by Wood, Vivian
“Hey, I was thinking that we could take a break from collecting specimens today. Why don’t we hike down south a little way? There is something that I think you would like.”
She pulls a face. “I don’t know. Can you be more specific about what it is?”
I roll my eyes. “You’ll have to take my word for it. Can you trust me?”
Rachel chooses that moment to look up and pin me with her gaze. I want to say that the look in her eyes was trusting or even just well-intentioned, but no. From the quick glance I get, all I see is a mix of uncertainty and fear.
Then she looks away again. “Sure,” she mumbles.
I sip the last of my coffee, grimacing internally. She has every reason to be upset right now. I just wish I could make her stop feeling so unsure of me. There isn’t any way to do that without talking about it, though. And that is just not gonna happen.
Not today.
Not ever, if I get my way.
“I’ll clean up the dishes,” I offer. “Go get ready for today. You won’t need any of your overnight stuff, just snacks and water. Wear a bathing suit though.”
She crooks an eyebrow but just nods, heading to her cabin. I feel a pang of guilt, but I push it down inside, smother it with all the other pangs of guilt I have floating around my system.
When we meet back up half an hour later, I lead her south. I keep checking my compass to make sure that we are on the right path; the place we are going is straight up magical, almost to the point of disbelief. So the last time I was there, I made a point of learning the exact co-ordinates and how to get there from Lake Sutherland.
The day itself is bright and cheerful, the sun high and the skies perfectly blue. We slope gently downward. As we pass by, the trees start growing inward, blocking more and more of the path. The trail peters out pretty quickly. After that we have to hack our way through brush.
“There’s no hiking trail to where we are going?” Rachel asks. She steps over the exposed roots of a giant pine tree, looking distressed.
“No. But we’re not that far from it. Maybe two miles or so to go.”
When I look back, she is staring at the ground with a frown of concentration. Sucking in a breath, I push on. This will cheer her up, without a doubt. We are getting close to it now; I recognize this little hill that we are climbing. Closing my eyes, I can hear the sound of water rushing and crashing. With every step, it gets a little bit louder.
Just before we crest the hill, I stop. Looking back at her, I smile.
“I think you should go first.”
Her brow crinkles. “What? Why?”
“You’ll have to take my word on faith.” I grab her hand, encouraging her to go ahead. “You won’t regret it, though.”
Her lips dip down into a hardened frown, but she shakes off my touch and goes ahead. I hold my breath for a second, giving her a little space. Trailing a few feet behind her, I wait for her reaction.
It happens the moment she hits the top of the hill. She pauses and looks down. Her breath leaves her in a quiet gasp. Her hand flies to her lips. She looks back at me with wide eyes.
“Oh my god,” she says.
“They are there, then?”
I climb the last few steps until I am looking down into a valley. Before us is a broad expense of brown stone steps, built by someone unknown to me. They sweep down, following the river. Just here the two converge, water gushing busily down the steps.
The shallow, slower moving water attracts many forms of wildlife, but this particular clearing is big enough to draw in elk. And not just a couple of animals; the valley below us is filled with a number of them, probably twenty or so, including a few calves.
There is a full waterfall just a little way upstream. Because of some strange acoustics it seems like the sound of the water rushing fills the space we are in. It also masks our natural noise and sort of hides us from the elk.
They are pretty damned majestic, standing together and drinking from the river.
Rachel grabs my arm, her voice dropping to a whisper. “They are so beautiful!”
I smile. “They are, aren’t they?”
She nods, her eyes still wide. “Yeah. Should we find somewhere to sit and watch them for a bit?”
“Lead the way.” I wave my hand.
She takes my hand and pulls me down the hill a few feet until we’re in a grassy spot. We both sit, watching the elk as they stalk around the clearing below. I take off the light day pack I’m carrying and pull out a bag of trail mix and a bag of dried apricots. Opening the two bags in the space between Rachel and me, I graze and look down on the elk.
With so much water noise, there isn’t really any need to talk. Rachel pulls a floppy purple sun blocking hat out of her bag, donning it silently. We just sit and enjoy the warmth of the afternoon sun in silence.
Rachel nibbles on a couple of the dried apricots. I reach for a handful of trail mix at the same time as she reaches for another apricot. She looks away, turning red.
How are we in a place where last night I devoured her pussy and yet today she blushes when our hands touch by accident? I feel like it’s two steps forward and one huge step back with us.
After we’ve been sitting for a while, the afternoon sun grows hot on my face. I look up at the waterfall. I keep thinking how good it would feel to plunge my whole body in the water.
“You ready to get wet?” I ask.
She blushes bright pink. “Maybe?”
I stand up, brushing myself off. “Come on. We can put our stuff down on one of the big rocks by the waterfall and then cool off in the water.”
She trails behind me as I hike the short way uphill. I get a better view of the waterfall. It’s about twenty feet tall, with a gush of water leaping off a little cliff. The water lands with a soft splash at a spot that has been worn smooth over time. There are many big boulders clustered around the pool formed at the base of the waterfall. A testament to the way that water can cut through stone if ever there was one.
Here, the sound of the water is more intense. I drop my bag on one of the boulders and peel off my shirt. Rachel takes off her clothes, leaving her in nothing but a bright white bikini. My first instinct is to grab her and pull her into the waterfall. To kiss her and tell her to forget about what we said this morning.
But I don’t. Instead I wade into the water. Looking back, I beckon her. “Come on.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I should have brought a sample tube with me.”
Shaking my head at her, I walk under the spray. It’s icy, but I don’t mind. For a second I’m blind. Or rather, I can only see the rushing water as it pours over my face. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, letting the water wash over me.
This is one of the things I use as a tool of meditation. When everything is too crazy in my life, I sit and focus on the memory of the water rushing over my face. Of how clean I feel. I know it’s just a waterfall but for a moment, standing just here, I have lived a blameless life. I let it all just wash away with the currents.
The feeling is hypnotic, almost. Numbingly cold too. It’s only when I feel Rachel disrupting the flow of the water that I come out of the trance. Stepping out of the water, I run my hands over my head and my hair.
She ducks her head under the waterfall, coming back out with a shocked expression. “It’s freezing!”
I grin at her. “For a hydrogeologist, you are easily surprised by the temperate of water.”
She reaches down and splashes me. “You talk a lot of trash for a park ranger.”
My grin widens. “I’m glad you’re here.”
My look of surprise after the words escape my lips wars against hers. They just slipped out.
Her cheeks go pink but she doesn’t look away. “Me too.”
I want to kiss her, but I can’t do that. So instead I splash her again. She cracks up and retaliates, soaking me with a slosh.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t worry about Rachel. I don’t try to guess wh
at she is thinking or feel guilty about our past. For a period of time we’re not even Rachel and Grayson, a complex couple of people joined by a dark and twisted past.
We’re just a guy and a girl who are enjoying sloshing around in the water and splashing each other. With matching grins on both of our faces, we don’t talk about anything substantial. We simply are.
And that’s enough for right now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grayson
Four Years Earlier
Taking my first deep breath since I left the hospital, I try to steady myself. I stick my head out of the passenger window, enjoying the sunlight, and gulp down the air over the Hudson River. It reminds me of nothing but home. Well, nothing but Rachel, more like.
I haven’t talked to her in almost a year. I feel an intense yearning every time I picture her face. But then I picture telling her about where I’ve been, why I’ve been absent.
Specifically, I see her face falling when I tell her what I did.
That I wasn’t good enough.
I fantasize about witnessing her realizing that I’m not good enough for them or her or anybody.
And I just can’t take that risk. I think about it now and my whole body breaks out in shivers, even though it’s hot as fuck in the truck right now. It’s almost enough to make me tell Aiden to turn the truck around.
Almost.
I try to focus on something nice about the day, instead of being terrified about the future.
It’s beyond nice to be free of the hospital. Free of all the medications and all the whacked-out people sitting around, staring at the walls. Tripping on the meds, essentially.
From the driver’s seat, Aiden looks at me.
“You doing okay, man?” he asks. “You need anything?”
I smile at him. “Nah. Just taking in the city air.”
He snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
“No, I’m serious.” I pause. “I missed New York.”
“You missed Rachel, more like.”
I shrug. “New York is her city, after all. I’m just a kid from West Orange.”
Aiden nods vaguely. He drives us over the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan. I rub my palms against my jeans, comforted by the fact that the denim actually absorbs some of my built up sweat. I’ve become used to hospital clothes over the last year, garments that have been worn and washed so many times that they have become soft.
In the psych ward, patients weren’t allowed zippers or laces on our clothes. We could use them to hurt ourselves if we were desperate enough, I guess.
“It’s nice to be wearing jeans again.”
He looks a little surprised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Though I’m a hell of a lot skinnier than the last time I wore these pants.” I close one eye, trying to figure when that was. “I think I wore them the last time I was home. At least a year and a half ago, I’d bet.”
Aiden wrinkles his brow. We drive into the thick of the city, buildings rising around us, caging us in. I try not to think about how suffocated being around all this concrete makes me feel.
He clears his throat. “Did you call Olivia?”
Nodding, I look out the window. “I did.”
“And?”
I shrug. “She was happy to hear I was alive. And pissed that I wouldn’t let her tell Rachel anything.”
“Well… you have a plan, I guess. Though I do think that calling her and giving her a heads up or even a word letting her know you’re alive would’ve been just as good.”
Staring straight ahead, I shrug again. “We’ll see.”
He frowns and slides his gaze over to me. “You nervous about going to this charity thing?”
He’s referring to the event we are going to crash. A bunch of people from Rachel’s mother’s set — a whole different class of ladies than what I grew up around — are lunching at the Met to raise money for something.
“Fuck yes. I’m worried that Rachel won’t recognize me or something. It’s been a year since…” I cut myself off, a lump forming in my throat. I’m so fucked up over the past. Naming even this single regret out loud is too much for me.
Aiden looks me up and down. “I don’t think she would forget you, honestly.”
No. Maybe not. But she probably won’t understand when I tell her where I’ve been for the past year. In and out of psych hospitals, on and off of some really heavy meds.
How do I even begin to tell her that?
Oh god. What if she’s moved on? She has figured out how much better she can do than me, a piece of white trash that is no better than what she scrapes off her shoe?
My hands start to shake.
“What if she does forget me, though? What if—” I gulp in air. “What if she has replaced me?”
She has every right to go on with her life, even though I’m stuck in mine.
Aiden pumps the brakes and honks at the car in front of him.
“I mean… you guys dated for years. I doubt she’s suddenly a different person, Grayson.” Ever the pragmatist, Aiden is ready with a reply, locked and loaded. “But if she has replaced you, that just means you’ll come out west with me. I just got started working for the National Park Service as a park ranger. I think you would love it, honestly.”
“Mmm.” I can’t even think about his words just now. I’m buzzing with adrenaline. “Take this next right. I think the museum is right down the street.”
We pull into a lane of traffic, instantly slowing. I was right… the Met is just to our right, its gray façade looming large. We queue up with the limos that are stopping just before the Met’s grand stone steps. We are early; the lunch starts in an hour. Which leaves plenty of time for me to be here, waiting on the steps for Rachel.
Aiden sticks his head out the window.
“I think that this lane is just cars that are waiting to get to the front steps. You want to hop out?”
“Yep. You want to circle for a while?” I start to open the door.
“I live to serve,” Aiden says, his tone droll.
I freeze. Way up ahead, two people are making their way up the steps. One has hair the exact color of honey and wears a light blue dress. The other is some well-dressed sandy haired guy. For a second, I’m not sure that it’s her.
But then she pauses, looking back at the street.
Warm brown eyes, tanned skin, perfect pink lips.
It’s Rachel.
The guy grabs her, tugging her into his arms. She’s a little resistant, but when he plants a kiss on her lips, she lets him. Then he sweeps her up the stairs, disappearing through the stone archway that leads into the Met.
My heart plummets through my stomach and shatters on the floor. For a second, everything around me goes eerily silent. The only sound I can hear is the dull thud of the blood rushing in my ears.
Rachel is with someone else. My worst dream has come true.
“Oh man…” I hear Aiden whisper under his breath.
I turn to look at him. He wears the sorriest expression I’ve ever seen.
He clears his throat. “I’m sure if you just go up to her, Rachel will be glad to see you.”
I slam the car door shut, overwhelmed.
I knew it.
She did replace me.
I can’t even pretend I’m surprised, honestly. It’s probably better for her this way.
The last thing Rachel needs is someone like me darkening her doorstep.
“Just drive,” I blurt out, looking straight ahead.
“Okay…” Aiden says. “But where are we going?”
I pause, my head spinning. “Where did you say you were working again?”
“In Washington. Olympic Park, near Seattle.”
I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms. “Sounds good. That’s a good place to start.”
“Maybe you should—”
I cut him off. “Did you lose anyone while you were serving in the Navy?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
/> “Then you don’t get it. I would appreciate it if you would mind your own fucking business.”
He looks at me for a few beats, then pulls the car out into traffic. “Alright. Whatever you say, man.”
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the plush seat. “Wake me up when we get to Pennsylvania.”
Feigning sleep, I turn all my noisy emotions inward.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rachel
After three days of grueling hikes and some serious collecting of samples, I have finally accumulated so many tiny test tubes that I have to ship them back. The easiest way to do that is to go back to base camp. That way we can restock our dwindling supplies and take a much-needed break.
It will also be a relief of sorts to be around other people. Every time I see Grayson I either want to jump his bones or punch him. Honestly, the whiplash is really tiring, all in itself.
My pack is digging into my shoulder uncomfortably. I’m loaded down with all the supplies and the test tubes full of water. Who knew that I would be complaining more on the way back than the way to camp out?
Grayson turns around a bend and there is the base camp, looking like absolute heaven to me. I spy Nate on the front porch of the mess hall. He squints and then waves casually. I wave back.
“I’m going to head for my cabin,” I tell Grayson.
Grayson glances back at me and then shrugs. “Sure. For the next forty-eight hours, you and I aren’t responsible for each other. I don’t expect to see much of you.”
Then with that, he veers off away from the mess hall, back toward the ropes course. Feeling foolish, I head to my cabin. I’m tied up in knots, feeling angry at Grayson and then at the same time already feeling something missing when he’s not here. I swear, I just want to make it through the next few days unscathed and relax, but it’s not easy when I’m obsessing over Grayson.
As soon as I get to my cabin I drop my pack and head for the solar showers. I change into fresh clothing, wrinkling my nose as I pile up all my laundry.
God, I didn’t even realize how dirty I was. But I definitely do now. Doing some laundry is high up on my to do list for sure.
