Meet Me at the Summit

by Mandi Lynn

  “No, you’re right. But this has a sort of Hallmark movie vibe. I mean, come on, Marly! And he’s coming here?” she asks, eyes wide.

  “At the end of the month. To hike, yes.”

  “Either way, I’ll get to meet him, right?” Her smile is huge. I swear she enjoys watching me date more than she enjoys dating herself. Much more fun to observe from the outside when you’re not the one whose heart is at risk.

  “I think so. As long as you don’t scare him away.”

  She raises her eyebrows at the sarcasm, but lets it slide. “Is he going to take the rest of the trip with you? Very Hallmark inspired right there if he travels with you in the bus.”

  “He’s going to fly out to meet me,” I say. I push my laptop away to make some space on the table and grab food from the cabinet next to me.

  “Are you making lunch right now?” Lori puts her face closer to the screen as if that will help improve her view.

  “Yes,” I say, bending down to reach the fridge that’s located in one of the bottom cabinets and pull some cold cuts out.

  “Marly, now is not the time for eating! You still have things to fill me in on!”

  I grab a few slices of ham and cheese and top it with ranch, not bothering to make anything fancy. “No, I told you everything,” I tell her, shaking my head as I take a bite.

  “No kiss?” she asks.

  “No kiss,” I repeat.

  “So you’ll bare your soul to him, but not kiss him?”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Totally different things. We’re still practically strangers,” I tell her.

  “You would tell a stranger about you and your dad’s hiking traditions?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  Most people who know me know I hike Mount Washington every year, but Lori and my parents were the only ones to know about the bubbles. And I guess Dylan knows now as well. “Okay, I get it,” I tell her, laughing a little. “Anyway, I’m going to stay here for the next week or so until I have to leave to get back in time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I have to be back in two weeks to do the hike.”

  “But what about the stops along the way? There’s still a few more places that I highlighted for the drive home, and if you stay in Colorado too long, you won’t be able to explore.”

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “You’re supposed to travel, though,” Lori says, her face scrunching up. I watch as she wrestles with the priorities. Boy or travel? I can only have one. “I had plans for you to stop in North Carolina and see wild horses on the beach.”

  I raise an eyebrow because that’s definitely a Lori dream to see wild horses.

  “Please, you can’t ditch the plan now. You’re just starting to get the hang of this bus thing,” Lori says.

  I look down and take a breath, before I turn back to Lori. “I’ll stay here and keep exploring, then start the drive home.” I hear myself as I talk, and I cringe. Am I really about to drop everything to stick around with a guy I just met? But the other option is to drive straight home and sit around until Dylan gets there, and that sounds just as pathetic.

  Lori’s eyes soften as she watches me through the phone. “Let me think,” she says. Lori rests her chin on her hands, looking around for a solution while she thinks through every possibility. She wants me to have the boy and the trip to create that Hallmark movie love story she enjoys so much. “You have to continue the trip,” she finally says, sitting straight again.

  “Really?” I ask, slightly concerned now. It’s a rare day Lori chooses anything over a boy.

  She nods. “Yes, because the point of the bus is to travel. It has wheels for a reason. I like Dylan. Frankly, I want him for myself, but you have to do this for you. And if he says he’ll come hike Mount Washington with you, then he’ll still hike it, even if you have to leave soon. And if he doesn’t then I’ll hike it with you.” Her voice is clear and full of resolve.

  I almost laugh but I hold it back for Lori’s sake. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  I stare at her, still unconvinced.

  “I’m serious, Marly. I know it seems silly to you to go on this trip, but I think it’s important for you.”

  “I know, I know.” I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. “I need to find myself, learn to be alone, take on my life. I know.” I catch myself talking with my hands. It feels like I’m going in circles.

  “You don’t have to word it like that,” Lori says, her face dropping.

  “But that’s the point, is it not?”

  Lori bites her lip and gives an innocent shrug.

  I shake my head and laugh. “All right, so what’s my next stop then?”

  Lori reaches for something that’s outside of the view of the camera. In the corner of the screen, I see her laptop. Lori left her binder with me in the bus, but it wouldn’t be Lori if she didn’t keep a copy on her laptop. “Mark Twain National Forest.”

  I try to put on a smile. “I guess that’s the plan then.”

  Lori and I spend the next hour on the phone planning out the rest of the trip, but mostly I just go along with whatever she suggests. All I know is the address of the next place I’ll be parking the bus.

  §

  The next day I get a text from Dylan saying that he’ll pick me up for dinner. To kill time until then, I drive into town to refill on food and wash my clothes at a laundromat. My day is mostly little errands like this, but I also stop by a small clothing boutique and pick out a proper date night outfit that I change into once I’m back at the campsite.

  “Italian works?” Dylan says, after picking me up from my campsite. I buckle up and watch as we pull away, leaving the little blue VW bus nestled between the trees.

  “It’s one of the many styles of food I can’t create in the bus, so yes.”

  He smiles and reaches out for my hand as he drives. A pit of nerves bundle in my stomach. “You know how you asked how long I was sticking around?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

  Dylan glances over quickly before returning his gaze back to the road. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

  Maybe this isn’t a good way to start off the date before it even begins.

  “I’m heading to the Mark Twain National Forest in Missouri next. I’m leaving in two days, so I can make a few stops along the way and explore a few more places.” I try to say the words as confidently as possible, making each sentence come out as fact and not up for debate, but even I hear myself question every word.

  His shoulders slump, and his smile wavers before he takes a breath and looks over at me. The corners of his lips lift.

  “Then we’ll just have to enjoy tonight,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before returning his gaze to the road.

  The date is possibly the nicest date I’ve been on in a long time. Not that I was dating lots of guys before this, but some dates in the past were just outright painful. This one is different in the sense that I don’t want it to end. Dylan talks a lot, which I’m thankful for because it feels like I’ve spent enough of our time together talking about myself and crying.

  Dylan insists we order dessert, so we pick out a slice of fresh apple pie with a hefty scoop of ice cream on the side.

  “So you do what exactly?” I ask.

  “Companies pay me to manage their social media pages. But not posts. Strictly ads. I go in and adjust the targeting, keywords, bid price. All that.”

  “Is it fun?” I ask.

  “It can be… monotonous. But it’s interesting, sorta like putting a puzzle together. Plus, the algorithms are always changing, so you’re always learning and trying out new things. What about you?”

  I take a scoop of the pie and ice cream, and take a bite before answering. “Not nearly as impressive. College dropout and my family recommended I quit my job to take this trip.”
I shrug my shoulders and realize how stupid the situation sounds. Ethan will be hearing from me after this if I can’t find a job.

  “Really?” Dylan asks, laughing now.

  “They practically shoved me in the bus and pushed me out the door,” I say.

  “So, hold on.” Dylan puts a hand up, smiling. He’s getting a kick out of it. I suppose it’s much funnier to an outsider who’d actually enjoy the opportunity. “This wasn’t your plan?”

  I shake my head. “My roommate has the entire trip mapped out for me. She knew about the entire thing. I flew out to visit family in Washington, and then they showed me the bus, told me it was mine, and basically did everything in their power to make sure I went through with it. So I canceled my flight home, and they told me all I had to do was drive home in the bus. That’s all they wanted.”

  Dylan’s fighting to keep his laughing to a minimum. “Okay, a few things. First, I’m jealous. And second, why were they so insistent?”

  I’m aware of the seriousness of the conversation before Dylan is. My smile diminishes, and I glance down at the table before looking back up at Dylan.

  His smile fades a little as he takes in my face.

  “I was stuck after my parents died. It was like I was reliving the same day over and over, trapped in a nightmare. I think they assume this will make me unstuck.”

  “They might have been onto something,” Dylan says, pushing the plate toward me to offer the last bite of pie. I take it, smiling, but Dylan stares back at me, deep in thought.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I broke my leg last year,” he says, shifting in his seat. “I was hiking in the winter, and I slipped and fell off a cliff. I was with my dad that day, and when he saw me fall, he thought I was a goner. It took six hours for rescuers to reach me and carry me out. The doctors said it was a miracle I didn’t lose anything to frostbite because it was so cold that day. For a couple months, I didn’t think I’d be able to hike anymore. Not just because of the injury, but because I was afraid of falling again. I don’t even know what happened that made me slip.”

  “When did you get back into it?” I ask.

  My voice pulls him back and it’s like I’ve flipped a switch in him to call his attention to the conversation again.

  “About a month ago,” he admits, covering his face a little. “That was actually the first Fourteener I’ve done since then.”

  My eyes go wide, and I try to rein in my reaction. If Dylan was at all freaked out during the Mount Elbert hike, he didn’t show it. Or maybe I was too busy paying attention to myself to notice. “You didn’t tell me that,” I say.

  “I didn’t want you to chicken out! Stacey was supposed to come and frankly, if she had called me earlier, I would have canceled the hike altogether. But you seemed excited to go, so I just went with it.”

  I shake my head, quietly laughing.

  “Look, the point I’m trying to get at is that I avoided a Fourteener for a very long time and built it up to be this big thing. Then, when I got out there, it was fine. And you’ll be fine too.”

  The waitress comes with our check and Dylan takes it, signing at the bottom and glancing up at me.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I say, but the words are light.

  “I didn’t want to freak you out,” he says. “Besides, I was trying to impress you.”

  §

  After dinner, Dylan pulls up to my camping spot, and there’s an awkward lull when he turns the engine off, and we both sit in silence with the woods around us getting darker by the second. Around us, campers already have their fires going for the night, providing a gentle glow.

  “Did you end up sorting through the pictures of the hike?” Dylan asks, turning in his seat to face me.

  I shift, a little surprised. “Yeah, I can send them to you if you want,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt.

  “Can I see them now?” he asks, his voice a little more serious. “If that’s okay?”

  I smile, trying to dispel any nerves. “Of course.”

  We both get out of the truck, and I unlock the bus, pulling the door open. I slide into the bench seat and bend down to retrieve my laptop from its hiding spot. I motion for Dylan to join me.

  “You can close the door if you’d like. It gets a little chilly at night otherwise,” I say as he scoots in beside me.

  Dylan leans forward to reach for the door and pulls it shut. The trees around us grow darker, and the pops from the surrounding campfires fill the air with the soft sounds of summer. A few campsites away, kids are skipping in the street with glow sticks. I reach up to turn on my fairy lights.

  “Mood lighting,” I say, turning to Dylan, trying to make a joke of it, but also hyperaware of the romantic atmosphere I just created, whether it was intentional or not.

  “Very cozy,” he says. He puts his arm behind me on top of the seat while I open my laptop and pull up the pictures. There are only a few inches of space separating us now.

  “Any photos in particular?” I ask, opening the folder.

  “I was more just curious about your photography skills. You carry around that camera everywhere, so I wanted to see what you do. Maybe I’ll see one of those in Snapshot Café soon.”

  I smile at the thought. “Anyone can carry around an expensive camera and take photos,” I say, sorting through some of my favorites. “The magic happens when you shoot in manual.” I pull up a photo I had taken at the summit. I’d rested the camera on a rock to use it as a makeshift tripod and pointed the camera to the horizon. From there, it was as simple as slowing down the shutter speed, adjusting the aperture, and getting the ISO just right. The result is a sky of clouds that look like silk. Some of the clouds float between mountain peaks, giving the entire picture a magical essence. The mountains are a sharp contrast against the clouds. Using the shutter speed to make clouds look softer was my favorite type of photo to take back home. I considered them my specialty, but I can only take them when the weather conditions are a perfect balance of wind and clouds.

  “Wow,” Dylan says.

  I smile when I glance over and see his eyes full of wonder. I switch to the next photo—the two of us on the summit. We look like two people who have known each other for years with how casually we’re touching, not two people who were only meeting for the second time.

  “Can you send me that one?” Dylan asks, pointing to the photo of both of us.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, dragging and dropping the photo into a text message.

  “Leaves me with a little souvenir. I thought we’d at least get one more hike in,” Dylan says. The words catch me off guard.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, mostly because I’m not sure what else to say.

  I want to stay, but for the wrong reasons. When I’m with Dylan, I feel safe, but I know what my family wants, and that’s for me to stand on my own.

  “No, it’s okay.” His arm that’s resting on the seat behind me comes forward until he wraps it around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. There’s no space between us now. “I’ll see you in New Hampshire,” he says, trying to assure me.

  “Are you sure you want to come all that way?” I ask.

  “Unless you don’t want me to,” he says, his grip around my shoulders automatically loosening.

  “No, I do, I just…” I pause because it’s one of those embarrassing things to admit. “I don’t know why—”

  He doesn’t let me finish. He kisses me, stopping the words from coming. The kiss is soft, and I melt into it immediately. There’s nothing between us now, and I revel in the moment until he finally pulls away.

  “That’s why,” he says, his face still inches from mine.

  This time it’s me who leans forward. I kiss him again, pulling him to me. He puts his hand on my cheek, holding me there while the rest of the world melts away.

  I
pull back, but only enough to look at him. “You’re okay with me leaving so soon?”

  His eyes are half-closed, and he smiles. “I would ask you to stay, but I don’t want to risk your family showing up and pushing you and the bus down the road to get you to leave.”

  I laugh, but also wonder at just how far my family would take things.

  “I’m only worried about you hiking alone,” he says, his voice low.

  “I’ve hiked alone before,” I say.

  “You know what I mean,” he says. I don’t respond, and he shifts. “I just don’t want what happened on Mount Elbert to happen when you’re alone.”

  I nod, painfully aware of that possibility. “I could say I won’t go hiking, but that ruins the entire point of the trip.” A new round of worry builds inside me, and Dylan rubs my shoulder, reminding me to relax. I take a deep breath and feel my muscles loosen, not realizing how much tension I’ve been carrying.

  “You can try calling me when you get to the halfway point of your hike, or something. Or call whenever you want, even if you just need me to talk you through it.”

  “I can do that,” I say. “But what if there is no signal?”

  “Just sit and breathe. Think about something that makes you happy. Actually, even better.” Dylan leans forward and grabs my phone off the table. There’s no passcode on it, so he opens it right away and goes to the app store. “This is a meditation app. You don’t have to use it to meditate, but if you can’t call me, open the app, and work through the breathing exercises. Then, just turn around and head back to the bus. Don’t think about whether you should turn around or not. Just do it.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because thinking about turning around makes the anxiety worse,” he says. “If you set conditions on when to turn around ahead of time, you save yourself the worry.”

  The app downloads to my phone, and Dylan hands it over. I move it to the main page of my phone, so it will be easy to access.

  “How do you know all this?” I ask.

  He looks away, and when he finally turns back to me, he looks embarrassed. “It used to happen to me. The first hike I went on after my leg was all healed up, I had an anxiety attack. I didn’t know what it was, just that it felt like I couldn’t breathe or think clearly.”