“I want to travel during the off-season. And live here on my land during tourist season so I can keep working for Uncle Silas.”
I love my job. It’s one of my favorite parts of my life, even though I think it was good to take a step back this fall, have more of a work-life balance instead of scheduling every open hike I could. Uncle Silas has more employees now, and that means I can still work for him and get to see my family and friends while I’m home too.
But during the off-season, I don’t need to stay here. Not now that Mom and Dad have sold the farm, now that they have free time and the ability to split care of Grandma. They’ve made it clear they don’t need me to step in as much, and I finally feel okay about doing it.
“What do you think?” I ask them.
“We’ll miss you, of course,” Dad says.
Mom nods. “But this feels right, doesn’t it?”
My throat grows tight, thinking about everything changing. It would if I stayed or went. But my mom is right.
“It feels right,” I tell her.
For the first time I can remember, the life I’m choosing feels right.
Imakemyselfgeta few hours of sleep before I hitch the Airstream to my truck and drive it off my land for the first time since purchasing it years ago. I’m itching to get on the road. It will take me two days to get to Montana, and I already found somewhere I could park overnight to sleep.
But I have a stop to make first.
I probably should have come before I hitched the Airstream to the truck, but when I pull up in front of Wren’s house and she catches sight of it from the window, she comes running out. Her hair is a mess, but her eyes are bright, and her smile is pure sunshine.
After putting the truck in park, I climb out. She stands a few feet away, and the closer I come, I can see the tears in her eyes. She knows what this means.
“You’re leaving.” She’s crying, but there’s nothing but happiness on her face.
I nod, throat thick. This is what I want, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss what I’m leaving behind. Who I’m leaving behind.
“Are you going to Jack?”
Just the sound of his name sends my heart racing, galloping off in my chest. “Yes,” I answer. “I have a proposal for him. Summers and autumns here, winters and springs wherever we want.”
“What do you think he will say?”
I think about him looking at job listings last night, trying to find something close to here, close to me. “I think he will like it.” I swallow, resolution filling me. “But if he doesn’t, I still want to do it. For myself.”
I want Jack, but not more than anything. I want to do this with him, but more than that, I want to dothis. I want to finally get to travel, wander the way I didn’t get to when I was eighteen.
“I’m proud of you,” she says, and it settles somewhere deep inside of me. I’m proud of me, too, for finally taking a chance. I know it’s what she’s been pushing me to do for so long.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her. “What you did with Holden. Loving him, loving his daughter, becoming a mother to June and Wilder, it was brave. You’re so brave, Wren. You’ve always made me want to be better.”
She grips me then, in a tight hug. Her hair sticks to my face, in my mouth, just like always, and I spit it out. Tears are coating both our cheeks. I hold her tighter, not wanting to let go.
“I’ll be back soon.”
She pulls back, her hands still on my arms. Her smile is wobbly, her eyes coated in a sheen of silver. “Call me when you get there. I want to hear everything.”
When Jack calls that night, I don’t tell him I’m in Wisconsin, staying at a campground somewhere between Madison andMilwaukee. I don’t let on that I’m exhausted from driving all day. I could tell him, but I want it to be a surprise. He made a grand gesture with theI love youand telling me he wanted to move to be close to me. I want my turn to make mine. To make him feel as worthy as he has always made me feel.
We don’t talk long before I’m nodding off, and I hang up the phone, passing out in my bed, the view out my window finally something different than the trees and mountains that have always been there.
In the morning, before the sunrises, I get a breakfast burrito and hit the road. It will be late when I make it to Larkspur, and I have a full day of travel ahead of me. I probably should have broken the trip up into three days, but I didn’t want to wait. Now that I know what I want, I want it right now.
The road stretches out before me, the landscape changing from plains to forests and hills. Frozen lakes and thickly packed snow. When I cross into North Dakota, the land stretches out as far as I can see, melting into the horizon. I’ve never seen land so flat. I’ve stood atop mountains, looking out at the world ahead, but this feels different. Wider, more expansive. Endless.
My heart hammers when I cross the state line into Montana, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. In high school, I had a poster on my wall of Glacier National Park, a vintage drawing of Going-to-the-Sun road. This part of Montana, however, looks nothing like that. The road ahead is much the same as it was in North Dakota, but still, I can’t believe I’m actually here, a place I dreamed about for so long.
