Spotting the tree, Nathan’s previous suspicions about the destination of their quest were confirmed. He watched as Amara scampered up the hillside with ease, clearly having practiced her route many times before. She paused at the base of the tree, pressing her hands into the bark, and closed her eyes. Not wanting to intrude, Nathan held back until explicitly invited to join her.
After a long pause, Amara opened her eyes and waved him onward up to the outcropping. Unsteadily, Nathan heaved himself up the slope, using both of his hands to pull himself along. Clinging to an unearthed root, he hoisted himself atop the ledge and sat, panting. Amara waited for him to catch his breath before proceeding with introductions.
“Nathan, this is Henry’s tree,” Amara said directly. Her left hand rested on the trunk.
Unsure of the proper way in which to address a tree, Nathan took a moment to compose himself.
“Uh, hello, Henry’s tree,” he said slowly.
Amara gave him a soft smile that showed she at least appreciated his efforts.
“To be honest, it feels kind of strange having both of you here together,” Amara admitted. “Not strange in a bad way … just … unfamiliar. I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here. You probably think I’m nuts that I talk to a tree …” she trailed off as she lost her next thought.
“I’m glad you showed me this – him, I mean. It’s important to you, part of your history. I see that.”
Nathan took her other hand, the one not attached to the tree.
“I don’t think you’re crazy for coming down here. Everyone needs somewhere to channel their grief, a special place. You know, I didn’t realize that for a long time, but I get it now.”
Amara looked at him with round, wet eyes. “Thank you for coming with me,” she choked, emotion gripping her throat.
“Thanks for bringing me,” he said gratefully in return.
For a long while, they sat in the dirt at the base of the trunk, Amara’s hands creating a chain between Henry’s tree on the left and Nathan’s grasp on the right. He couldn’t be sure, but at one point Nathan thought he heard a subtle rustling in the wind, a voice whispering in his ear. The breeze carried a small sprig from the upper branches, wafting downward and gently coming to rest on Nathan’s head.
Amara plucked the twig from his hair, holding it out between them. She looked back and forth from the twig to Nathan before finally erupting into a wide grin. With a satisfied chuckle, she tucked the branch carefully into her jacket pocket.
When the time came for them to go, Nathan stood to face the tree one last time, sizing up the scene. He ran his fingers through the rough needles of the lowest bough, bidding his farewell, before turning to descend back down onto the rocky beach below. Nathan turned and held his hand out to Amara. Once stable on the solid rock, he pulled her in close, softly kissing her neck. She cozied readily into his embrace.
Nathan straightened up, meeting her eyes directly, and gave her a mysterious smile.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said, pulling her back along the shore by the hand.
Amara followed him closely over the rocks, curiously surprised by the dynamic shift.
Back at the head of the trail, Nathan slowed his pace, letting Amara catch up to him before exiting the tree line. Grasping her hand, he led her along the narrow shoulder of the road until they reached the gravel easement. He halted abruptly to stand in front of the short wooden cross erected at the edge of the ditch.
Amara pulled up next to him, looked down at the cross and began to laugh. Quickly checking her unnatural response, she stifled the laughter with a hand forced up over her mouth.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” she apologized quickly. “It's just … I should have known.” She managed to straighten her expression.
“Known what?” Nathan said, perplexed. “That this cross is for Cece? How would you have known that?”
Amara pressed herself to his side, hugging his arm in reassurance, fearing that she may have offended him with her presumptions. Looking down at the cross she explained, “I just mean, it’s too coincidental, isn’t it? That this is where her memorial is, less than a mile away from Henry’s tree.”
“It is rather coincidental, isn’t it?” Nathan agreed, granting her a slight grin with the corner of his mouth.
Amara silently reflected on the situation for a long while before speaking again in her most serious tone.
“Do you get the feeling that fate is trying to tell us something?”
“Because of all the similarities, you mean?”
“Yeah, I guess I just can’t help but wonder what life would have been like if we’d met earlier, before all these things happened to us. Maybe we could have avoided some of that pain. I mean, clearly the universe is trying to push us together now, don’t you think?”
Nathan fixed his gaze on the cross at his feet, reflecting on his choices.
“I don’t think it works that way,” he said, slowly. “I don’t think we, this, would have worked before.” He motioned his hand back and forth between them. “Maybe we had to go through all those things to figure out who we were supposed to be, as horrible as it was. I mean, I know that I wouldn’t be the person that I am today if I hadn’t had to raise X on my own.”
Again, Amara stopped to consider his reasoning and found only minor fault in his logic.
“It’s kind of awful though, to think that those things happened for our sake. Isn’t it? Henry and Cece died! Surely you don’t think that was supposed to happen.”
“Maybe it didn’t happen specifically for us. I would never want someone I love to die. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think those things would have happened anyway, part of the master plan or whatever. But maybe we were graced to be a part of their lives, part of their plan, to show us something. So that their lives, and their deaths, could teach us something, too.”
Nathan bent to touch the top of the wooden stake soberly.
Amara sensed his words held truth and nodded her agreement. Placing her hand on Nathan’s shoulder, she asked, “So what do we do now?”
Nathan stood himself upright, removed her hand from his shoulder, and cradled it between his two palms. He pulled her hand in to rest on his chest. With a hopeful look in his eyes, he said, “I think we just keep going.”
Acknowledgments
I want to express my deepest appreciation to all my friends and family who guided this publication process. This book would not have been possible without the support of each and every one of you. I’d like to start by thanking my friend and fellow author Alex, who continues to inspire me with his creativity and boldness. His guidance and encouragement in the earlier stages of publication gave me the confidence to finally share my words aloud. I also want to thank everyone who was involved in the reviewing process – Bryant, Madeleine, Hannah, Natalie, Allison, Megan, Joanna, and Lauren – for allowing me to beta test my ideas and reassuring me along the way. Thank you to my grandma, Lois, my mom, Chrissy, and my sister, Tanna, for lending an ear when I needed to work out a problem or felt overwhelmed with the process. Finally, I’d like to thank Maggie McReynolds and her wonderful editing team at Un-Settling Books for guiding me to shape my vision into this powerful story. My sincerest gratitude to everyone – without you this book would not exist for others to read.
About the Author
Jamie Hitchcock draws inspiration from the complexities of the social and karmic constructs around and within. With a master’s degree in Communication Sciences and Disorders, her professional background includes serving people with communication disorders in the medical and mental health field. These experiences and knowledge serve as the foundation for her narratives, which explore the boundaries between realism, mysticism, spirituality, and personal development. When she’s not writing, Jamie can be found trundling barefoot through the garden or snuggling up with a good book and her house cat, Dobby, who is aptly named for both his grayish complexion as well as his mischievous an
d loving companionship. Life After Death is her first book.
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