Lessons In Gravity

by Megan Westfield

  “It’s a multipitch rappel.”

  “I don’t know, Josh. I’m new at all this. I’ve only done the kind where there’s one rope that goes all the way to the bottom. Maybe it’s better if I just walk down.”

  “This is the same thing, it’s just that we do it several times in a row. We’re going down over there,” he said, pointing to the side of the buttress that was shorter and less steep. “There are belay chains and nice big ledges all the way down.”

  Still, she was skeptical.

  “Two hours to walk off, or thirty minutes to rappel,” he said. “Take your pick.”

  The rappelling option would give her ninety extra minutes alone with him. How could she argue with that?

  “I’ll race you to the lake,” he said.

  “Oh, no. I’m not going in the lake again.”

  “You big baby.”

  She groaned. “It’s so cold.”

  He was already unbuckling his harness. “Loser owes the winner a whole box of Loftycakes.”

  “Hey! I don’t even like Loftycakes.”

  He was completely ignoring her as he tore off his shirt and wiggled free of his harness. She popped the camera into its padded case and zipped it closed.

  She sprinted down the granite ramp, her body screaming from the work on the cliff yesterday as she closed the distance to Josh. They hit the gravel beach at the same time, but she was first to have her feet in the water.

  “Yes!” she yelled.

  They climbed up the roots of the downed tree, and he followed her out to the middle.

  They turned to face the water. “Ready?” he asked.

  She grabbed his hand, took a huge breath, and they leaped from the log. She knew what to expect this time, so the freezing water didn’t make her panic as she kicked to the surface. They bobbed in the water, gasping for air, and then swam for shore.

  They slowed where the drop-off ended and the water was warmer. Josh was able to stand there, but it was still too deep for her to touch. He pulled her to him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. They were still breathing fast from the cold water, and their warm bellies fought for space to expand.

  He lifted her and spun her slowly in a circle, like he had in her room after the gala. But then he picked up speed and flung her into the lake. The deeper, colder part of the lake. She came up sputtering and swam up to him from behind, making him lose his balance and slip underwater.

  “Brr! Truce! Let’s go back,” Josh said when he surfaced.

  They waded the rest of the way to shore and stood on the same patch of moss as before, pressed together for warmth.

  “Let’s go over there,” Josh said. He pointed to the pile of boulders that rose from the water on the narrow end of the lake. One of the boulders near the top had a flat top that glistened white in the sun.

  Soaking wet and barefoot, they picked their way over to the boulder and climbed on top. The granite was as sun warmed as it looked, and the taller rocks behind them radiated heat and blocked the wind. She sat cross-legged in front of him, and he massaged her shoulders with hands that spanned as wide as her back. His fingertips were magical, pressing deep into her aching muscles and melting yesterday’s soreness away.

  When he finished, she leaned back and he lowered his head to kiss her shoulder. The two of them stayed there on pause, his eyelashes leaving a butterfly kiss on her cheek each time he blinked.

  “It feels like I’ve known you a long time,” he said.

  “Must be my face,” she said. “I get that a lot.”

  “No, really, April. I feel very close to you. And it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way about anyone.”

  Not only did she feel close to him, she felt safe around him. It was ironic, considering his profession, but it was true. Ever since the crash, she had been on guard. Even in her happiest moments, she could still feel that edge, deep down. But when she was with him, there was nothing but joy. Was that how it used to be, before? Before she knew nightmares could—and did—come true.

  He lowered onto his back, his torso stretching long as he clasped his hands behind his head as a cushion. She couldn’t take her eyes off his body. It was the exoticness of him being so at home against the granite, and the intricate furrows of the muscle beneath his deeply tanned skin. The jaguar effect.

  “You look so serious,” he said.

  “It’s just—”

  She reached out, laying her fingertip on his sun-warmed skin, slowly tracing the side of his oblique, then letting her fingers drift over the crosshatch of muscle above his belly button. She flattened a bead of lingering lake water on his lower stomach, pulling it like paint through the valley of one of his V muscles.

  Josh’s lips parted. She laid her hand along his jaw, running her thumb across his lower lip before leaning in to replace her thumb with a featherlight kiss.

  He curled into her as she lay down on the rock, tucking his forearm under her head and resting his cheek on her shoulder. He swept a lock of her damp hair back from her temple before trailing his fingers down her arm to find her hand.

  In the sky above, a single hawk drifted through the puffy white clouds. The heat from the rock and Josh’s body made her delirious. She was so relaxed that she would have fallen asleep, if not for the Horsepower Juice.

  The hawk’s whistle echoed against the amphitheater of rock surrounding them. Even when Walkabout’s film played on big screens, there was no way they’d come close to communicating all that surrounded them: the impossible vastness, pure silence, warm granite, the breathtaking valley, sunshine, the stunning cliffs, hair damp with pristine lake water, not another human in sight.

  “I wish this, right now, could last forever,” he whispered. His words flowed over her neck like silk.

  “Me, too,” she whispered.

  Would it really be so bad if it did last a long time? If they could keep their relationship a secret until after filming was over, perhaps she could find a way to live with the daredevil part. Her mother had managed just fine for twenty-five years. Her mother, though, hadn’t started the relationship already having had her worst nightmare come true.

  No. There was no way April could film him on the Sorcerer while emotionally connected to him like this.

  But if Danny’s storm hit and Josh’s climb was delayed, she would have a smidge longer before she had to face the reality that what they were doing could not continue.

  Please, please, please, please let the storm come right over Yosemite.

  April twisted beneath Josh’s arms so they were face to face. As they kissed, the valley and the surrounding cliffs spun and toppled upside down. The saturated greens of the grasses, the stark white of the waterfall, and the warm grays of the cliffs merged and streamed past them in ethereal ribbons, like barely blended paint. Then the blinding blue sky bobbed back into place overhead, and the world was open and free, bursting with sublime majesty.

  …

  The wind started picking up after dinner, and by the time April made her last trip to the bathroom before bed, it was strong enough to be Halloween spooky outside. She was more at ease once she was zipped inside her tent, which Madigan had assured her was well staked and designed to withstand not only a spring rainstorm in Yosemite but 140 mile-per-hour winds in the Himalayas.

  April changed into her pajamas and snuggled into her sleeping bag. Her tent wasn’t anything fancy, but it was familiar and as much of a home as she had right now.

  She reached for the brand-new issue of Vertical View, which she’d bought from the Yosemite Village Market after she and Josh got back from the lake that afternoon.

  She flipped to the photo feature on Josh’s Indonesia trip. Most of the pictures were hunk-of-the-month style except one: a black-and-white portrait of Josh sitting at the base of one of the climbs. He wasn’t looking at the camera, and from his relaxed expression, he probably hadn’t been aware the photographer was taking it.

  This was her Josh, with the slight crinkles of con
cern at the corners of his eyes, the wild hair, the strong jaw, and the subtle amusement playing across his lips.

  She hugged the photo to her chest and clicked off her headlamp to go to sleep. Closing her eyes, she reflected on their multipitch rappel, which had been much more sexy than it had been scary. It was amazing to have the opportunity to be with Josh directly in his element like that, especially each time they were at the tight quarters of the belay anchors, hanging from the side of the cliff together with the breathtaking views all around them.

  Sometime later in the night, she awoke in the darkness. A wet splat sounded on the tight nylon roof above her head. She held her breath and looked upward. There was another splat and a third before the wind blew a handful of splats into the side of the tent.

  The raindrops picked up pace until they sounded like a drummer setting the beat for a band. Then, all at once, there were a dozen drummers, all around.

  It was the music of an answered prayer. She and Josh would have a little more time together. Still clutching the magazine, she flipped over and fell back asleep, dreaming of Josh.

  Chapter Twenty

  The downpour had stopped sometime during the night, but it was still drizzling. The rains had turned the campground into a giant mud puddle, and the cafeteria was more crowded than April had ever seen it. She grabbed the last unoccupied window table.

  She had a bunch of stuff to do for Danny, but she had all day because of the weather, so she started an email to some of her college friends, who had recently been making fake missing-person posters of her and posting them on Instagram. Eaten by a bear? was the heading on one of them. An instant message pinged in.

  JKnox@EsplanadeEquip.com: Morning, Hollywood.

  April@WalkaboutFilms.com: What are you doing up so early on a rainout day?

  Josh: Early? I’ve been up working since six.

  April: On what?

  Josh: My overdue econ test.

  She pictured him sitting cross-legged on his bed in his cozy truck with the drizzle all around.

  “Awesome!” said a guy behind her. “You got a window seat.” It was Theo. And Madigan, Danny, and Ernesto. And the two contractors who had arrived yesterday—brothers Rick and Russell.

  They pulled a second table against hers, unloaded their trays, and started up their laptops. Suddenly she was sitting at a cybercafé. She finished her cup of coffee and bit into a streusel-topped blueberry muffin.

  “The rain will clear by this evening, and the sun will be back tomorrow,” Danny said over the top of his computer. “Looks like we only got the edge of the storm, thankfully. This shouldn’t delay us more than a few days.”

  April’s IM dinged, then dinged again. Theo looked over with a raised eyebrow. Like he never IMed. She muted the sound.

  Josh: You there?

  Josh: Want to know how I knew Madigan had a thing for you?

  April: No.

  His next IM popped up silently.

  Every time I used to look at you, he’d be looking at you, too.

  She squirmed in her chair. Madigan was sitting across the table from her.

  Josh: It’s never fun to look at a cute girl and lock eyes with a dude instead.

  April: Stop! He’s right here!

  Josh: I know.

  April: How would you know that?!

  Josh: Turn around.

  A hot blush spread across her face. She whipped around, and there he was in his gray sweatshirt with the hood up, sitting behind a laptop five tables away.

  April: You’re horrible!

  “April, are you okay?” Madigan asked.

  The rest of the guys looked at her.

  “Your face is all red,” Theo said.

  “I’m fine. I just need more coffee.” She was going to kill Josh. She stood up with her mug. “Anyone else want anything?”

  Josh: You’re adorable.

  She rolled her eyes and closed her laptop screen so no one accidentally saw the conversation.

  “Can you grab a bunch of saltines?” Theo asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not talking just one or two. A big handful, please.”

  “I’m not going to steal crackers for you,” she said.

  “It’s not stealing. They’re free.”

  “Yeah, for people who buy chili.”

  “Who cares?”

  “You’re being low-class, Theo.”

  “Fine then, I’ll get them myself.” He snatched her mug and disappeared.

  She sat down and shot a nasty look to Josh, who grinned while avoiding her gaze. She lifted her screen back up.

  April: How long have you been here?

  Josh: The whole time. I was going to come join you, but you got six handsome guys instead of just one.

  April: Who said you were handsome?

  Josh: You did. At the gala.

  Memories of that night came rushing back. His fresh-from-the-shower smell, the buzz from the elderberry martinis, the proximity to him in a public setting, her dress brushing against his pants leg under the table, dancing, kissing, the knock on her door.

  Danny had forwarded her the link to the official photos from the gala so she could pick a few to post on the Walkabout blog. She clicked through them now, surprised to find two of her and Josh. Vera was right about them making a nice couple.

  In one photo, she and Josh were standing arm in arm in front of their table, smiling at the camera. Josh was movie-star handsome, and when she looked at herself, she saw her mother, twenty years younger and glowing with happiness. Josh’s face was relaxed in a way she’d rarely seen it before that night, except when he was hanging out with other climbers. Now it was that way around her whenever they were alone.

  In the second photo, she and Josh were in the same position, only they were looking at each other and laughing. His hand was draped lightly across her back, like he was about to guide her somewhere. Perhaps away from the camera. Funny. She didn’t remember anyone taking a picture of them. But then, she hadn’t been aware of much else besides Josh. Hopefully there hadn’t been too many of these intimate moments in front of other people.

  April: Have you seen the gala photos?

  Josh: I thought you said no one was taking pictures.

  April: No one except the official photographer.

  She IMed him the link.

  Danny was loading a blank DVD into his laptop. “April, there are some clips I’ve been wanting you to watch. Some good examples of climbing cinematography, some classic climbing scenes, that sort of thing.”

  “Be sure to give her Scotty Knight on Godzilla Returns,” Ernesto said. “It’s sick.”

  “Definitely,” Danny said.

  April sneaked a glance at her computer screen. Josh had IMed her a thumbnail of the laughing shot. This one’s a keeper!

  The photo or the girl? she replied, feeling bold.

  Josh: Both.

  “Who’s got an outlet?” Ernesto asked. “I’m out of juice.”

  It was no wonder: his enormous laptop had to be at least a decade old. Everyone searched the floor. The only outlet was next to her chair.

  “Me, too,” Danny said, handing her the end of his power cord.

  Josh: How ’bout we get out of here?

  April: I can’t. Not with everyone here.

  Josh: :(

  Danny popped the finished DVD out of his computer and slipped it into a sleeve. “This is good stuff here,” he said.

  She put it into her bag and then scanned the cafeteria, trying to think of an excuse to leave. People were disproportionally crowded around the edges of the room. Near outlets. Bingo. Their outlet was already at capacity. There was her excuse.

  April: Actually, maybe I can.

  Josh: That’s more like it.

  April: You go first.

  Josh: Yes, ma’am! I’ll be in my truck.

  Josh stopped by their table on his way out. His laptop was in a duct-taped messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His hood was still up.
/>   “Vera’s treating the whole crew to dinner tonight at Tall Pines,” Danny said. “You free tonight?”

  “The Tall Pines? I am now,” he said.

  It was torture being this close to Josh and not being able to look at him properly. Dinner tonight would be torture, too, being around him without being able to touch.

  “My battery’s almost out,” she announced fifteen minutes after Josh left. “I’ve got some clothes to wash, so I can finish my work over in the Laundromat.”

  …

  April took her rain jacket and shoes off and crawled into the truck. The curtains were drawn on the side that faced the search-and-rescue camp but open to the forest and the misty drizzle on the other. The radio was on low to a classical station. They sat cross-legged across from each other with their knees touching.

  She ran her fingers through Josh’s hair, chasing the droplets of drizzle away. “So what’s the deal with your hood?”

  “What about it?”

  “You had it on indoors, but your hair’s wet, so you must have taken it off when you were out in the rain.”

  “I had bedhead,” he said. “I had to hide it.”

  “You must have bedhead all the time, because I never see you without that thing up.”

  He looked off in the distance. His eyes returned to hers, beautiful and deep but troubled. For someone who lived such a carefree life, he seemed to carry so many burdens.

  “I’ve never thought about it,” he said. “But I guess it’s because I don’t want people to recognize me.”

  He forced his face into a lighter expression. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. Don’t say it.”

  “What am I thinking?” she asked.

  “That I’m turning down free publicity. But do you know all the things I do already? Magazines, ads, movies, websites, climbing workshops—”

  “Galas?”

  “Yes, that was the worst of all.”

  She pushed him over on his back and pinned him down. “Dare to say that again?”

  He flipped her over and kissed her. The truck rocked on its shocks and came to a rest. She wiggled out from underneath him.

  “No distracting me,” she said. “I have some videos to watch. Danny’s going to ask me all about them at dinner.”