On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5)

by Riordan Hall, Deirdre

  “Sounds important, fancy even.”

  “It pays the bills,” he said dismissively as if the conversation they’d been having was far more compelling than legalese. “You’ve told me what you’ve been doing. The million dollar question, what do you want to do? I know Anne’s been on you about it. But I haven’t heard her ask you.”

  Baskia couldn’t contain the smile that stretched wide across her face. “For one, I’m going to continue to ride this modeling thing while I can. But I also love food and photography, so maybe I can translate that into something viable. Next fall, you’ll see me on the class roster at Columbia. Mostly, I’m going to see where life takes me. Maybe I’ll study health and nutrition, or photography and design. Perhaps both.”

  “I suppose there’s no rush to choose. I know that if your mother were to do it all over again, she’d have stuck with her career. It made her happy. I think it still could. Although it seems like she puts herself first, I believe she wants to see you and Will settled and secure before she returns to her own interests.”

  Just then, Anne crept into the room. Tears stained her face. She sat on the couch, between her husband and daughter, and pulled them into a hug.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  For the next thirty-six hours, Anne, William, and Baskia spent an unprecedented amount of time together, talking and knitting; Anne hadn’t tried in twenty-five years, but picked it right back up. They walked the trails behind the cabin and even visited Maisy. Baskia showed them the life she’d created and realized she’d figured out who she was apart from the shroud of familial expectations. With the sound of her father whistling, and Pepper trotting by her mother’s side, she knew they rather liked that little slice of country life too, so long as they could wash the mud from their boots and return to the City.

  On Monday afternoon, after admiring Baskia’s blog and photography, they all pitched in to prepare the barbecue as Mary, Daniella, Wes, and Patty arrived. The dread Baskia had carried the days leading up to that weekend dissipated as the sun shone on her face; at the sound of Anne and Mary’s laughter over a book they’d both read, and the smell of the charcoal grill. She looked at those surrounding her, at her biological family and chosen family, wishing her brother and Mellie were there, praying Maisy would wake up, and hopeful for London’s recovery.

  She plucked a daisy from the planter on the deck, studying its simple beauty. A desire, as soft and small as one of the flower’s petals, rose up in her. She longed for Trace to be there too, he was the missing piece. “He loves, me he loves me not…” she started, counting the petals.

  After strawberry shortcake for dessert, her mother pulled her aside. They walked down to the lake, Pepper at their heels. “I always hoped this cabin would be a special place for our family. Now it is. You get credit for that.” A rare smile of approval and gratitude blossomed across her face. “For a long time I didn’t understand what you were doing. I was afraid it was going to amount to nothing. But some of the things we do aren’t quantifiable by money or prestige. I’m proud of you, and I respect you too.” She wrapped her arms around her daughter, in a rare show of affection.

  “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to me.”

  “I’ll be a better listener from now on. I understand your father has spent all this time listening, letting me do the talking. I suppose we should go for middle ground.” She paused, gazing out at the still lake. A bird swooped toward the water and then took flight again. “For a long time, I thought that I had failed, walked away from my career. That translated into me being afraid you’d fail too. But you’ve succeeded in so many ways.”

  “You didn’t fail, Mom. I’d say Will and I turned out okay. But you can’t live vicariously through us or in dad’s shadow.”

  She laughed, petting Pepper who sat between them on the dock. “I suppose so. There were a few bumps in the road.”

  “There always are.”

  They chatted easily for a few more minutes, Anne offering Baskia use of the penthouse while she was at Columbia. She mentioned there’d be more room for Pepper, and she could have a rooftop garden, as long as she promised no parties. Baskia gladly obliged.

  That evening, she lingered in the stone driveway, long after her parents had pulled away. She was sad to see them go.

  Turning back to the house, she finished cleaning up, still feeling as if somehow, her mom and dad, Patty and Mary, Wes and Daniella were still with her. Perhaps they always would be. And then there was Trace. She opened her journal, reading his lines of promise. It was time to let go. He wasn’t coming. Across the top of a new page, she wrote:

  What Tracey Wolfe taught me without meaning to:

  1. Patience.

  2. Coffee, eggs, and lasagna tastes better when someone else makes it, but I can find my way around the kitchen just fine now, thank you very much.

  3. Laughter from the belly is the best kind.

  4. I’m sexy.

  5. I’m part of something greater than myself, part of someone else, but always very much me.

  6. It’s important to get in good and deep in conversation with myself about important things like what I want.

  7. Tattoos are hot.

  8. We humans are never one-dimensional. There are layers and layers. (Kind of like an onion.)

  9. I’m lucky.

  10. There’s someone in the world that I love.

  ^^^

  As spring gave way to summer with longer days, greener grass, and blossoming flowers, Baskia had a funny thought while helping the very-pregnant Daniella with some stretches out in the yard. “You know that saying, the grass is greener on the other side. I think it’s all just grass, wherever you go, and it’s only greener where you water it.”

  “Very wise, but I don’t think I’m going to be getting up off this grass anytime soon. Please, help me up,” she said, struggling on hands and knees.

  She laughed. “Of course. Only if you give me a hand with one of my latest projects. I promise, it’s delicious.”

  “I will, but first tell me why you look like the midpoint of a rom-com: a bit sad, a bit dazed.”

  “Romance yes, comedy, not so much. It isn’t easy letting go, but I have to.” She disappeared into the cabin, not inviting Daniella to ask about her and Trace.

  On the back deck, Daniella helped Baskia devour a plate of crispy veggie tostadas, after they’d photographed them. “You’re seriously the best cook.”

  “You can thank Patty for that. But you’ll soon be the best baker. I’m so glad she decided to open Patty Cakes Bakery.”

  “And I’m glad I don’t have to work at the market anymore. Although, all that pie might be dangerous.”

  They chatted a bit longer, a typical afternoon for Baskia as she counted down the days before her return to Manhattan. She savored the remaining time spent with Wes, Patty, Mary, and Maisy as well as relishing time alone and on long walks with Pepper, who was now the healthiest and happiest of dogs. She stopped herself from wondering how things were going to be different when she returned to the City, wrangling her attention back to the present moment.

  The night before the Fourth of July, Baskia lounged on the couch, publishing a roundup of red-white-and blue inspired dishes on her blog when Pepper growled from his place beside her.

  “What is it bud?” she asked, scratching his ears.

  Headlights flashed through the windows and Baskia got to her feet, Pepper leading the way with a bark. She peered out the window, soothingly petting her dog.

  A familiar figure came around the driver’s side of the SUV and up the front porch. She hushed Pepper and opened the door.

  Resentment burned up from her belly to her throat. She was ready to tell him to go back to wherever he came from, and that she wasn’t just waiting around for him to show up. Six months was too long. Before the words could slip out of her mouth, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. The scent of sunshine and miles was on his skin. He leaned into her. The strength and confiden
ce she’d gained in her nine months of solitude, helped hold him up.

  “I missed you so much,” he said with a muffled voice. “I’m so sorry.” He sniffed.

  She thought maybe he cried a little, but he didn’t let her go, perhaps afraid that if he did, something would separate them again.

  “Where have you been? Why haven’t you called?” she asked.

  He took her hand and led her toward the passenger side of the SUV. “This is why.” They peered in at a small version of Trace, with blond hair and a tiny grin plastered on his face, even as he slept. “I wanted to tell you. I didn’t know how. And so much has happened. I want you to know everything, once I get him inside. If that’s okay?”

  Trace carried his sleeping son into the cabin, settling him on the bunk downstairs. He padded into the living room, the same exhaustion written in his eyes as when he’d first appeared there. But the heaviness in his shoulders, the weight he’d carried, seemed to have lifted. He stood taller.

  Baskia sat on the couch, Pepper resting at her feet.

  “I see you replaced me,” he said.

  “Ha ha. This is Pepper. I found him in the woods, lost and starving.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s how you found me too.” Trace rubbed Pepper behind the ears.

  “I think you found me actually. So…”

  “So,” Trace said cautiously. “Where do I start? I want to get a few things clear between us.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Baskia said with a bite in her voice.

  Trace looked into her eyes. “I love you.”

  Those three words made the room spin, but she stood still, rooted from the center, as if the L-O-V- and-E fluttered and swirled around her, tickling her ears, teasing her, caressing her heart, and yet, part of her demanded more than that as an explanation.

  “I never stop thinking about you. But I want to do this thing with you right. When we met, I can’t explain it. I felt something for you I’d never experienced in my life, like I wanted you all to myself and yet would gladly announce to the world how crazy I was about you. I wanted it to unfold naturally, instead of just explode in a flash of alcohol and then end up in disaster. I had to get my shit together before I could be with you. And doing that the last six months has been the most difficult challenge of my life.”

  “Funny, I think they’ve been some of the best of my life,” she said, questioning his sincerity.

  “Wait, please listen. I’m not giving you a line of crap. When we had sex, I freaked out, hard. I had unprotected sex once, before, when I was drunk, at a party. The girl, she showed up at my dorm, nine months later, about to have a baby.”

  “Oh.”

  “That night, that one mistake, resulted in the biggest challenge I think I’ll ever face and also the greatest blessing. It’s been a year and a half. Jonah is the coolest kid. He’s smart and funny. I really want you to get to know him. But you see, first I have to know, are you and I? Can we be?” He looked at the basket of books as if the right words would materialize from their pages. “Will you be with me Baskia? Because I never want to be apart from you, not for six months, or six weeks, or even six days.” Trace had tears in his eyes and any hint of amusement was absent from his lips.

  Baskia felt the breath leave her. For once, she had no words. She pressed her lips to Trace’s, kissing him passionately, as if to seal the promise.

  “I take that as a yes?” he said, taking her hand in his.

  “I love you,” she whispered, meeting his eyes with tears in her own.

  They rested their heads against the back of the couch, gazing at each other.

  Pepper gave a doggy sigh and settled down on the floor.

  Trace drew a deep breath. “There’s more you have to know. Jonah’s mom, she was a drug addict. Before we met, I worked for a guy, Mike. It was a job, on the side, to help pay for school. I was a driver, expected to look the other way when, well, when he did whatever he did. He sold drugs, guns. It was ugly. I made mistakes, got a lot of tattoos, and got in even more fights.”

  “Will never said anything, well except that you had a son, after I threatened him. I thought maybe you had a secret family and were cheating on your wife.”

  “I would never. I’m loyal, like this guy,” he said, patting Pepper. “Will is a good friend, he’s always been there for me, but he knew I had to smooth out all the rough patches before I moved onto the smooth. After I stopped working for Mike, Fillie, Jonah’s mom, well, she hooked up with him. She got a free ride from the drug dealer, and a hit whenever she wanted it, money to burn from child support and…she did a shoddy job of looking after my boy. I found him a couple times, alone. I was arrested for assaulting Mike for giving her drugs, causing her to neglect Jonah. Looking back, I was stupid. Him with the guns, heavies, and then the arrest, and all.” Trace sighed, as if dreading reliving the story.

  “I took her to court, tried to get custody, and it turned out that Jonah was allowed to go with her for a week, once a month as long as there was an approved adult with them. Nonetheless, those weeks, I couldn’t stand to be in the City; afraid I’d go to their apartment and take Jonah in the night to keep him safe. After she broke up with Mike, she got really bad, hooked on crack. She refused to go to rehab. I took her back to court, requesting full custody, and all the while struggling with trying to figure out how to take care of him, work, and be here with you. That was in the winter. We were in and out of mediation, and then, the night before we were to go in front of the judge, for the final ruling, I got a call.” Trace went quiet.

  The grandfather clock ticked, counting seconds in the background.

  “Fillie had od’d. She’d been at a party in Brooklyn. I guess a bunch of people got sick that night. She didn’t make it.”

  Baskia’s hand pressed to her mouth. “London. She was there, I think. She said she was at a party, she went unconscious, and someone died.”

  “That was the crazy girl on New Year’s Eve?”

  Baskia nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

  Trace shrugged. “Me too. Fillie needed help. But just so you know, I didn’t love her. I didn’t like her. She lied and cheated, stole, and used Jonah’s very existence as leverage for more money, which led to more drugs. It shows you what kind of person that she was, getting high the night before going to court to state her case for being a good mother and battling me for custody. Help was there for her, but she didn’t accept it.” He rubbed his hands down his face, as if wishing to wipe the memory away.

  “I just can’t imagine. Poor Jonah.” Baskia thought of her mother, Patty, Daniella, Wes and Mellie. “There are many ways to fill that role. He’ll be fine. He’ll be loved.”

  “As it was, he hardly knew her. He didn’t even call her mommy. I doubt he’ll remember. But—” A question formed on Trace’s face. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  Baskia nodded in an unspoken answer, deciding, like Daniella had, to go all in. “Does he like waffles? I have a great buckwheat recipe with chocolate blueberry sauce and whipped cream.”

  “Say what?”

  Baskia went on to tell him about her love affair with food, bringing a cheer to his otherwise burdened mood.

  “You really did miss me,” he said teasingly.

  “Wouldn’t you like that?”

  “I missed you,” Trace said, leaning toward Baskia, his signature amused grin, blazing on his lips.

  “I may have missed you a little.”

  Trace brought his hands to Baskia’s cheeks, pulling her mouth to his. They kissed, long and sweetly.

  “Okay, maybe a lot,” she added, taking a breath as her pulse quickened. Their mouths met again, this time hungrier, as if despite all the dishes she’d learned how to make, she was still starving.

  Baskia ran her hands along Trace’s strong arms, remembering the contours of his muscles. He brushed his hand along the side of her chest, feeling her curves and nibbling his way down her neck. He tugged on the belt loops of her shorts, bringing her t
o her feet. She reached up, hands around his neck, kissing him more, harder, as they stumbled toward the bedroom. Their clothes were off by the time they closed the door behind them.

  Baskia reclined on the bed, illuminated in the moonlight.

  Trace kneeled, taking her in. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t want a day to pass when I’m not reminded of that.” He took her in his arms, pressing their warm skin together, and they made love. As the moon rose higher and brighter, they lay on the bed; Baskia no longer afraid of Trace seeing all parts of her, the imperfections, and the uncertainties, the mistakes and shortcomings. She bared her real, true self, and she embraced those parts of him.

  She clasped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He nuzzled his nose against hers. They pressed closer, her chest against his.

  “I’m ready for this,” he said. “I’m ready for love. I love you,” he said.

  “I love you,” she said.

  ^^^

  The next morning, Baskia woke to a small voice and a big voice whispering in the kitchen. She quickly pulled her journal out from the drawer next to the bed, opening to a new page and wrote.

  What I learned in my almost-but-not-quite year on the mountain.

  It’s okay to just be and trust everything will work out as long as I continue to work toward dreams and goals, whatever they may be. And if I don’t know, that’s okay too.

  A funny quote popped into her memory from a poster on the wall of her elementary school classroom. She jotted it down, as best she could remember.

  “Never underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”

  She’d stumped her brother with it during one of their games. But she couldn’t remember who said it, until a fuzzy little bear lumbered into her mind after the quote, as if claiming it. “Winnie the Pooh,” she said softly. She didn’t fully understand it when she was a kid, but now she grasped the idea. She added to her entry:

  Sometimes, it’s in doing what looks to most people like nothing, that we find our most important somethings.