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I pin the phone between my ear and shoulder as I throw open the doors. “I should be there for…”
But I trail off, the doors spreading wide and the view looming in front of me.
My mouth drops open. Suddenly, I’m an inch tall.
“You should do what you need to do,” Mirai replies.
But I barely register what she says. I stare ahead, absently stepping onto my large wooden deck as I take in the expanse before me that I didn’t notice in the dark the night before.
My heart thumps against my chest.
So that’s “the peak.” It didn’t cross my mind that the town was named so for a reason.
In the distance, in perfect view between the trees beyond my balcony, stands a mountain, its granite peak gray and foreboding, skirted with green pines and topped with white clouds that make the scene so beautiful I stop breathing for a moment.
Holy shit.
It’s just there. A cathedral, sitting in front of a blue sky, and before I can stop myself, I raise my hand, reaching out for it like I want to take it in my fist, but all I can feel is the morning air breeze through my fingers.
I inhale, the smell of the earth and stone drifting through my nose even from here, the memory of the dead animal smell from last night forgotten. The scent of water hangs in the air, fresh but musty where it soaks into the soil and rock, and I inhale again, closing my eyes.
The hairs on my arms rise.
I need to leave now. I don’t want to get used to that smell, because it’ll stop being special before long.
“If you want to be here for the funeral, then be here,” Mirai goes on as if I still care about anything we were discussing. “If you don’t, I don’t think anyone will question the only daughter of Hannes and Amelia de Haas if she’s too distraught by the sudden death of both parents to attend the funeral.”
I open my eyes, part of me wanting to smile and part of me disappointed in myself, because I k
now I won’t leave. Not today, anyway. I raise my eyes and look at the peak, not wanting to stop looking at that view yet.
I swallow, remembering Mirai. “Thanks,” I tell her. “I’ll take a few days and think about what I’ll do.”
The funeral wasn’t for four or five more days, at least. People from around the world would need time to get to California, as well as all the arrangements that had to be made. I had time.
“I love you, Tiernan,” she says.
I pause. She’s the only one who says that to me.
All the memories come flooding back, except now I catch things I didn’t catch before.
All the times she—not my mother or father—called me at school to see if I needed anything. All the presents under the tree I know she—not them—bought for me and the birthday cards she signed for them. All the R-rated movies she got me into that I couldn’t otherwise, and all the travel books she’d leave in my bag, because she knew they were my favorite things to read.
The first pair of dangling earrings I ever owned were a gift from her.
And I fucking nod through the phone, because that’s all I do.
“Breathe, okay?” she adds.
“Bye.”
I hang up, needles pricking my throat, and continue to stare at the beautiful view, my hair blowing in the soft breeze and the wild smell of the air so much like a drug. Heady.
A woodpecker hollows out a tree in the distance, and the wind sweeps through the aspens and pines, the forest floor growing darker the deeper the woods go until I can’t see anything anymore.
Do they hike? Jake, Noah, and Kaleb? Do they ever venture farther into the forest? Take time to explore?
A chainsaw cuts through the silence, loud and buzzing, and I blink, the spell broken. Turning around, I drop my phone on the bed and walk for one of my suitcases, digging out my toiletry bag. Walking for the door, I squeeze the handle, slowly twisting it.
