by Toni Draper
The comfort she’d felt from the very start was still there. All she had to do was remove the layers she’d put in place that separated them.
As promised, dinner did not disappoint. Isa didn’t expect it would after finding all kinds of goodies in the gourmet space while putting food away and cleaning up the kitchen. Pullout drawers with ingredients that would have made the Spice Girls envious to a seemingly bottomless pantry and a freezer filled with enough contents to put any Top Chef contestant in the finals.
Fireside that evening, sitting in the cool outdoors by the chiminea after their food had finally settled into a cramped space, Mena found herself listening to a conversation Sydney and Isa were having and wondered why it seemed like no time had passed since she and Sydney had been together. It all seemed so relaxed and easy, like the clock had stopped the moment she had walked out on that cold February day. Is it because Isa is here? The real test would come when she and Sydney were alone for an extended period, face to face.
Sydney interrupted Mena’s thoughts by asking, “Would you like to see what I’m working on these days?” Without waiting for a response, she slid the first few chapters of a fledgling manuscript toward her across the table.
Mena scooted closer and began reading.
When she’d finished, Mena handed the pages back to Sydney and shook her head with a smile. “I guess some things never change.”
Mena looked at Sydney to see her eyebrows raised and arched.
“Go back and look at what you, yourself, have written. You have the wrong two characters headed toward a relationship. Again. Remember the last time you asked my opinion on your writing? It should be Cyndi and Nena, not Nena and whoever that guy is. By the way, just where did you get those names from, anyway?”
Sydney returned her grin.
And that’s when and how it all began, their writing together again.
It was Christmas Eve, Mena’s favorite day of the year. Since she’d been a child, it was always the day of her biggest celebration. Religious significance aside, by Christmas Day, the exuberance of the secular holiday seemed significantly shallow in comparison. All the excitement, the buildup, reached its crescendo on the twenty-fourth. As they sat around the tree, engaged in reminiscing about holidays past and sharing stories about favorite foods and family traditions, Sydney surprised them each with a gift.
“It’s not much, but I wanted to show my gratitude for your friendship.”
Isa didn’t hesitate when given the go-ahead to be the first to open her present, and exclaimed, “Oh my God! These are wonderful. You are amazing. Thank you so much.”
“I saw you admiring them the other day and got the impression they might be a little out of the price range for a struggling student, so you helped a clueless Santa out. Thank you.”
Isa popped in the AirPods and stood to hug Sydney.
After settling back into the sofa, she turned toward Mena, who was just about to unwrap her box, when Isa startled them by nearly screaming, “Wait! This moment calls for some music, and I’ve got just the song. I brought it along.” She hurried off to her room and quickly returned. “It’s not a traditional carol or holiday tune, but it’s a classic contemporary and one of my favorites,” she prepped them before Celine Dion’s “Don’t Save it All for Christmas Day” played. “Appropriate, wouldn’t you say?” By all appearances, she was quite pleased with herself.
“Now can I open my present?” Mena teased.
Isa laughed. “Sure, go ahead, what are you waiting for?”
Mena looked first at her, then at Sydney, before slowly and agonizingly removing the beautiful foil wrapping from the square box in her hand. With the ribbon undone, she lifted the lid and looked inside. There, atop a protective pillow of cotton, rested a small, circular, gold medallion with an exquisitely rendered image of the Patron Saint of Firefighters engraved in its center and the prayer Saint Florian Protect Us etched around its perimeter.
Her heart flooded. “It’s perfect, Sydney. I love it. Thank you.” She risked a glance at the giver before lifting it out of the box for a closer look and passing it to Isa. Not realizing the box wasn’t yet empty, she set it aside with the discarded wrapping.
“Don’t you know you should always look under the filler?” Sydney hinted with a smile directed Mena’s way.
With a curious quirk to her mouth and expression in her eyes, Mena reached for the box and removed the fluffy contents the medal rested upon. Her heart expanded trifold when there within she found the gold chain both she and Sydney had worn.
“It belongs to you, Mena. I gave it to you with all my heart. Please keep it this time.”
Mena struggled with heavy emotion as Isa rose from her place and removed both pieces of jewelry from the box. Carefully threading the necklace’s links through the bail, she draped the chain over Mena’s neck and securely fastened it in place.
“Oh!” Sydney’s cry startled them both. “I almost forgot.” She left the room and quickly returned with what looked like a few cards. She handed them each one.
While Mena chose to read hers in silence, Isa read hers aloud.
“Oh, Almighty God, whose great power
and eternal wisdom embraces the universe,
watch over all firefighters.
Protect them from harm in the
performance of their duty to fight fire,
save lives, and preserve property.
We pray, help them to keep our homes and
all buildings safe day and night.
We recommend them to Your loving care
because their duty is dangerous.
Grant them Your unending strength and
courage in their daily assignments.
Dear God, protect these brave persons.
Grant them Your almighty protection and
unite them safely with their families after
duty has ended.
Amen.”
“It’s the Firefighter’s Prayer to St. Florian,” Sydney explained. “I wanted you each to have one. Someday, I’d like to show you both the lovely chapel where I found them.”
“I think I can speak for both of us,” Isa shared with a smile. “We’d love to see what so inspires you, to know that part of you. As friends, and because we love you, what’s important to you is important to us.”
Everything was going so well that they decided to throw together an impromptu get-together for New Year’s Eve and were surprised at the number of people who said they’d be happy to come. Though the crew was used to roughing it, it helped that there were cabins available in the Red Rock Ranger District, and that Alex had offered up her B and B. It wasn’t hard to entice visitors to Sedona. It was a place everyone wanted to visit, given a reason and opportunity. Since Christmas gatherings with extended families were over, it was perfect.
Sydney, of course, was ecstatically in her culinary element. The spread was no less than delectably divine, as was the bubbly Dom Perignon and proffered wine. The first round had trays filled with baked cranberry brie, smoked salmon dip, and guacamole deviled eggs circulating throughout the house. Round two consisted of mouthwatering offerings of spinach puffs, chicken bacon ranch pinwheels, three-bite tacos with avocado cream, and honey garlic meatballs.
One thing was for sure: no one here would ring in the New Year on an empty stomach.
Small groups and pairs scattered inside and out. Judging by the laughter and looks on their faces, all seemed to be having a great time. Joe and Traci were there, as was Mike Davila. Most of the fire crew—Gonzalez, Selitto, Larsen, and Castillo—had shown up with dates or spouses. Even Alex made an appearance, though she couldn’t stay for the ball drop. All were happy to see Mena again, some more than a little curious to know her connection to the hostess and owner of such a grand house.
By two in the morning, those who were leaving ha
d already gone, while a few guests, who’d no doubt be ushering in the first day of the year nursing gargantuan hangovers, insisted on staying to help with clean-up and to partake of the promised morning mimosas. But when even Isa, who’d left with Mike to catch a flight to Vegas where she’d promised to meet up with her family for a late celebration of the holidays had gone, Sydney and Mena finally found themselves alone together for the first time.
Without words, they joined hands and hearts and mustered up enough energy to slow dance to, of all things, a Lady Gaga song, and they spent the remainder of the week holding each other and making up for lost time with “Always Remember Us This Way” on a loving repeat.
Chapter 18
By the time March rolled around and Mena had another school break, she and Isa again packed their bags and prepared to head north. This time, they hoped to get a little camping and kayaking in before the scorch of summer and subsequent fire season demanded they return to work.
Although she and Sydney had seen each other a few times since January, they had vowed to take it slower this time. To say Mena was surprised when Sydney expressed an interest in joining them would have been an understatement of a colossal size.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d want to come along, Syd. We only have two kayaks.”
“Oh. I guess I don’t know how this works. No worries, I’ll go next time.” She put on a good front, but disappointment rang loud and clear in the timbre of her voice.
“That’s not necessary. I’m sure we can rent a tandem someplace.” Mena looked at Isa, who immediately pulled out her phone and began searching. After finding and securing one that was at a place on their way, Sydney packed lunches consisting of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some pretzels, cookies, fruit, and water. Their camping gear was already stowed, and they’d stop for more provisions and ice for the Yeti somewhere on the road.
“Does everyone have a hat and jacket?” Mena asked. “Better safe and warm than sorry and cold.” She checked to make sure the boats were secure one last time before the trio pulled away and out the gate.
They’d decided to put in at the Beasley Flat Access Point on the Verde River, which they’d been promised offered both rapids and flat water paddling with ledge drops and walled turns divided by calm waters, replete with opportunities for rest and relaxation. Mena’d been told the locals call it The Dirty Verde, but she’d never found a sandy or muddy body of water to detract from the natural beauty of a place. To each their own, she thought.
By the time they reached their destination, what few clouds had been in the sky had given way to the promise of a beautiful day. Mena passed out the life vests, put hers on, and stretched upward to untie the kayaks before reminding them, “Don’t forget your hats and jackets and sunscreen, or whatever else you think you might want or need.”
With the two-seater down from the roof, Mena and Isa carried it to the water’s edge. As Isa went back for hers, Mena asked Sydney, “Front or back?” Not that she was going to give her a choice; she just wanted to hear what she’d say.
“Well, if I get to choose, I suppose sitting in the front would offer the best view.”
Mena nodded, all the while knowing that’s where she’d put her no matter what she’d said. The experienced and stronger paddler always sat in the back, taking on the role of the helmsman. Sydney was much better suited as the scenery lookout.
Before they pushed out, she reminded Sydney they needed to be in sync while paddling, in unison, with their oars in the water on the same alternating side. Unsure she understood, Mena said, “Don’t worry. Just paddle on the left, then on the right. Where you lead, I shall follow. The goal is to not clash and struggle against one another.” Hmm, that sounds familiar.
Once they were afloat, Mena leaned forward to better hear what she thought Sydney was saying. “This is so much better than a canoe. It seems less likely to tip over, and it’s much nicer not to have to lift the oar up out of the water and across the boat from side to side.”
“You mean this isn’t your first time out in a boat?” Mena thought back to their island adventures and Sydney’s self-professed manic fear of drowning.
“Well, I haven’t actually ever been in a canoe, but I have placed others there in my writing. In my mind, it’s almost the same,” she laughed.
They explored the river for the better part of three hours, steering clear of the rapids, since it was Sydney’s first time. Afterward, they headed for shore to grab a bite to eat before continuing the day’s journey.
“I don’t know about you two,” Isa said as she tore into one of the brown paper sacks that held their food, “but I’m starving.”
“Slow down, girl!” Mena laughed. “Don’t worry. Remember, Sydney made extras.”
“Oh, yeah.” She immediately reached into the basket and grabbed another one.
Mena shook her head with a smile on her face. “Comelona,” she called her playfully.
As they devoured their bag lunches, they enjoyed the peace, quiet, and surrounding scenery. Mena checked the time, wanting to reach their final destination before it got too late, and packed things up while Isa and Sydney sat a little longer, leaning back into the warmth of the sun.
The second part of their adventure would take them to Manzanita at Oak Creek. The campground itself was about an hour away from where they were now and another hour from where they’d be headed in the morning.
From the driver’s seat, Mena shook her head again in disbelief. “Sydney, I still can’t believe you’ve fallen so far from your accustomed four-star, luxury room service providing accommodations to tent camping, not even bridging the gap with an RV. What happened?”
“Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow.” She turned her head to wink at Isa, who she’d thanked more than four months earlier for sharing Mena’s written story and how she’d felt about giving up all that she loved.
As soon as they reached their site, Mena showed them both how to lay the tent out on the ground, assemble the poles, and drive the stakes. Although they weren’t expecting any rain, she even had Isa help her dig a small trench around the perimeter of the canvas floor to help keep water out and them dry, just in case there’d been a meteorological mistake.
Having accomplished that goal, Mena realized they’d lost a camper somewhere along the way: Sydney. Where did she go? Mena wondered, yet she continued preparing their sleeping quarters for the night to come, saving for later her lectures regarding the importance of keeping their sleeping bags rolled until it was time to climb inside and ensure the zippered door flap was always completely closed.
Fait accompli. When they’d finished setting up, Mena and Isa walked the surrounding area, where they stumbled upon a lounging Sydney, her nose stuck deep in a book.
“Shouldn’t you be writing, not reading?” Mena admonished her jokingly.
Sydney smiled.
They insisted she put the book down and join them for a sunset hike and some wildflower hunting. “It’s my turn to dole out some laminated cards,” Mena shared as she gave one to Sydney and another to Isa.
“Wow!” Isa exclaimed. “These are beautiful. At least, in pictures.”
Mena nodded in agreement before challenging, “Let’s see who can find the most. But don’t pick them, just call for buddy verification. Better yet, pic them.” She held up her camera. “Always treat nature responsibly and respectfully.”
They started off in different directions, but before they got too far, Mena called out a cautionary reminder, “And don’t forget to mark your trail. We don’t need anyone getting lost out here today.”
Looking down at the card she held in her hands, Sydney commented to Isa, “Unfortunately, it looks like not all of them will be in bloom yet. It’s too early. But according to this, we might find some larkspur and lupine. Columbine, however, won’t likely make an appearance for another couple of weeks.”
“Yes, we will. I’ve already decided that monkshood is my personal favorite, and we won’t find that botanical beauty until June or much later.”
That evening, when the stars came out, they roasted marshmallows on sticks and made s’mores. After they’d stuffed themselves with sweetness, Mena incessantly rechecked and doused the fire with water to the top of the metal ring, only then deeming it safe. She wasn’t, however, so sure about their sleeping arrangements. She’d intentionally worked it so she’d be the last one in the tent, letting Sydney and Isa decide who’d spend the night where. When she finally worked up the courage to unzip the flap, she found she would be sleeping in the middle. This should be interesting and fun, she thought. It really wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Each woman stayed in her own space, no doubt exhausted from the day’s activities, allowing Mena to relax and sleep peacefully.
On their last planned day at Sydney’s cabin, Mena, as usual, was the first one up and around. Sydney had preprogrammed the coffee maker the night before, so Mena was happy to find a fresh pot waiting. She turned some music on low, so it wouldn’t bother the others, and stood looking out the window as Adele sang “Set Fire to the Rain.”
She was surprised when Sydney’s voice interrupted the singing from behind her.
“You know you can, right?”
Mena looked over her shoulder before pouring herself another cup. With a gesture, she asked Sydney if she wanted one.
She nodded and whispered, “Please.”
“I know I can…what?” Mena turned to face Sydney and handed her the coffee.
“Stay here forever.”
Mena looked at her questioningly.
“I know this song.”
Mena looked at her again, just in time to see a single, solitary tear leave a track down her face.
They had a little time alone before Isa woke up, and they used it to talk about what a life together for them might look like. How it would have to be different if they were to try. They both knew they could never again have what once was. That time of their life, that magic, was gone. But undeniably, the love was still there. It had survived, and it was strong, maybe stronger than ever. They agreed they both needed more time.