Dancing with the Sun

by Kay Bratt

  Her job at the hospital had seemed manageable before the accident, but afterward she found it overwhelming, so Sadie had turned over all household bills and details to Tom. She didn’t even know if they still owned the property. Everything about the lake property had become tainted. She forbade Tom to speak of it or ever try to get her to go back. That oasis of privacy had contributed to the shattering of her life. And it was after those dark days that she’d decided nature wasn’t a friend. It was a dirty, lying, and thieving enemy. Lauren’s chatter brought her back to the moment.

  “Mom, seriously? This is your one chance to say you’ve been to Yosemite. Don’t you want to make it official? If we follow Snow Creek Trail from here, it’s just over a mile to Tenaya Lake. I’ve heard that it’s one of the most peaceful sites you’ll ever visit. I’d really like to see it. With you.”

  It wasn’t so much a question as a statement, and Sadie knew Lauren didn’t expect an answer. When her daughter’s mind was made up, there was no changing it without a fight. And after all, this was Lauren’s day, whether she remembered it or not. How could Sadie say no?

  “Later we’ll go do something safe,” Lauren joked. “Like walk around the mall or get smoothies. Unless you’re afraid you might trip and break a leg in the food court?”

  Sadie ignored her sarcasm. Surprisingly, there were only a half dozen other people in the parking lot, including one man with a hat pulled low over his eyes, setting up a camera on a tripod. An elderly couple was there too, the woman carefully positioning herself on one of the stark, flat granite rocks as her husband snapped photos with his cell phone.

  There was a line of six or seven parked cars, and a few more went by slowly.

  “There’s not many people out here, is there?” Sadie said, more to herself than to Lauren. She really, really didn’t want to take a hike—or a walk—whatever it was considered. The mystery of what lay waiting in the woods set her on edge.

  “It’s afternoon. Most hikers start in the morning and are already out there,” Lauren said. “I’ve been wanting to come here and check this trail out for ages.”

  “Are you sure about this, Lauren? Can we just head out without alerting anyone? Aren’t we supposed to check in or something?” Sadie wasn’t a hiker, and she’d never been to Yosemite, but surely there was some sort of procedure.

  “Not for just going down this trail. It not technically a hike. It’s just a walk.”

  There she went again. Semantics. Walk, stroll, or hovering three feet over the ground—it didn’t matter what it was called because stepping off the lookout point and into the trees all meant the same thing to Sadie.

  Untamed land. Wild. The unknown. All things she couldn’t control.

  Sadie noticed Lauren hadn’t brought a jacket but held her tongue, not wanting to nag. It was a warm day, and they’d be back well before nightfall. She reached down and tugged to tighten the knot of the sweater she wore tied around her waist. She was cold natured and always had another layer handy, even if the weather was on the warmer side.

  “Today is just perfect for this,” Lauren said.

  Perfect weather, yes. But even the unusually mild March temperatures would do nothing to soften the news that Sadie came to give her daughter. Even at this age, Lauren was loyal to her father first and foremost, meaning it was inevitable that Sadie would get the blame for everything. Sadie had no plans to tarnish the pedestal that Lauren had put Tom on. She’d keep the news short and simple. Matter-of-fact. Leave the emotion out of it. And her suspicions.

  That was the only way to avoid more drama. More pain.

  Lauren and Tom had always banded together, a father-daughter team that had made Sadie feel as if she were on her own many times—standing to the side or over them, directing and organizing their family life. But she’d never let them see that it hurt to feel as though she weren’t part of the inner circle. She’d never felt that way with her first child. To Jacob, she was the sun and the moon and everything in between.

  She thought of him as a toddler, remembering the way he curled into her when he was sleepy, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger as he drifted away against her shoulder. She’d lay him down and then linger, her lips on his forehead.

  He’d been a mama’s boy, and her heart cringed painfully even thinking about him.

  Sadie had seen a group of college boys walking as a group through the airport on her way out and imagined that if Jacob were there, he’d have been the tallest and most handsome. She fantasized about him traveling with some of his buddies, perhaps on his high school football or basketball team, headed to a state championship. With his gregarious personality, he would’ve been the pack leader.

  If he’d lived.

  Lauren smacked the steering wheel, startling Sadie. She caught her breath, then focused her thoughts away from the face that still haunted her.

  “Dad will be so jealous. He said next time he visits, we are coming out here. Now we’ll be able to tell him you got to see it first.”

  “Did you text him today?” Sadie asked. Maybe Lauren knew something about his whereabouts.

  She had a horrible thought then. Did Lauren already know about Tom? Could her daughter keep that sort of secret from her own mother? She discarded the idea. It couldn’t be possible. Lauren was as transparent as they came.

  Lauren nodded. “I did, but it was a quick good morning and talk to you later text.”

  Good thing, Sadie thought. Tom was most likely too busy doing whatever it was he was doing to have a lengthy back-and-forth conversation. But he’d be hurt when he discovered Sadie had come to visit Lauren without him. He’d find out soon enough when he came home to an empty house.

  At least that would give him a glimpse into the silence she battled with Lauren gone and him disappearing for his camping and research trips so frequently.

  Sadie pushed aside a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t at least left a note. He’d wonder why she’d acted so out of character.

  But maybe he’d figure out that she was on to him.

  He’d talked about seeing Yosemite with Lauren. But too bad. He always got to do all the exciting stuff with Lauren while Sadie was the one to crack the whip and keep her on task, urging her along with her health and schoolwork, constantly reminding their daughter to keep her eyes on the big picture that was her future.

  Tom was the live-in-the-moment part of their parenthood pact. Sure, he worried for Lauren’s future, but he kept those thoughts to himself and let Sadie play warden.

  “Are you sure these shoes will do?” Sadie asked, looking doubtfully at her canvas sneakers. They weren’t made for much other than looking cute with a pair of jeans. The most she’d done with them was walk the dog. On a sidewalk. In civilization.

  She hoped the shoes would be her way out. A reprieve.

  Lauren laughed. “I guess they’ll have to. But we aren’t going far, so you’ll be fine. Too bad you can’t fit in my shoes, or you could’ve worn my old boots.”

  Of course Sadie couldn’t fit her dreadful size nines in Lauren’s petite size sixes unless she cut off her toes. Her daughter was blessed with the feminine stature that Sadie had always admired, so different than her own five feet, eight inches that sometimes left her uncomfortably towering over others.

  Sadie looked at the boots Lauren wore. They were pricey, and Sadie had flinched buying them when they’d gone shopping for West Coast attire.

  “How will you break them in?” she’d asked Lauren when she’d seen the price tag. “You’ll be spending all your time behind the desk, designing brochures and other marketing materials for the park.”

  Lauren had laughed, claiming she would be hiking and hopefully participating in some nature adventures while she was there. Technically, her internship had ended the last day of February, but they’d asked Lauren to stay on for a few weeks. By the looks of the boots, Lauren had been right; she’d done a good job breaking them in.

  “And you’re all set to leave in three weeks?�
� Sadie said, breaking into a new subject without warning as she was prone to do when thinking too far ahead. “You’ve got to confirm your schedule if we’re going to lock in your classes for the next semester.”

  “We’ll see,” Lauren said, her eyes going back to the hikers climbing the steep granite.

  Something in her voice sounded suspicious, and Sadie thought of Cooper. If Lauren wasn’t ready to fly home at the end of March, there was no doubt he had something to do with it. Sadie was determined that before the day was out, she would have something to say about it too. Lauren needed to be back in South Carolina, or she was going to end up losing the part-time position at the marketing firm that Sadie had pulled strings for her to get. According to Sadie’s boss, who had recommended Lauren for the position his wife’s company had open, there had been at least three hundred other applicants. Sadie owed him because that job was going to look really good on Lauren’s resume next to her degree in marketing management.

  They needed to stay on task—for they were nearing the finish line, and all Sadie’s hard work to keep her daughter on the straight and narrow would finally be realized. Life was moving fast. All of them were about to embark on new beginnings, some more celebratory than others.

  “What do you mean, we’ll see?” Sadie said.

  “Mom, can we just enjoy this afternoon before it’s gone?” Lauren said. “We’ll talk about it when we head back.”

  Lauren opened the car door, exiting with one graceful move as Sadie lumbered out, her muscles already aching from the long morning. She sighed—wishing she’d brought some ibuprofen. Before she shut the door, she retrieved her purse from the floorboard and fumbled in it, hesitating with her fingers on her cell phone, then leaving it to grab the opened pack of gum she’d bought that morning, pushing it into the back pocket of her jeans.

  “You have your phone?” she asked Lauren. “Mine’s almost dead, so I’ll leave it.”

  “You don’t need your purse, Mom,” Lauren said. “Put it back here.”

  Her daughter went to the back of the car and popped the trunk, pulling her backpack out of it. Sadie got a look at the mountain of items stowed back there.

  “Good Lord, Lauren. What are you doing? Living out of this trunk?” she asked, peering down to see closer into the mess that, among other things, consisted of rumpled clothing, a few beach towels, a half case of bottled water, and a scattering of textbooks. “You really need to clean this out. What if you have a flat tire? You won’t even be able to get to the spare.” She plucked a bottle of water out of the ripped-open case, twisted the top, and took a swig.

  Sadie remembered the pepper spray that Tom had put in her last Christmas stocking. She retrieved the tiny pink cylinder from her bag before tossing the bag into the trunk on top of Lauren’s junk pile.

  “Stop judging,” Lauren said, “and look at you. I’m sure your tiny pepper spray will come in handy if we see a miniature mugger.” She laughed and slammed the trunk shut, then wiggled into the backpack.

  “That’s hilarious, Lauren. But it’s not just pepper spray—it’s also a flashlight.”

  “It’s the middle of the day. Why would you need a flashlight?” Lauren rolled her eyes, reminding Sadie that under her new mature bravado, she wasn’t yet a full-fledged adult.

  Sadie poked the canister into her back pocket with the gum. Lauren watched her, hands on her hips and an amused smile on her face. Sadie noticed that Lauren’s jeans were worn. As soon as she came home, Sadie needed to get her to the mall and pick up some new ones so Lauren could look fresh and in style for her new classes. Dress for success, she’d always said, denying Lauren’s pleas for shredded jeans or whatever other unattractive fad came and went. At least until high school, when Lauren had stood her ground and decided her own wardrobe and learned the art of negotiation.

  Like most girls, Lauren wasn’t happy with the shape of her body and the extra curves she’d gained in the last years. Of course, the freshman-fifteen rule didn’t apply, as Lauren was now a sophomore and had long since left behind the eager but hesitant girl who’d first left for college, transforming the home she’d grown up in from one full of noise, friends, and laughter to a hollowed-out tomb, void of life.

  But they never let her know that. For all Lauren knew, her parents were having a great time living it up in a house all to themselves, able to decide where to eat or go and what movie to see. No longer having to cater to the stubbornness or constant motion of a teenager in the house.

  Sadie missed her more than she thought possible.

  Lauren frowned. She turned to Sadie, swinging her body to get the backpack settled comfortably. “I’ll carry the bag. Let’s just focus on taking it slow and easy. I don’t want you to strain yourself today.”

  Years earlier, after many examinations and tests that had led to nowhere, Sadie had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia. She could do all the exercising she wanted, but for the next several days afterward, she’d always pay for it. It was like walking a tightrope. She needed to keep moving to avoid stiffness, but if she did even a tad too much, she’d battle excessive pain. She couldn’t count how many times she’d pushed her limits only to wake up the next morning feeling like she’d been hit by a Mack truck. The disease was tricky like that, the flare-ups sending circuits of pain throughout her entire body or sometimes just leaving it feeling beaten and bruised, exhausted beyond measure.

  For years she’d fought to keep it under control, instead of letting it control her. The doctor had said the pain was her body’s way of processing her grief, and he’d urged her to be proactive with medication, though she’d still resisted, not wanting her brain to be foggy. That meant she didn’t have a fighting chance against the bouts of insomnia that plagued her. And she didn’t like to talk about her limitations. Ever.

  But Lauren knew of them. It was impossible for her not to.

  Soon, though, Sadie planned to take that problem by the horns. She was going to hit it with everything she could. Yoga. Meditation. Walking. And she’d read about a process of pinpointing and then eliminating triggers from her diet. Some patients were seeing good results from changing their eating habits drastically to include only fresh meats, fruits, and vegetables. Now that she’d be cooking for one, it might be possible to really be strict.

  Yes, she had a whole new life in front of her now that she’d decided to focus on herself.

  “Fine, but what’s in there? We won’t be out there long, right?” Sadie asked.

  “Mom. Chill. Why so many questions?”

  Lauren turned then, heading for the edge of the lot to stand at the lookout, and pointed into the distance. “That’s Clouds Rest, and just beyond it is Half Dome.” She switched direction, aiming her finger toward the east. “And somewhere over there is Tenaya Lake.”

  It was incredible, Sadie had to admit. They stared for a minute, and Lauren chattered on. Sadie lost half of what she said because of her own thoughts. She caught the last of it as she realized her daughter was moving, leading them toward a small opening in the woods where a trail picked up.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry,” Lauren said, winking at her mom. “I also have a compass app on my phone. Let’s hurry. I have some news to tell you.”

  “What news?” Sadie asked, feeling uneasy.

  “I’ll tell you when we get there. I wanted to tell you and Dad together, but I can’t hold it in any longer. We’ll call Dad before you leave, and you can help me tell him.”

  Sadie’s thoughts jumped from one scenario to another. What did her daughter have up her sleeve? Lauren had been dating Cooper for some time, but was it that serious? Had they gotten engaged? She glanced down quickly but didn’t see a ring. Well, if they had, they would just have to get unengaged, because Sadie wasn’t letting Lauren make the same mistake she had in marrying so young.

  Looking back now, Sadie could see that she’d been clueless. Naive. She’d thought that love could overcome anything. And sure
, the first twenty years had been good ones, but as was normal for so many years, there came obstacles. Then the tragedy. And so much guilt. Yet Sadie thought they had overcome it all and put it to rest. But in the last three years, all the hurt she’d thought was buried had bubbled to the surface, making their marriage feel like a union of duty instead of love. And she wasn’t about to feel like an obligation to him for the next twenty.

  “Lauren, you know I don’t like surprises,” Sadie said. Ironic, since she was about to spring one too. But Lauren wouldn’t be smiling at Sadie’s surprise.

  Lauren ignored her, as she’d always done when she didn’t like what her mother said. It was a quirk that Lauren had picked up from her dad and finessed to an entirely new level. Pretend you can’t hear when someone is saying something you don’t want to listen to. Put your head in the sand when bad news hits. Live in a fantasy world where only good things happen.

  Sadie would’ve liked to pull more from Lauren, but she didn’t want her daughter’s mood to turn. In her current state, she was approachable and hopefully would be understanding. But lately Lauren could go from excited or happy to sullen in one breath. People said it was the age. That children became unrecognizable to their parents from puberty until they reached twenty-three, when then they reverted back to their normal personalities. Sadie hoped so because at times she could see how animals in the wild occasionally ate their young.

  Lauren turned, waving at her to catch up. “Say goodbye to civilization and hello to the beauty of the wild, Mom,” she said, taking her first step onto a trail just beyond a sign that read TO YOSEMITE VALLEY.

  Exploring Yosemite Valley was the last thing Sadie wanted to be doing, but she held her tongue, deciding that a little time in nature might be just what she needed to find a way to deliver her news to Lauren gently and, finally, move forward with her life.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Research said that you couldn’t pass mannerisms and body language down to a child who was not of your blood, but Sadie would argue that study. Whether Lauren was adopted or not, from Sadie’s view, following Lauren along the trail, she could see Tom in their daughter’s stride. Even in the casual way she swung her arms and the quick movements of her head to catch the views all around her—all reminiscent of her father. But Lauren was no longer the girl who had once held her daddy’s hand everywhere they went. Sadie could see the woman she was becoming, and she wondered what sort of mother her Lauren would be.