He knew how a man, a real man, treated a partner. His father had loved his mother with devotion. He’d trusted her absolutely,and she’d trusted him the same. His father never faltered when his mother went through chemotherapy, when she vomited, when she lost too much weight, when she slept for hours a day, or when she lost her hair. His father’s love never wavered. Not for one minute.
Dagr wanted that. Desperately wanted that.
He should try a dating app.
Or maybe he should just get a dog.
seventeen
BÉBHINN
Snowdonia Way Mountain Route
Daily Journal
Day 9
Bethesda To Conwy
Distance: 17.9 miles (28.9 km)
Total Ascent: 1,134 m (3,720.4 ft)
4:47 am
Since I decided to fully forgive you, I feel lighter this morning—and nostalgic. Remember when you, me, and Mom would binge The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings movies when I was little?
It’s one of my favorite memories.
So, how’s this for you? “Not all those who wander are lost.” Bilbo Baggins got me thinking. I realized that you aren’t lost, only wandering. I will see you again.
I can live with that.
My stomach hasn’t stopped fluttering. More so than on any other day. There are days it feels like you’ve been gone for years, and others that feel like it’s only been hours. I think the fluttering is because I woke up thinking about what you meant to me, what you’ll always mean to me, and I felt…happy.
I need to call Nan. No need to scold me. I know I need to visit my grandma. I miss her, and with the exception of Mom, she’ll be the happiest to know I’m doing better. Since Pa Dunn passed, I haven’t made nearly enough time for my namesake. I swear that woman has the second sight.
I’ve avoided thinking about where you are, but now that I’m coming to terms with our new relationship, I wondered if you get to see Grandma and Grandpa O. I bet your folks were so mad at you for being there too early.
Today is going to be a great day. Watch out for me, Dad.
Seriously, though, I feel like something important is coming my way.
Wish me luck! I love you.
B
Bébhinn felt her stiff shoulders tense further as the same feeling of being watched swept her back. Why today of all days? She’d even bragged in her journal about the epic last stage.
She’d started early. It had been dark except for the clear moonlight when she’d left the bunkhouse. The weather was enough of a concern to make her push hard.
Alternating between a jog and a swift walk, she managed to cover eight miles before lunch. Her pace wasn’t the problem. The darkening sky and the ever-present creeping sensation of being watched were bringing down the day. However, she hadn’t felt like eyes were on her for over two hours.
The creeper vibes could have been her nerves talking. The weather was not holding like the weather reports had predicted early this morning. An hour ago, she’d ensured her emergency Garmin locator was active just in case.
She was pushing her body hard because she wanted to reach the rough bunkhouse before dark, and she should, easily. The question was whether to blow by the night’s shelter in the hopes of beating the storm, or at least get closer to Conwy and her ride back to her Jeep.
The bunkhouse had no water or electricity, but it did have a roof and a door, and a cot. If she didn’t beat the weather, the alternative was sleeping rough. She had a tarp, but the black and gray clouds gathering above didn’t bode well for a dry night’s sleep if she didn’t make Conwy.
