“I missed you,” I say, kissing her golden head as we nearly run to the luggage carousel.
She looks up at me with rosy cheeks, her smile rivaling the California sunshine. “I missed you more.”
My laugh is jovial. “I find that hard to believe. I haven’t slept much lately because I’ve missed you so much. You were always on my mind.”
“Mine too.”
I’m impressed by Keri’s luggage. When we spoke last night, I hadn’t realized she was in Atlanta visiting her girlfriends and hadn’t had time to return to Heartsboro and pack. Luckily, her friend Candace and her husband, both avid hikers and skiers, pitched in. Early that morning, Keri and Candace pulled clothes and footwear from closets and drawers. They packed as many essentials as possible. Whatever Candy couldn’t supply, I assured Keri we could buy along the way. I expected several huge bags. Instead, they fit everything into two small roller bags and a backpack.
“I hope you have room in the van for all my stuff. Candace and I tried really hard to pack conservatively.”
“I expected a lot more. You did great. There’s plenty of room, Angel Face.” She walks taller, clearly pleased.
“I emailed Madison before my flight took off this morning to let her know I was going to be on the road for at least two weeks and asked if she could keep an eye on things. When I landed, I saw her response, and she told me not to worry about anything. If something comes up, I’ll forward the information to her. We need to find a fun gift to bring home to her as a thank you.”
“Of course we will. What a great friend.”
“Totally great.”
We arrive at my van, where Molly sticks her nose out of the cracked driver’s side window. I say, “Hey, girl. Look who I’ve got.” I open the door. Molly jumps out, circles Keri, then stops, as if waiting for her to scratch her furry neck.
“Hey, Molly. How are you?” She digs into her fur with happiness.
We walk around to the other side, and I slide the panel door open and place the luggage inside. “Looks like someone else missed you.”
Keri kneels and wraps her arms around Molly, the perpetual smile on her face, adorable. “I missed her too.”
I slide the door shut and open the passenger door. Molly immediately hops up into the seat.
“Oh, no,” Keri moans. “That’s Molly’s seat. I can’t take it away from her.”
“Of course you can. She can sit in the middle.”
“But doesn’t she like to stick her head out the window?”
I scratch my chin. “Well, yeah, she does. She might get on your lap a bit to do that, but for the most part, she likes to sleep on long drives. She’ll be fine between us.”
“We can share,” Keri says.
I watch her climb into the van. “Scootch over, Molly.” My big dog hangs off one side of the captain’s chair, resting her snout on Keri’s lap. “Good girl.”
Once I’m in the driver’s seat, I start the van and roll down the windows. I can’t believe Keri is here, ready to take on the greatest adventure of our lives.
“Time to get this party started.”
After I booked Keri’s plane ticket, I got to work and mapped out our itinerary. I planned detours into parks, scenic areas, and beautiful towns along the way. Since we’re starting in California, I figured the perfect highlight would be Yosemite National Park. The towering granite cliffs, waterfalls, and dozens of iconic hikes make this the ideal first stop on the eastbound route. It’s four hours from San Francisco, and we have a great time buzzingthrough the lovely Gold Rush town of Mariposa, where we stop for a quick bite to eat. We continue through the Merced River Canyon and watch tourists float on the lazy river before I give her a quick overview of the Valley Floor. This is the most famous seven square miles in the park, known for its incredible views.
“We’ll have to come back in the late winter or early spring so you can see some of the colorful wildflowers this region is famous for. I’ve captured thousands of photographs of them over the years.”
Molly is asleep on the floor between us. The open window blows strands of Keri’s long hair around her face. “I would love that.”
We arrive at our destination, and I opt for the shortest hike around Mirror Lake so I won’t wear her out on our first day, especially after her long flight. With Molly on a leash, we hold hands and take in the natural beauty.
“Why is it called Mirror Lake?” Keri asks.
“It’s the reflection on the water, like a mirror, see?” I point to the stunning lake. “The surrounding granite cliffs of Half Dome and Mount Watkins reflect in the water. It’s also a seasonal lake because it changes so much throughout the year.”
“What do you mean?”
