off a whole bunch of information about landing pages, CSS coding, and professional photographs of the campground. The checklists and spreadsheets she could muster at a moment’s notice were impressive, to say the least.
But now things had changed between us. Nothing was the same. We’d shown a level of interest beyond friendship. I had no idea what to do next. Let this ride? Enjoy the time with her while I had it?
Kiss her already?
Definitely.
Why does it matter? The answer came easily enough. It mattered because Lizbeth mattered.
And Lizbeth mattered a lot.
Maybe too much.
On the back of a long receipt, I’d scribbled several romantic ideas pulled from the audiobook I’d been listening to. Dancing in the rain ranked at the top, apparently. Another one suggested surprising a girl with coffee and letting your fingers linger. Didn’t get that, but all of this was foreign. The ones that had me most worried were know just what to say at the right moment and save her from inevitable danger by being a badass at fighting.
It all seemed so impossible. She believed in it so much. I didn’t at all—at least, not really. She was twenty-one. I was thirty. Did we really have a chance?
Did I want to risk another Stacey-on-the-beach scene with a girl obsessed with romance? Or was it different this time?
No, I didn’t want Stacey again, but Lizbeth was worlds different.
I shook my head, condensation from my hot breath in the cool air beading on my lower lip. A chill set into my legs where the snowbank pressed against them. I pushed forward again, nearing the top of the ridge. My thoughts moved quickly.
There was more than Lizbeth to think about today. Namely, my future career. When Mark was lounging in silence like this, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear my idea. He’d eat a mille-feuille—but would he understand the genius behind it?
My idea would have to wait again. Fortunately, he was the least-observant person on the planet. I could keep my baking and delivery rolling for another month, I imagined, before a decision had to be made.
Lizbeth, though, I didn’t need to hesitate on anymore. I wanted to date her. I wanted Lizbeth to be mine and mine alone. Forgetting Stacey seemed effortless when I compared her against Lizbeth in my mind. There was no more space for anyone else.
Now, I just had to show her that.
Somehow.
My breath came in short, erratic bursts of frosty air that fogged up my sunglasses. Overhead, the sun beat down, but bitter cold breezed along the top of the ridge like gentle breaths. I glanced behind me at the rough seam I’d broken in the snow and sighed. My toes tingled from the thick steel reinforcement of my mountaineering boots.
Still, the cold permeated everything. Sometimes, you just couldn’t fight inevitability.
I returned down the mountain as the sun sank lower in the winter sky, Lizbeth on my mind.
25 Lizbeth
The bustle of a small café at the edge of Jackson City flowed around me. I enjoyed the sounds and vitality of life after the absolute silence of the mountains. Ellie would stop by in a few minutes on her way back down the canyon to Pineville. I couldn’t wait to see her.
At least I didn’t have to stare at the burned-out shell of the Frolicking Moose. Even though I’d broken the ice on my grief at the bookstore, I still wasn’t ready to face it. Then I’d have to admit how much I missed the twinkle lights around my bed. The smell of coffee. Not having to herd Mark.
Actually, that wasn’t so bad. He’d come up with some amazing ideas today after sitting in a vegetative state on the couch for an hour.
Weird, but effective.
While I thought about the soft touch of JJ’s hand on my knee during the ride up and the feeling of his fingertips against my back when we walked out to the truck, Ellie dropped into the seat across from me. A flurry of cold air and snow yanked me from my thoughts.
“Hey,” I said.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late.”
Her keys jingled as she set them on the table and pulled off her parka. Beneath it she wore a fitted aquamarine athletic shirt that made her eyes bright. Two men sitting nearby perked up. She trained her cold glare on them in seconds, and they shrank away.
She wrapped her hand around a mug of hot chocolate I’d ordered for her. Snowflakes sprinkled from her hair and melted on her shoulders.
“It’s good to see you,” she said around a sip. “I’ve missed you.”
“Same. Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime.”
“So, tell me everything I’ve missed,” I said.
She cracked a smile. “We just talked yesterday.”
“Yeah, but it’s different in person! How’s school? Did Mav finish the new shelves in the garage? What’s going on with Devin’s college admissions?” I asked. “Are the two of you still looking at State University?”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Not sure. He hasn’t said much about them, which is weird because he seemed all excited for a while. Then he spoke to some recruiters, and now he’s quiet.”
“Think he’ll go into the military?”
She shook her head. “No way. He promised me State University so we can go together. I’m graduating early next year so I can get
