There were many sounds around me, like the opening and closing of the glass doors; a siren approaching; a horn being blown from some roadway somewhere.
I focused on these sounds. Then I forced my mind to focus a little bit more as I closed my eyes and listened to the birds. If I blocked out the human noises, I could hear a myriad of songs, at least four different ones. Opening myself to sound without sight was strange and fascinating. I tried to pinpoint which direction the birds’ songs came from. Then I narrowed my focus a little more until I could hear the wind, just a slight breeze, really. But every few minutes or so it blew through the leaves and my skin was awash in the kiss of mountain air.
“Rowan?”
Just like a rubber band being snapped back into place, my eyes flew open and I whipped around, the peace of the moment entirely gone.
My fist curled into a ball though I forced it to remain by my side. Instead, I narrowed my eyes.
“Can we talk?”
I allowed my gaze to go from the top of her head, over her familiar yet somehow foreign face, over her rail-thin body.
“I don’t know what there is to say. You’re back.” My head and neck twitched. I tried to shrug like none of this mattered, like nothing mattered, but it came out more like an uncontrolled tick.
She stared out at the parking lot where a line of cars were waiting to pay and go on their way. “Ro, you know there’s more to it than that.”
“Look. It’s done. You left. And now you’re back. Yeah you.” I was caught between urges of violence and weeping.
She released a huff of air. I couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or resignation. Whatever the case, I didn’t care. Several minutes passed in silence. There was a trail of ants near Jess’s booted foot, busy scurrying back and forth.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“What did you say?” I jumped off the bench to confront her. Was she leaving again? Is that what she was going to tell me?
She cleared her throat. “I can’t…be a mother.” With a heavy shudder, she slumped onto the bench in the exact place I’d just vacated. If the birds were still singing, I could no longer hear them. Somehow the area descended into complete, eerie silence. The only thing I could hear was Jess’s ragged breath.
“I’m sorry.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I didn’t think I would get so upset.”
I didn’t dare open my mouth. If I did, if I allowed all of the anger and hurt and frustration of the past weeks to boil up, I would probably wrap my hands around her throat and choke her. If she was leaving again, if that was what she was telling me, then I wouldn’t be able to control myself. There would be no way.
“I just can’t do it,” she said again, her voice just strong enough for me to hear.
My vision turned red as fury flooded through me. There were other options. If she couldn’t be a mother, there were other ways to handle it than running away again, than leaving her sick child. My fists curled into balls, ready to pummel into her.
“But I’m going to do it right this time.” She sniffed.
Do it right? I couldn’t ask the question. I still didn’t trust my voice, but I did trust my fists. Just as the urge to swing washed over me, a police officer came out of the hospital entrance and I lowered my arm. If I needed to, I’d beat the shit out of her in private. When no one could stop me.
“I’m not going to run away again.” It was like she could read my thoughts. “I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, a sliver of sympathy shot through me. She really seemed worse for the wear. I thought she was struggling before she left, but she had never looked like she did now.
She pulled at the edges of her shirt before she looked at me. “I’m going to put him up for adoption.”
She surprised me, this best friend of mine. She surprised me to such an extent that my fists unclenched, my eyes widened, and my mouth fell open. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and I thought there would be no end to the flood inside of her as they poured down her face.
Maybe there shouldn’t be. She was going to give up her son and put him up for adoption. Maybe she should cry over that. Long and hard.
Without meaning to, though, without fully understanding how my emotions could go from rage to heartbreak, I pulled her into my arms. This time when she started to cry, I cried with her. This sudden turn of events took my breath, bottled it into an air tight container, and hurled it into outer space. Was she talking about a future without Jacob? The thought left me stunned.
I don’t know how much time passed. At some point, Jess got up and wiped her eyes with the hem of her shirt. Then she laid a hand on my shoulder and walked back inside.
When she passed through the glass doors, I stood to my feet and watched her back for as long as I could until she moved out of view. Then I left.
I HEADED toward the one place where I could process my heartbreak over the thought of Jacob leaving our lives. Beauty Mountain called to me and I answered that call, where the air was crisp and cool, where it would seep through my skin, into my bloodstream. There, I would try to come to terms with everything that was happening, had happened these last several days.
After I parked the car, I slid my phone into my back pocket and started forward. With each step, I felt the tree canopy surround me, the earth cushion me, secure me in its a dark embrace. It was like a living, breathing hug.
Jess’s words hung like a foreign object in my line of vision, black and jagged, making it difficult to see around. Would she actually do it? We had discussed adoption when she found out she was pregnant. But she had decided she wanted to keep the baby, even asking me if I thought she could do it; could be a mom. We were sitting on the floor of Mrs. Anderson’s closet, designer clothes strewn all over the floor. It had been a strange responsibility to have thrust my way. I knew she respected my opinion. If I told her I thought she should give up her baby, she very well may have. At the time, against my better judgment, though, I had said yes, that I thought she could be a good mom.
And I thought it would turn out well enough. With me to help, Tanya downstairs, her job at the bookstore, I thought she could make it. I ignored the feeling of doubt that settled in my gut like a stone and supported her in what I could tell she really wanted.
Maybe I held some responsibility in this. If I were honest, maybe our lives would’ve taken a different turn, though I couldn’t imagine never having had Jacob in my life.
Maybe I didn’t hold any responsibility. Maybe it was just fate.
But now, adoption seemed like the only answer, assuming she could find the right couple. Preferably someone close-by. What if I never got to see him again? The thought crushed my heart. I didn’t know if I could recover from that. But, then again, if it were the best thing for Jacob, then I would manage.
The ground was half-frozen under my feet and my fingers went numb. I pushed them into the pockets of my coat and bounced on my feet as I walked to keep the blood flowing. Soon I was at the rock where Mike and I used to meet. But I didn’t want to sit down so I kept hiking, kept thinking.
The thought of losing Jacob was too painful. My footsteps faltered, halted, and threatened never to start again if I tried to wrap my mind around what that meant. Instead, I thought about the other balls up in the air—Mike, Shane, Trina…I never did finish that English Lit paper. Maybe I would drop the class. I still had time. But then, did I want to start doing that? Dropping classes because I couldn’t get the work done?
And why was I playing with my future with Shane? I really liked him. A lot. He was everything that I would want in a boyfriend. Everything. Except for one problem. He wasn’t Mike.
But Mike had a girlfriend. And there was no guarantee that we could exist as a couple, that we could operate as a normal couple. Maybe we only thrived on the drama.
For the first time in a while, I couldn’t see a path forward. I knew it was there. I knew I would finish college, apply to
veterinary school, stay at the animal shelter. I knew these things so it was strange not to see a path. Maybe it was my emotional path I couldn’t see.
Maybe that was what I needed to work on. I knew my physical path. I could see it pretty clearly. As long as I got myself back on track at school, there was no reason why I couldn’t achieve the dream of being a veterinarian.
But something was still missing, off—obscured from my view. Why was my life always destined to be in turmoil? What was it about my life that made everything seem so difficult? I doubted many other students at Berkeley Mountain College had drama in their lives like I did. When would I pass beyond this? When would I be allowed to just be?
If Jacob left our lives, that little boy so intertwined with my own baby brother, could I ever heal? Survive my own devastating past?
Something told me I very well may not.
I walked on, my footsteps loud in the quiet. The wind was blowing here at the top of the world, grabbing wisps of my hair and sending it flying about my face, my shoulders. I didn’t pull it back, though. I relished the feel against my skin.
I was thirty minutes away from my car, thoughts popping into my head and popping out with each step I took. Nothing took hold, though. It was like my mind was filtering through different ideas, options, emotions and feelings to decide what I could handle at this moment, what I needed.
Like a sudden light dawning over me, I realized Tanya was right…and maybe Mike, too. I needed help. I wanted to start the healing process, and I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own, not fully and completely.
The road I needed to travel was there in front of me, if only I could move beyond the fog. And to do that, I needed to talk to someone. I even had a therapist I could see. But I didn’t want that connection to Mom. If I were going to do this, I wanted to start with a clean slate, with a therapist who wanted to work with Rowan, not Rowan’s entire family.
I stopped right at the edge of a peak, where huge boulders sat nestled as a barrier to the steep drop. I leaned onto one, lying on my stomach, leaning out toward the great ravine. And I closed my eyes.
Was I ready to truly deal with what it had meant to grow up as a member of the Slone family?
I nodded to myself as a breeze of cold air kissed my cheeks, stunned at the clarity of this unexpected conviction.
Was I ready to acknowledge that I used to be a cutter? That I still had the urges?
I nodded again as a lump built in my throat.
Was I ready to let go of the past, like the untying of a string, letting it float away and release its hold on me?
I rested my forehead on the rock, breathing in and out the musty scent.
“Yes,” I said as I lifted my head. “Yes.” The wind caught my word, and I could’ve sworn it echoed over the mountains. “I’m ready to live.”
I couldn’t do it on my own. But I was ready to get help.
A LIGHTNESS hovered over my heart, not quite sinking in, but illuminating space around it, like it might sink in, like I might actually have hope of changing my life. It was time to deal with my past, prepare for my future. If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could see my proverbial foundation and it was cracked and dry, threatening to crumble into dust at any turn and send me plummeting into its depths. But not if I made that foundation stronger.
My nose was running from the cold, and I pulled a tissue out of my pocket. The air was as crisp and clean as only mountain air can be, filling me with its freshness. It coursed through my nostrils, down my throat and spread to my cells.
Step after step, I walked with eyes closed, only opening them when I wanted to make sure my feet continued on the right path. There were still many things flying up in the air like feathers that refused to fall, refused to let me grasp them. But maybe I could grab them soon and settle the world around me.
My heart pounded as I scaled the steep incline of the mountainside that would lead me past the rock that Mike and I shared, and on to the car. At one point I picked up a twig, feeling the moist bark between my fingers. I held it to my nose and inhaled the earthy scent as I continued my hike.
Memories of my first boyfriend were so deeply attached to my heart, especially when I visited Beauty Mountain, that I felt it tug painfully. That tug was also there when I thought about a future without Shane. But Mike was Mike. Having him come back into my life at this time above all others was, well, confusing, thrilling. If I were going to move forward, I needed to deal with Mike and our relationship, too. Even if there were no future for us, and I was surprised to find my stomach turn sour at the thought, I would have to resolve those feelings of not only love, but hurt, too. Lost in these thoughts, I didn’t notice the star of these reveries until I walked right upon him.
“Mike?” My mouth fell open in disbelief.
“Rowan?” Mike slid off the rock, his eyes widened in shock. “What are you doing here?”
I shrugged and ran a hand through my hair. Mike was here? Now? It was like my thoughts had sent out an invisible signal summoning him to me.
“I still come here sometimes.” The blush spreading across my cheeks was warm.
“Yeah. I come here when I’m in town.”
“You do?” What was it about this peak that seemed to lure us both back? I didn’t know of anyone else whose tie to this spot was as strong.
He closed the space between us and pulled me into a hug. I could feel the beat of his heart against my cheek. As abruptly as he embraced me, though, he let me go and stepped back as if he couldn’t stand to be close to me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. I mean, I guess.” He watched me with unblinking eyes. “Why are you here? Is everything okay with Jacob?”
I looked around me. If this wasn’t the most beautiful place in the world, it was really close. With soaring mountains that made the treetops kiss the sky, it was a lush, ethereal landscape that had to be touched by Heaven.
“Jess is back.”
“What?”
“Yep, she just showed up out of nowhere.”
“Where did she show up?”
“At the hospital.”
I could see his mind reeling as he blew into his cold hands, trying to warm them. “Is she back to stay?”
“That I don’t know. But she says she’s going to put Jacob up for adoption.” I cringed to say the words out loud. Tears welled in my eyes, my heart.
“Adoption? Why now? I mean, he’s five months old. Shouldn’t she have done that already?”
I threw my hands up in the air, not sure what to say. “I guess we’ll just see how this plays out.”
“Hey.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him. “I’m sorry. That must be tough.”
“Yeah—” My words fell off like a boulder dropped off a cliff.
But my hand warmed in his, sending ribbons of his energy coursing through my body. And it felt good.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, his voice cracking.
I nodded, his eyes burning into me like he was seeking something past the paleness of my skin and the grayness of my eyes; seeking something internal and raw. I felt exposed. I tried to put up my guard, but I realized I couldn’t do that with Mike. He knew who I was, for better or for worse.
Several minutes passed as we took turns looking away, at each other, shifting on our feet. At one point he coughed. I sneezed, and he said bless you.
I glanced down at my watch. The wind kicked up a swirl of fallen leaves and one landed on the toe of my shoe. I picked up the deep-red leaf and twirled it between my fingers, eager for some sort of distraction.
“Do you need to go?” he asked.
Once again he was looking at me with eyes that were darker than the pine color I had imprinted on my brain. I could almost see the thoughts and emotions whirling around inside him, though I wasn’t sure what they were.
I shook my head.
“I lied,” he whispered.
My breath stopped just at my heart and didn�
�t move. “About what?” I managed.
“My girlfriend.” His voice dropped, and I wasn’t sure I heard these next words. “Well, I didn’t lie. I had a girlfriend. But she’s not my girlfriend anymore. I broke up with her this morning.”
I didn’t need to wonder if he was telling the truth or why she was no longer his girlfriend because within a breath, he closed the space between us and cupped my face between his hands. His lips closed over mine, and he kissed me with more heat than he had ever kissed me before.
His palms were moist against my skin, but I did not pull away. I couldn’t pull away. His lips, those familiar, beloved lips made me powerless, and I willingly surrendered.
THAT KISS. Is there any way to explain a kiss like that? It could go up against any in the romance novels Jess used to read in high school. Even though I didn’t read them, she never failed to read aloud the juicy parts that made my toes curl.
This kiss even rivaled those clichéd ones of history: Romeo and Juliette, Rhett and Scarlet, Princess Buttercup and Wesley, Rose and Jack.
Now, Rowan and Mike would be forever added to that list.
His warm, moist mouth, his soft yet earnest tongue, the feel of his hands, his body pressed against mine nearly sent my soul shooting into the stars. The sweet decadent scent of the forest settled in around us like an embrace. We were so tightly woven together at that moment, I didn’t think we would ever disentangle ourselves.
Something told me we wouldn’t want to.
He moved his hands from my face, making my skin grow cold with the loss of his warmth. But then he wrapped them around my waist, lifting me until I was level with him. I wove my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Fire tore over my skin, extinguishing any coolness that I had ever felt in my entire life.
His head turned. Mine tilted in the opposite direction allowing the kiss to deepen even further. He breathed my breath and I his. I melted; my insides softening. To him. To Mike.
My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy Page 52