On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5) (27 page)

“I’m sorry to have bothered you with
all that. I was unconscious, um but I’m okay now. It was pretty scary. A girl I
was with died.” The line went quiet for a beat. “The nurse just called the
person on file. I’m so embarrassed. I’ll be in rehab for thirty days. I’m sorry
that I was so nasty to you. I’ll try calling you when I get out, but if you
don’t want to talk, I understand. Oh and uh, I owe you some money for the
crystal decanter and a few other things. I promise I’ll pay you back.”

Stunned, Baskia stayed in the
car, going over everything Kate had said. After she finally pulled herself onto
the sidewalk, she spent the next hour seeking distraction from the news. She
knit and watched over Maisy. She kept up a running dialog about a trip she’d
once taken to Australia and some cute koalas.

Once back at the cabin, Baskia
set out a cheese platter with grapes, figs, and crackers. She made Pepper
promise to be a good host, and planted herself on the couch, knitting needles
in hand, eager to complete the afghan.

She waited and waited. As a half-hour
turned into an hour, she wondered if her parents had hit traffic. As an hour
turned into two, she recalled Christmas and wondered if they were actually
going to visit at all. She sighed, supposing it didn’t matter. Perhaps, they’d
failed her, but she hadn’t failed herself and she was through waiting, for
them, for Trace, and for her future to begin. “The time to be happy and live is
now.” Calling Pepper to her side, she pulled on her sneakers, and went to take
their evening walk.

When she returned, a black Lexus
sat in the driveway. Soft light glowed from inside the cabin. She opened the
door to find her mother rearranging things on the counter.

“There you are. We started to get
worried. We thought you’d be here when we arrived.”

“I—” She was about to argue, to
say that she was there, that they were late, as usual, but it was pointless;
her mother had already launched into plans for the weekend, but then startled.

“What’s that?!” She gasped when
Pepper came out from behind Baskia and sniffed Anne’s hand.

“This is Pepper. He’s my dog.”

“What? You got a dog? I told you,
no dogs.”

“Yeah, when I was ten. Um. In
case you forgot I’m an adult.”

“Then you should start acting
like one, none of this ditching college and—living here.” Anne gestured wildly
with both hands and then took a sip of wine.

“Here we go. Did it even occur to
you that I not only survived a winter up here, alone, in this cabin, but I
thrived. I learned more in this past year than I ever would have back in the
City or at Columbia. I saved myself. I saved Pepper. I made friends, and we’re
all the better for it.”

“I don’t see how anything you
could possibly do here would improve your life in any way. Now, I was on the
phone with Violet Sinclair the other day, you know, Dane’s mother, and we were
thinking it would be nice for the two of you to get to—”

“You don’t get it, do you?”
Baskia spoke the exact words she’d been repeating since she was thirteen. She
studied her mother carefully, trying to detect in her the desire to connect, to
be closer, and to grow stronger in their relationship. “I want you to say,
'Then help me understand you.' But, you won’t. You want everything to be
perfect so you don’t have to look underneath the myth of what money can buy and
see your own failings and shortcomings. How you skipped out on your dreams just
to wait around at home for dad to get back from work or to get a bonus so you
can go buy things to show off to your so-called friends.”

“Friends? Last I knew your
friends were a bunch of druggies who pose as models. You ditched any real
friend you ever had when you turned your back on Mellie.”

“Oh and you’ve never made a
mistake?” Baskia glared at her mother, penetrating layer after layer of
stubborn denial. “Also, for your information, she and I have reconciled.”

“I don’t know what has gotten
into you young lady. I’m disappointed. And when your father is done with his
conference call, he’s going to be too.”

Baskia stared at her mother,
aghast. “Maybe I was born to be the exact opposite of you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Baskia wanted to storm into her
room and slam the door, but her dad was in there on his laptop, working like
always. A stiff surge of resentment tightened her jaw. She called Pepper to her
side, and they took off into the twilight.

She padded to the end of the dock
and sat down, listening to the chorus of crickets beckoning summer. Pepper
nuzzled next to her, resting his chin on his paws. “Whoever said dogs are man’s
best friend had it wrong,” she said, rubbing her hands in his fur. “You’re my
bestie beastie.” She gazed at the glassy water and thought fondly of Wes and
Mellie, Daniella, Patty, Mary, and possibly even Kate as best friends too.

She shivered, knowing she’d have
to go inside soon and try to smooth things over so the weekend wouldn’t be a
total waste. As she strolled back to the cabin, taking her time, she realized
that no, she didn’t have to. Baskia hopped in the BMW, tapping the seat so
Pepper would jump in, and whizzed down the mountain road. Glancing at the time
on the dash, she had a half-hour remaining for visiting hours at the nursing
home.

“Promise to be a good boy,”
Baskia said and they dashed inside.

Taking a seat beside Maisy’s bed,
she said, “You know, I just need someone to listen to me. I know it isn’t your
job, and there are probably tons of things you’d rather hear than me venting,
but it’s like my parents don’t get me. At all. I know most teenagers feel that
way when they hit a rough patch and there’s a power struggle, but my mom and
dad don’t even try, and I’m not some rebellious teen anymore. I’ve been working
since I was fifteen, even keeping up with school, of course with the help of
tutors. I know I probably sound like a spoiled rich kid. Maybe I am. But I know
for sure that taking this year was the right thing to do. Maybe that’s all I
need to know, that I made the right choice for me. That I approve of—” She
sighed, gazing at the sleeping girl, possibly dreaming of long walks in the
woods, sunshine, laughter. “—that I approve of me. Maybe that’s enough.”

“It is. I’m sure of it,” said a
voice from behind her.

“Wes.”

“I just came by to say goodnight.
I thought your parents were visiting.”

“They are. We had a fight.”

“Let me guess, they have an idea
for how they want your life to go, it doesn’t match yours, and so you’re at an
impasse.”

“Same old story. I came up here
to figure out what I wanted from my life. I found you guys. I found myself. And
now whatever I do next, I welcome it, because I know who I am now and with that,
I believe I can do anything or continue to grow or just camp out in the cabin
for the rest of my days,” she said in an outpouring.

“So their problem is...”

“Me.”

“I’m sure they love you.”

Baskia shrugged. “They don’t show
it. I was just telling Maisy that I probably sound like your typical—what?” she
asked, interrupting herself at the sight of a big grin spreading across Wes’s
face.

“I love that you include her. It
means a lot to me.” They both looked at Maisy, as if she’d just dozed off,
tired of the conversation. “Believe it or not my dad wanted me to take over the
family business, be a builder. I wanted to be a designer. We’d argue over it.
He put pressure on me, but I wanted to go to college. Kind of the opposite of
your situation. Now I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“It does though. He’d want you to
do what’s going to make you happy. I just wish my parents did too. And for the
record, I do want to go to college, but with my own agenda, not aboard my
mother’s social-climbing-program.”

Wes chuckled. “Fair enough. But
listen, for Maisy and I, our mom and dad are gone. I’ll never know if my dad
would have been proud when I received my diploma on graduation day.”

Baskia sighed, glancing at the
clock. She turned to go, “I know he would; and if not him, me. Thanks for
listening, both of you.”

Taking her time returning to the
cabin, Baskia snuck down to the basement, and promptly fell asleep.

The next day, she woke to find
her parents gone, presumably antiquing. She went about her usual routine, an
early morning smoothie, a long walk with Pepper followed by food prep and work
on her blog. In the afternoon, she was rolling up her yoga mat when she heard
the car pull into the driveway. She had a strawberry tart on the counter,
cooling, so she could photograph it.

Anne marched in, exclaiming,
“What is that wonderful smell?”

Pepper howled.

Baskia didn’t look up from her
camera as Anne fussed around the living room, talking all the while.

“Your father and I found a
marvelous turn of the century credenza that will look lovely in the foyer in
Manhattan. We found a cute little café for lunch; they even had a Cobb salad.
Up here, if you believe it. I was just telling Violet that you can’t find a
good—” She went silent.

Baskia aimed her camera at her
mother, clicking. Capturing her mid-sentence, her eyes wide, self-consciously
brushing an invisible hair from her face.

“What are you doing, dear? I
thought it was peculiar that you were photographing your food, but why me?”

“Because when you’re not paying
attention, you’re beautiful, Mom.” Those were the last words she expected to
tumble out of her mouth, but they were true.

The cabin was quiet, except for
the clicking of the keyboard from the other room. William must have slipped in
behind Anne when they returned, going straight back to work.

Anne Benedict was silent.

Baskia picked up the square of
mirror she used in her photography set-up to amplify the light. “Take a look at
yourself. A good look. What do you see?”

Anne’s eyes grew soft, her lips
parted, and she reached out for her reflection, but she didn’t utter a word.

“I see a woman reaching for
something that’s unattainable outside of herself. Perfection. Approval.
Significance. Those were all the things I sought to figure out while I was up
here. Unravel the messages you gave me about who you wanted me to be and find
out who I really am. I’ve learned that I’m already perfect and imperfect at the
same time. That I have to approve of myself first. And significance, I can only
assign it to myself. Getting a degree from a prestigious college doesn’t make
me any more important than I already am. It’s what I did to get that degree and
what I will do with it once I leave those classrooms that matters.” Baskia put
the mirror back on the table. Stepping outside, she called Pepper, and they set
off into the woods.

Baskia hoped her words penetrated
years of refusal, of quiet deception, and a lost sense of self. And that she’d
pierced the veil Anne wore identifying herself as a society woman, eager to
show the world just how perfect the life she created was. Compassion had washed
over her, standing in the kitchen in front of the frail and desperately
composed woman dressed in a blue blazer and slacks, with nary a hair out of
place. It was some of Baskia’s strength that her mom needed then, maybe she had
to show her mom how capable and courageous she’d become.

The shadows were long when Baskia
returned to the cabin, Pepper by her side. She washed up and prepared the
dinner of grilled shrimp, over fluffy polenta with Gouda and a creamy spinach
sauce. She set the table, her father sequestered in the bedroom behind the glow
of his computer. As for Anne, Baskia thought maybe she was lying down.

“Dinner,” she called.

Pepper wagged his tail as she set
out his dish.

Baskia wished she shared the meal
with Trace. He’d enjoy it. She remembered him sitting in the chair across from
her, leaning back easily, smiling as he sipped wine. It seemed so far away,
like another lifetime. She wondered if he’d only lived in her imagination,
company for her lonely and confused mind when she’d first arrived on the
mountain.

Finally, her father emerged from
the room and sat down, taking a bite as he unfolded the newspaper.

“Hey,” she said after her food
was nearly gone. Anne still hadn’t appeared, and William intently read an
article. “I said, hey. For all Mom goes on about manners, yours really suck. I
made you dinner. The least you could do is acknowledge that it tastes good or—I
don’t know, put down your paper, interact, connect.”

William put his fork down and
neatly folded the paper. He took off his glasses to reveal softness in his
eyes. “All you had to do was ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always thought you guys were
caught up in your own lives and didn’t want to bother with me.” He looked at
her earnestly, giving her his full attention.

That, she didn’t expect.

“I guess so. A little bit. But I
don’t think you’ve said more than two words to me in as many years.”

“I wished you happy birthday.”

“Like I said, two words, and that
was in an email. Dad, I know you’re a busy man. I know you’re married to your
career, and mom, which seems like it would be a lot like a second full-time
job. But you know, a friend of mine unexpectedly lost his father last year.
They got along great, except I guess when it came to his future, which seems
like a common problem, but he’ll never know what his dad wanted for him. You’re
still alive, and I have no idea what you want for me. I don’t know if you agree
with Mom and silently support her pushing me toward a life of her design; or if
you even care at all.”

William looked taken aback. “Of
course I care, why do you think I work so hard? I want you to have everything.
I want you to be happy.”

“Are
you
happy?” Baskia
asked.

“I’m happy if my family is
happy.”

“I can’t speak for anyone other
than myself, but moving forward, the thing I want the most, what would really
make me happiest, you can’t buy with plastic.”

“Baskia, I’m sorry. I’ve heard
you and your mother arguing over the last months. Okay, year. I stay out of it.
I guess I’m afraid to mettle. You women scare me. But it’s time I got over
that. Tell me, where do we start?”

Baskia and her dad chatted for
the next two hours, moving from the table to the sofa, Pepper resting between
them. Baskia told him about all the people she’d met, her and Mellie’s wild
time, and she even mentioned Trace. She asked him about work, probing him to
find out what exactly he did, it had largely been a mystery to her.

“My official title is chief legal
officer. I head the law department of one of the largest multinationals.”

“Sounds important, fancy even.”

“It pays the bills,” he said
dismissively as if the conversation they’d been having was far more compelling
than legalese. “You’ve told me what you’ve been doing. The million dollar
question, what do you want to do? I know Anne’s been on you about it. But I
haven’t heard her ask you.”

Baskia couldn’t contain the smile
that stretched wide across her face. “For one, I’m going to continue to ride
this modeling thing while I can. But I also love food and photography, so maybe
I can translate that into something viable. Next fall, you’ll see me on the
class roster at Columbia. Mostly, I’m going to see where life takes me. Maybe
I’ll study health and nutrition, or photography and design. Perhaps both.”

“I suppose there’s no rush to
choose. I know that if your mother were to do it all over again, she’d have
stuck with her career. It made her happy. I think it still could. Although it
seems like she puts herself first, I believe she wants to see you and Will
settled and secure before she returns to her own interests.”

Just then, Anne crept into the
room. Tears stained her face. She sat on the couch, between her husband and
daughter, and pulled them into a hug.