The guide told us how to differentiate the different species based on their spot patterns. Some had much darker brown spots across their tan bodies, while others had liver-colored spots with lighter lines between.
I caught Brooke’s eye.
“I know it’s not Africa, but...” I trailed off.
“Oh Cade,” she croaked, and I saw the tears welling in her eyes. “It’s everything.”
After disembarked fromthe safari truck, I bought us bottles of water and we settled into the picnic area to rest.
“Is it called—?” Brooke asked in disbelief.
“Yep.” I smiled. “The Grove. Little different than home though, right?” I chuckled as we both thought of our childhood neighborhood—also called The Grove. Some coincidences were too magical to feel true.
After a bit of rest we finished our day at the Cheetah run. The handlers introduced the beautiful animal and gave details about its long, lithe body, its tail that acted like a ship’s rudder for speedy maneuvering, and its large dog-like paws with semi-retractable claws.
The cheetahs were referred to as park “ambassadors,” raising awareness and educating guests from the around the world. The cheetahs were also paired up with a dog companion, a large breed that is raised alongside the cheetah from birth and provides a calming sense of support for the wild animal. I wrapped my arm around Brooke and pulled her close. I knew we were both thinking of our own special dog companions at home.
When the run began, the handlers had a retractable lure of a prey-like stuffed animal for the cheetah to chase. Once the cheetah was released, it was mere seconds of lightning-fast speed as the cheetah raced to the end of the enclosure.
As we walked back to my car, my arm around Brooke, I leaned down to her ear.
“Good surprise?” I asked, my tone hopeful.
“There—are really no words. Best surprise of my life.”
I beamed in satisfaction.
30
BROOKE
Leaving him got harder every time. These weekend snippets were never enough. I knew soon we’d be back to phone calls and text streams, inevitably interrupted by both our busy shift jobs.
My small roller suitcase was packed, and I was crouched down scratching Echo’s ears, avoiding meeting Cade’s eyes.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me up to him. “Hey,” he said softly, reading the emotion on my face. “We’ll be okay. You’ll call me when your flight lands, right?”
I nodded.
He wrapped me in a hug, his cheek pressed against mine.
“I love you, Brooke.” The words still felt new to my ears, but the emotions behind them had been building—for both of us—for some time.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back, furiously fighting the tears that filled my eyes. “It’s not fair,” I bemoaned, heart in my throat.
Why couldn’t he live closer? After all these years, we’d finally found our way back to each other. So why couldn’t it just magically fall into place for us?
“I know it’s not.” He brushed my hair from my face. “But it’s what we’ve got. For now,” he assured me. “I’ll come to Boston as soon as I can.”
But he didn’t come,and I didn’t make it back to California, either. We’d taken too much time off work that calendar year, and we’d both depleted all of our savings on plane tickets.
The next few months we struggled with the frustrations of a long-distance relationship—missed calls and texts, conflicting shifts, differing time zones. We did our best with texts and FaceTime, but we both felt the strain.
Our relationship at times became a series of missed calls and voicemails.
By Christmas time it had been nearly four months since we’d seen each other in person. We’d all be in Vermont for the holidays. My mom was heading back to Vermont and having Christmas with Owen and me, and Cade would be flying in to see his parents. Cade and I resolved to squeeze in some kind of alone time, despite both only having a few days in the same state.
Whit and I drove to Birch Hollow with Ivy in tow.
