by Susan Hatler
“Oh!” My heart pounded in my chest as I steadied my feet. “That was close. Thanks.”
He gave me a quick squeeze. “Maybe you should take the flashlight.”
“Good idea,” I mumbled, feeling a weird mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. Our fingers brushed as he handed me the flashlight, and an electric current zipped up my arm. I half-expected the bulb inside the flashlight to explode from the jolt.
With me holding the flashlight and pointing it at the trail ahead, I managed to avoid any more roots. We hiked on in silence for awhile before I said, “This trail reminds me of a camping trip my first stepdad took us on. We had to hike up to our campground site, but hadn’t realized how far the trail was so we ended up hiking after it got dark. He told this really funny story about a magical rabbit who lived in a tree trunk. . . It was a fun vacation.” I paused, playing with my purple lock of hair, trying to focus on the fact that I was independent and survived just fine on my own. “What about you? Did you take any epic family vacations?”
He was quiet for a moment. “My parents divorced when I was nine. Up until then? Just a lot of arguing.”
The flashlight wobbled in my hand. “I’m sorry, Jason.”
“Thanks.” He gave me a small smile. “After they divorced, my mom left, and my dad focused on work. No vacations. We went on a few business trips, you know, where I got to tag along, but they weren’t vacations. My dad went to meetings and conferences, and I hung out in the hotel room or at the pool. I thought I was hot stuff.”
“I’m sure you were.” I smiled, even though my heart ached for him. In the pale circle of the flashlight I could see a myriad of emotions flickering across his face, despite the fact that he was trying to make light of the situation. “I can’t believe your mom left you,” I blurted out.
Another flicker of emotion washed over his handsome features. “Yeah, she moved out of state to pursue the life she couldn’t have with my dad and me. Free spirit and all of that.”
“Do you ever talk to her?”
He shrugged. “Phone calls a few times a year. That’s it.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, legs straining as we took a steep climb. Despite the fact that my mom had her share of issues, at least she had never abandoned me, even when times were the toughest. My stomach clenched, thinking how my stepdad had abandoned me. I knew what it felt like to love someone only to realize that love was one-sided. I wished I could think of something to say that would express my sorrow for his past hurts, but I knew the pain was something he just had to live with, like I did. “Do you have a good relationship with your dad?” I asked.
“Good enough,” he said, his facial expression relaxing. “We take in the occasional Giants game in San Francisco, and get along well. He still works a lot, but he’s always been there for me when I needed him.”
“How so?” I asked, feeling curious since I’d never had a dad around myself.
“Well . . .” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “My very first girlfriend dumped me to date my best friend, leaving me heartbroken.”
“That’s terrible! I just want to . . . dump an apple pie on her head.” I nodded, thinking of how satisfying that would feel. Not even a waste of the delicious pie.
“Thanks for having my back, but it was a long time ago.” He chuckled, making it obvious her past actions didn’t still bother him. “We were in eighth grade. At the time, we’d been liking each other, passing notes, calling each other, the whole bit, for three weeks, which felt like an eternity. After the break-up, I was devastated and skipped school.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached out and took his hand, wishing I could comfort the boy he’d been.
And also throw a pie in that girl’s face.
“The school called my dad to let him know I wasn’t in class.” He gave me a look that said this was not a good thing as we continued our hike. “My dad found me at home and asked me what happened, so I told him. I thought I’d be in so much trouble, but nope. Even though he’d had a huge meeting that day, he told me he was going to play hooky, too. Instead of getting grounded, he took me fishing.”
My heart warmed. “He did?”
“Then he told me every awful thing a girl had ever done to him. Some of it we even laughed over, which made me hope that one day I could laugh over it, too.”
“Your dad sounds very sweet and thoughtful,” I said.
“Yeah, he is. He came through for me again a few years later.”
“What happened? I mean, if it’s too personal—”
“No, it’s okay,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Remember the ex who got me to change my mind about becoming a biology teacher? He was there for me when she broke up with me. That was a hard one,” he said, with a strain in his voice.
My teeth clenched in response. Oh, yeah. I remembered her.
“The superficial one who values a lavish lifestyle over personal happiness,” I blurted, unable to believe I’d said that aloud—then again, it could’ve been a lot worse, seeing as how many negative images were rolling through my head about her. “Teaching is an admirable profession. If that was your passion then she should’ve supported you.”
Even in the darkness, I could see his jaw muscles tighten. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
“I can tell that teaching is still your passion,” I said, hurrying to get the words out before I could think about them too much. It wasn’t like me to pry, but if his dream was still to be a teacher then I thought he should pursue it. “You enjoyed teaching the kids at Founding Friendships. I saw how patiently you showed Nora how to turn off the water, even though you were getting soaked in the process. And when we were painting, you managed not only to show Nico and Nora what to do, but you also taught them how to work together. Do you ever still think of teaching?”
His facial muscles tightened. “It’s too late for that now.”
“Why is it too late? Are you eighty?”
“Thirty.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a laugh.
I opened my mouth to ask him why he thought thirty was too late, but something in the woods nearby cracked, making my heart stop.
“Probably just a squirrel,” I said, stepping closer to Jason just in case.
He laced his fingers through mine. “We should focus on the tunnels. We’ve got to be close.”
“Yeah, I suppose we should.” I noticed we’d arrived at the rocky outcropping that seemed to be the most likely place for a tunnel entrance.
He released my hand, jutting his foot out to part a bush and check beneath it. “Do you see a doorway of some kind?” he asked.
I stepped up on a large flat rock and swung the flashlight from one side to the other. A line from one of the articles flashed through my mind. “I read an article where the writer speculated that some of the miners might’ve lived in the tunnels after a fire swept through their camp.”
“They were homeless?” he asked, seeming to put the pieces together like I had. “What are the chances that the tunnels that might save the homeless housing shelter in the present had also housed homeless miners in the past?”
Chills vibrated through me. “That would be amazing. I’m not sure I believe in fate, but—”
“It couldn’t be anything else,” he finished, reading my mind.
“Pretty much!” I scrambled over a boulder, excitement swelling in me. “Let’s keep our eyes peeled for some kind of hidden door. A trap door, maybe? I don’t know. Whatever kind of door it is, it has to be hard to find since it hasn’t been detected in all these years. But, it must also have easy enough access that the miners had been able to come and go without too much hassle. I mean, assuming there really are tunnels, anyway.”
“I like the way you think,” he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he searched between giant boulders. Then he made a noise. “Wait a minute. Can I see the flashlight for a second?”
I paused in mid-climb over a fallen tree, retreating a few steps to pass the flashlight to him. “What is
it?” I asked, my heart pounding wildly.
He shined the light across a flat rock, and pointed. “That area dips between those rocks and looks . . . odd. We have to check it out.”
“Do you think the rumors are true?” I asked, realizing that, despite all of my optimistic talk, I’d only half-heartedly believed the urban legend before this moment.
“We’re about to find out.” He waved for me to follow, leading the way and taking my hand. I was touched by his chivalry and my hand was getting way too used to being in his. When we got to the spot between the boulders, I could see why the area had grabbed his attention. The rocks formed a little shelter on three sides, which looked man-made.
“Why don’t you check the ground on the other side?” Jason pointed over a boulder, setting the flashlight in the center of the area. “And I’ll look over here.”
“Agreed,” I said, jumping to the other side of the boulder.
There was just enough light from the flashlight that we could see where we were digging. Or, more accurately, where we were scraping dirt away from the rocks with metal gardening spades. We worked in silence for a long while, until my spade hit something hard like metal, making a grisly screeching sound. I gasped.
“Did you find something?” Jason hurried over to me and leaned over my shoulder. He held onto my waist and I looked over at him, his face was so close to mine that I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. Badly. Instead, he pulled me into a quick, tight hug. “This is it, Avery,” he said.
I could barely breathe, and not just because his arms were wrapped around me. This might really be it—the break that Founding Friendships needed.
“Do you really think the tunnels exist?” I asked, my pulse racing as I reached out with my gardening spade and thumped the metal panel beside me, which made a dull clanging sound.
“It could be a door,” he said, in a hushed whisper.
“We should find out.” I swallowed, every nerve in my body standing on red alert. It was like being in the middle of a real-life detective story. Amazing Avery Summers and Jason Morgan, Sexy Sidekick Extraordinaire.
At that moment a stick snapped on the path behind us, and we both froze.
“Stop whatever you’re doing, and come out where we can see you,” a firm voice called.
A thin beam from a flashlight flickered over our heads, and my heart began to pound double time in my chest. What the . . .?
Jason slipped the gardening tools into his bag and then reached for my hand. “Just follow my lead.”
We turned quickly, and looked down the path where two police officers were standing. One was big and broad, the other short and skinny. The skinny one had a hand on his baton.
I barely stifled my gasp. Was he planning to use that thing?
“Good evening, officers. Is there a problem?” Jason asked, using an ultra respectful voice.
“This park closes at sundown,” the bigger officer said. “And wandering off the path is forbidden. Rules are posted at the trailhead, son.”
Son? Really? The guy didn’t look forty. Not exactly old enough to be either of our dads.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Jason said, kicking the ground as if he were a shy and bashful guy, which he so wasn’t. Hello, red Ferrari? “My girlfriend and I were taking a moonlit walk. I guess we kind of got off the path.” A likely story, but he seemed committed to it. He even sounded sincere.
In the dim beam of their flashlights, I saw the officers nudge one another, and it hit me what they thought we were doing—and what Jason didn’t mind them thinking we were doing. I guessed it was better than thinking we were here to burgle the hidden tunnels.
Though it didn’t mean I wasn’t painfully embarrassed. I was grateful that the darkness hid the blush that was heating up my neck.
“You know what people generally come out here to do after dark, don’t you?” the skinny officer asked in a knowing tone.
Jason’s hand tightened around mine, and I couldn’t figure out if he was squeezing as an involuntary reaction to embarrassment or if he was trying to ask me to keep quiet.
“They come out to find a plethora of squirrels?” Jason asked, his tone steady.
I pressed my face into his arm to keep from laughing aloud. When I peeked back around, the two officers were exchanging looks that I couldn’t decipher, but their postures told me that they weren’t happy with us. Uh, oh. Would they seriously give us a ticket?
After a tense moment, the skinny officer released his hold on the baton. “Time to head out of the park, kids. You never know who you’ll run into out here.”
Kids? Oh, please. The skinny guy looked even younger than the other cop.
“Yes, Officer.” Jason nodded, giving me a look that said we were so taking off now. “We’ll be on our way. Thank you.”
“Thanks.” I barely glanced at the cops again, because I didn’t trust myself not to say something lame as Jason led me past the officers and down the trail. We didn’t say anything as we hurried along the path at a light jog until we got back to his car where we both collapsed against the hood. Trying to catch my breath, I turned to Jason, who looked back at me, and then we both began laughing hysterically.
“A plethora of squirrels?” I managed to ask once I caught my breath. Then I put a hand to my chest, erupting in a fit of giggles that made my stomach muscles hurt. I couldn’t help it. Images of hordes of squirrels kept going through my head, each one staring at me with its bushy tail pointed up and its head tilted to the side. “How did you come up with squirrels?”
“I’m a quick thinker.” His chest shook as he laughed and it seemed like my reaction was what he found so hysterical. I watched him fight to maintain some sort of control, only for the laughter to come back. Mine, as well.
I wiped tears from my eyes. It was a good feeling, this soul-cleansing laughter. I hadn’t laughed like this in a long time—too much pressure, too many things going wrong, one after the other. He’d lifted all of my problems off my shoulders with one plethora of squirrels.
He’d done a lot of things I never would’ve expected when we first met. Jason seemed to be chock-full of pleasant surprises that I was quickly growing attached to . . . and it wasn’t like me to get attached to anyone so easily.
He cast a look up the path. “I guess that ends our search for tonight.”
“I guess so . . .” His comment brought me back to our goal, which promptly ended my chuckles. I was still itching to find those tunnels. Now that we’d found the door, or what appeared to be a door, I felt like this could be the answer Founding Friendships needed.
The seriousness I suddenly felt was about even more than that, though. My cheeks heated as my gaze met Jason’s. Thank goodness for the darkness or he would’ve seen it written all over my face . . . and he would’ve known how I wished he and I could get lost off that path, hand-in-hand, giving those cops a real reason to write us a ticket.
Chapter Eleven
“Did you really just do that, Avery?” Melinda snorted, snapping me out of the daze I hadn’t realized I’d been in.
I blinked rapidly. “Hmm? Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.”
“I’ll say,” she said, snickering. “You just drew a smiley face in glaze on that last cinnamon roll, which you’ve never come close to doing in the whole time I’ve known you. What’s going on? Tell me.”
“What do you mean . . .?” I looked down at the cinnamon roll, horrified that I might’ve revealed my thoughts about Jason. Oh, yes. I had. The evidence appeared before me in a white sugary glaze, already melting and oozing into the layers. “Oh, I, uh . . .”
Nice defense, Avery. Why didn’t I just blurt out that I’d been daydreaming about her cousin and our moonlit detective work in the park last night? But, I couldn’t tell her that. My feelings for Jason felt like a gooey mess just like this cinnamon roll. Sigh.
“You’re also distant this morning,” she observed, switching one tray of fresh-baked scones for another. She closed he
r eyes and inhaled the aroma of warm blueberries and then smacked her lips together.
“I’m sorry,” I said, admiring how she still held a zest for her chosen profession, even after buying the bakery and knowing the constant work it took to keep the place running well.
It didn’t take a huge stretch of the imagination to picture a person walking wide-eyed into an endeavor like this one only to become disillusioned when they discovered that owning a business was a lot of work. But, not Melinda—and not me, either, which helped the two of us to get along perfectly.
“Don’t be sorry, Avery.” She let out a little laugh. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, with the smiley face and all. You just seem . . . distracted. That’s all.”
“Distracted?” I echoed as I tried in vain to remember what she’d been talking about as I’d painted those happy faces from remembering how amazing it had felt holding hands with Jason through the park.
“Is it all of my wedding talk?” Melinda moved the warm scones to a cooling rack before placing a fresh sheet of parchment on the tray. “I know you’re not keen on marriage. I’m sorry if all of my rambling about the wedding details has been too much.”
“No, no! Not at all.” My heart sank. Melinda had no idea how much she’d done for me—giving me a place to live, for one, not that she knew about that yet—and the last thing I wanted was for her to feel like I was tired of hearing her excitement. “I’m thrilled for you and Nate. You’re perfect for each other. I’d never begrudge you happy chatter about your upcoming wedding just because marriage isn’t in the cards for me.”
Suddenly, an image of Jason and me holding hands and facing each other in the park popped into my head. This time, though, he was wearing a suit and I was wearing a simple white dress. We kissed, laughed, and then ran to jump into his red Ferrari. As we zoomed away from the small crowd, a banner on the back of his car flapped in the wind, announcing “Just Married.”
My eyes flared. Oh, no! What had happened to me? I chewed my lip, wondering if I should tell her what I’d just been thinking. Maybe she could help me sort this all out. But Jason was her cousin, which made things weird for me. And he clearly wasn’t right for me—all of that money and all those connections he must have, whereas I woke up every morning before dawn with smudged flour on my face, so I could push addictive baked goods onto an avid following.
