It was strange how much I already felt like family. Momma Von had taken me in first, but over time so had everyone else. Yvette and I hung out and talked nearly every day, and even Ron had stopped by one afternoon to have a drink with me on the front porch while Anderson cleaned out the rain gutters. Of course Ron didn’t say a single word the entire time he was there, but it was nice to have his presence while I sketched.
How fascinating that a place so unfamiliar could feel like home in such a short amount of time. I wondered if the location even had anything to do with it at all.
“I’m glad you came,” I said to Anderson, picking up my pace so I could catch him.
I didn’t want to bother him, but I did want him to know I was there if he needed me. He slowed when I spoke, just a little, enough to walk beside me where there was room. When the path narrowed, he either fell behind to let me go first or helped me up, finding his place beside me right after.
“Are you feeling better?”
He nodded, a hard line between his eyebrows and mouth flat. He didn’t look very well, eyes rimmed with dark rings that told me he hadn’t been sleeping much, but I kept to our deal.
“Good. I was worried I’d have to rush you to that little shack by the grocery store. That’s the ER, right?”
It was a terrible joke, and Anderson’s fake smile didn’t come close to reaching his eyes before it dropped again.
“I was thinking about busting open that bottle of wine I picked up when Momma Von and I were in the city the other day. It’s supposed to be cool tonight, too—might jump in the hot tub. You want to join?”
The muscle under his jaw flexed and he let me move in front of him for a narrow climb of rocks. When we got to the top, he started to answer, but Momma Von stopped him short.
“Wren! Get up here! Give me your phone, there’s a perfect shot of the mountains through this clearing.” She waved me forward and Anderson moved past me, not answering my invitation. He walked straight past Momma Von and Sarah, effectively becoming the new leader.
I just frowned.
“Come on, peaches, give me your phone. Don’t worry about your hair or whatever it is that’s making you hesitate, you look beautiful.” She winked, hand still outstretched and I offered a soft smile in return, handing her my phone. She posed me in an opening that had a clear view of the lush green mountains and only let me go after she’d snapped at least twenty photos. By that time we were the new caboose, and the insecurity cloud was pelting me with rain again.
It took us just under an hour to make it all the way to the top of the hike. It was marked with a simple outdoor bathroom, a plaque that detailed the origin of lookout tower, and of course, the tower itself. It was tall, at least ten flights of stairs leading up to the top of it, and I squinted with one hand shielding my face as I took it all in.
“Pretty awesome, huh?” Tucker asked, sidling up beside me. Davie, Yvette, and Benjamin were already unpacking snacks and laying out a picnic while Momma Von and Ron cracked open a tall boy he’d packed in his bag. Sarah was on her phone, and Anderson was reading the plaque—or just staring at it.
Tucker dropped his backpack to the ground near his feet and wiped a hand over his forehead and back through his damp hair. He wore a light blue tank top and his pretty boy smile, eyes bright as they waited for me to respond.
“It is. I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow,” I added with a chuckle.
He grinned, too, reaching into the side pocket of his bag to pull a large Thermos loose. “Water?”
He tilted it toward me and I took it graciously, guzzling nearly half of it before handing it back to him. He just watched me the entire time, taking his own drink as soon as the Thermos was back in his hand.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, tucking it back in his pack and letting his eyes follow where mine were focused on the view of the mountains ahead of us.
“You busy tomorrow night?” he asked after a moment. “I was thinking we could go into town to that diner I was telling you about, if you’re up for it.”
I squinted up at him, wishing I’d packed sunglasses but smiling nonetheless. “Oh yeah, we still need to do that, huh?”
“Indeed we do,” he agreed, but his smile slipped as a shadow fell over both of us.
Anderson still wore a tight scowl, his presence like a strong gust of ice cold wind, but his hand was warm when it reached forward to grab mine. He didn’t look at Tucker once, didn’t apologize for interrupting, just stared directly at me—into my eyes, into my soul.
“Come with me.”
He’d asked for permission, though his voice was sure and steady as if it’d been a command. I nodded, offering Tucker an apologizing smile as Anderson pulled me away. He led me toward the tower, and an older couple smiled at us as they reached the bottom stair. We pulled to the side, letting them pass, and then Anderson touched the small of my back, guiding me up.
He didn’t say a word as we climbed, and every time I was sure we had reached the top, we turned to find more stairs waiting. I was completely out of breath, calves even more on fire than before, my breaths coming hard and loud from my lips. But when we finally climbed the last stair and made it to the top of the tower, complaining was the last thing on my mind once I looked up.
It was breathtaking.
There were no better words to describe it. Quite literally, my breath was stolen by the sight of the rolling mountains, green and fresh, by the river running, strong yet fluid. From the top of the tower, I could see everything—it was a complete three-sixty view of the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Eagles soared in the distance, a slight breeze rolled up over the hiking trail and up through my hair, and a spark of chills covered my arms. I couldn’t speak, just walked slowly forward until my arms rested on the wooden railing. I was tempted to reach for my phone to take photos, but I knew I couldn’t capture what it felt like to stand at the top of Haybrook Lookout Tower. It would have been impossible, so I just tried to live in the moment, instead.
The mountains we’d just climbed, the ones closest to us, were lush with summery green trees. The mountains that lay behind them were clouded in a light fog, shaded by the sun and clouds as they moved together over the scenery. At the very tops of the highest ones, faint patches of snow still clung as tightly as they could, trying to withstand the warmth of July. The day after tomorrow would be the fourth, Independence Day, and I’d never felt so connected to that holiday as I did in that very moment.
Anderson stood behind me, and though I felt him there it was only faintly. It was as if he knew that I needed a moment to myself, so he stayed back, and my eyes scanned the vast wilderness before us.
It’s difficult to explain what happened to me on top of that tower.
I felt the sun’s warmth sink into my shoulders, heard the quiet whisper of my breath as it left my chest, smelled the fresh pine riding on every wave of the wind. It was sensory overload, and before I could stop it, tears welled in my eyes and fell silently down my cheeks, dropping with a pat against my sneakers.
I felt free.
Free from the pain I’d inflicted on myself, free from the judgment of others, free from the inexhaustible expectations of my ex-husband. I didn’t know how long my life would be, or who I would touch while I walked this Earth, but I did know I had spent way too much time living a life that didn’t make me happy—not truly, not in the way where happiness flowed through and out of me.