On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5) (28 page)

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

For the next thirty-six hours,
Anne, William, and Baskia spent an unprecedented amount of time together,
talking and knitting; Anne hadn’t tried in twenty-five years, but picked it
right back up. They walked the trails behind the cabin and even visited Maisy.
Baskia showed them the life she’d created and realized she’d figured out who
she was apart from the shroud of familial expectations. With the sound of her
father whistling, and Pepper trotting by her mother’s side, she knew they
rather liked that little slice of country life too, so long as they could wash
the mud from their boots and return to the City.

On Monday afternoon, after
admiring Baskia’s blog and photography, they all pitched in to prepare the
barbecue as Mary, Daniella, Wes, and Patty arrived. The dread Baskia had
carried the days leading up to that weekend dissipated as the sun shone on her
face; at the sound of Anne and Mary’s laughter over a book they’d both read,
and the smell of the charcoal grill. She looked at those surrounding her, at
her biological family and chosen family, wishing her brother and Mellie were
there, praying Maisy would wake up, and hopeful for London’s recovery.

She plucked a daisy from the
planter on the deck, studying its simple beauty. A desire, as soft and small as
one of the flower’s petals, rose up in her. She longed for Trace to be there
too, he was the missing piece. “He loves, me he loves me not…” she started,
counting the petals.

After strawberry shortcake for
dessert, her mother pulled her aside. They walked down to the lake, Pepper at
their heels. “I always hoped this cabin would be a special place for our
family. Now it is. You get credit for that.” A rare smile of approval and
gratitude blossomed across her face. “For a long time I didn’t understand what
you were doing. I was afraid it was going to amount to nothing. But some of the
things we do aren’t quantifiable by money or prestige. I’m proud of you, and I
respect you too.” She wrapped her arms around her daughter, in a rare show of
affection.

“Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to
me.”

“I’ll be a better listener from
now on. I understand your father has spent all this time listening, letting me
do the talking. I suppose we should go for middle ground.” She paused, gazing
out at the still lake. A bird swooped toward the water and then took flight
again. “For a long time, I thought that I had failed, walked away from my
career. That translated into me being afraid you’d fail too. But you’ve
succeeded in so many ways.”

“You didn’t fail, Mom. I’d say
Will and I turned out okay. But you can’t live vicariously through us or in
dad’s shadow.”

She laughed, petting Pepper who
sat between them on the dock. “I suppose so. There were a few bumps in the
road.”

“There always are.”

They chatted easily for a few
more minutes, Anne offering Baskia use of the penthouse while she was at
Columbia. She mentioned there’d be more room for Pepper, and she could have a
rooftop garden, as long as she promised no parties. Baskia gladly obliged.

That evening, she lingered in the
stone driveway, long after her parents had pulled away. She was sad to see them
go.

Turning back to the house, she
finished cleaning up, still feeling as if somehow, her mom and dad, Patty and
Mary, Wes and Daniella were still with her. Perhaps they always would be. And
then there was Trace. She opened her journal, reading his lines of promise. It
was time to let go. He wasn’t coming. Across the top of a new page, she wrote:

What Tracey Wolfe taught me
without meaning to:

1.
                 
Patience.

2.
                 
Coffee,
eggs, and lasagna tastes better when someone else makes it, but I can find my
way around the kitchen just fine now, thank you very much.

3.
                 
Laughter
from the belly is the best kind.

4.
                 
I’m
sexy.

5.
                 
I’m
part of something greater than myself, part of someone else, but always very
much me.

6.
                 
It’s
important to get in good and deep in conversation with myself about important
things like what I want.

7.
                 
Tattoos
are hot.

8.
                 
We
humans are never one-dimensional. There are layers and layers. (Kind of like an
onion.)

9.
                 
I’m
lucky.

10.
             
There’s
someone in the world that I love.

^^^

As spring gave way to summer with
longer days, greener grass, and blossoming flowers, Baskia had a funny thought
while helping the very-pregnant Daniella with some stretches out in the yard.
“You know that saying, the grass is greener on the other side. I think it’s all
just grass, wherever you go, and it’s only greener where you water it.”

“Very wise, but I don’t think I’m
going to be getting up off
this
grass anytime soon. Please, help me up,”
she said, struggling on hands and knees.

She laughed. “Of course. Only if
you give me a hand with one of my latest projects. I promise, it’s delicious.”

“I will, but first tell me why
you look like the midpoint of a rom-com: a bit sad, a bit dazed.”

“Romance yes, comedy, not so
much. It isn’t easy letting go, but I have to.” She disappeared into the cabin,
not inviting Daniella to ask about her and Trace.

On the back deck, Daniella helped
Baskia devour a plate of crispy veggie tostadas, after they’d photographed
them. “You’re seriously the best cook.”

“You can thank Patty for that.
But you’ll soon be the best baker. I’m so glad she decided to open Patty Cakes
Bakery.”

“And I’m glad I don’t have to
work at the market anymore. Although, all that pie might be dangerous.”

They chatted a bit longer, a
typical afternoon for Baskia as she counted down the days before her return to
Manhattan. She savored the remaining time spent with Wes, Patty, Mary, and
Maisy as well as relishing time alone and on long walks with Pepper, who was
now the healthiest and happiest of dogs. She stopped herself from wondering how
things were going to be different when she returned to the City, wrangling her
attention back to the present moment.

The night before the Fourth of
July, Baskia lounged on the couch, publishing a roundup of red-white-and blue
inspired dishes on her blog when Pepper growled from his place beside her.

“What is it bud?” she asked,
scratching his ears.

Headlights flashed through the
windows and Baskia got to her feet, Pepper leading the way with a bark. She peered
out the window, soothingly petting her dog.

A familiar figure came around the
driver’s side of the SUV and up the front porch. She hushed Pepper and opened
the door.

Resentment burned up from her
belly to her throat. She was ready to tell him to go back to wherever he came
from, and that she wasn’t just waiting around for him to show up. Six months
was too long. Before the words could slip out of her mouth, he pulled her into
his arms and buried his face in her hair. The scent of sunshine and miles was
on his skin. He leaned into her. The strength and confidence she’d gained in
her nine months of solitude, helped hold him up.

“I missed you so much,” he said
with a muffled voice. “I’m so sorry.” He sniffed.

She thought maybe he cried a
little, but he didn’t let her go, perhaps afraid that if he did, something
would separate them again.

“Where have you been? Why haven’t
you called?” she asked.

He took her hand and led her
toward the passenger side of the SUV. “This is why.” They peered in at a small
version of Trace, with blond hair and a tiny grin plastered on his face, even
as he slept. “I wanted to tell you. I didn’t know how. And so much has
happened. I want you to know everything, once I get him inside. If that’s
okay?”

Trace carried his sleeping son
into the cabin, settling him on the bunk downstairs. He padded into the living
room, the same exhaustion written in his eyes as when he’d first appeared
there. But the heaviness in his shoulders, the weight he’d carried, seemed to
have lifted. He stood taller.

Baskia sat on the couch, Pepper
resting at her feet.

“I see you replaced me,” he said.

“Ha ha. This is Pepper. I found
him in the woods, lost and starving.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s how you
found me too.” Trace rubbed Pepper behind the ears.

“I think you found me actually.
So…”

“So,” Trace said cautiously.
“Where do I start? I want to get a few things clear between us.”

“That’s a great idea,” Baskia
said with a bite in her voice.

Trace looked into her eyes. “I
love you.”

Those three words made the room
spin, but she stood still, rooted from the center, as if the L-O-V- and-E
fluttered and swirled around her, tickling her ears, teasing her, caressing her
heart, and yet, part of her demanded more than that as an explanation.

“I never stop thinking about you.
But I want to do this thing with you right. When we met, I can’t explain it. I
felt something for you I’d never experienced in my life, like I wanted you all
to myself and yet would gladly announce to the world how crazy I was about you.
I wanted it to unfold naturally, instead of just explode in a flash of alcohol
and then end up in disaster. I had to get my shit together before I could be
with you. And doing that the last six months has been the most difficult
challenge of my life.”

“Funny, I think they’ve been some
of the best of my life,” she said, questioning his sincerity.

“Wait, please listen. I’m not
giving you a line of crap. When we had sex, I freaked out, hard. I had
unprotected sex once, before, when I was drunk, at a party. The girl, she
showed up at my dorm, nine months later, about to have a baby.”

“Oh.”

“That night, that one mistake,
resulted in the biggest challenge I think I’ll ever face and also the greatest
blessing. It’s been a year and a half. Jonah is the coolest kid. He’s smart and
funny. I really want you to get to know him. But you see, first I have to know,
are you and I? Can we be?” He looked at the basket of books as if the right
words would materialize from their pages. “Will you be with me Baskia? Because
I never want to be apart from you, not for six months, or six weeks, or even
six days.” Trace had tears in his eyes and any hint of amusement was absent
from his lips.

Baskia felt the breath leave her.
For once, she had no words. She pressed her lips to Trace’s, kissing him
passionately, as if to seal the promise.

“I take that as a yes?” he said,
taking her hand in his.

“I love you,” she whispered,
meeting his eyes with tears in her own.

They rested their heads against
the back of the couch, gazing at each other.

Pepper gave a doggy sigh and
settled down on the floor.

Trace drew a deep breath.
“There’s more you have to know. Jonah’s mom, she was a drug addict. Before we
met, I worked for a guy, Mike. It was a job, on the side, to help pay for
school. I was a driver, expected to look the other way when, well, when he did
whatever he did. He sold drugs, guns. It was ugly. I made mistakes, got a lot
of tattoos, and got in even more fights.”

“Will never said anything, well
except that you had a son, after I threatened him. I thought maybe you had a
secret family and were cheating on your wife.”

“I would never. I’m loyal, like
this guy,” he said, patting Pepper. “Will is a good friend, he’s always been
there for me, but he knew I had to smooth out all the rough patches before I
moved onto the smooth. After I stopped working for Mike, Fillie, Jonah’s mom,
well, she hooked up with him. She got a free ride from the drug dealer, and a
hit whenever she wanted it, money to burn from child support and…she did a
shoddy job of looking after my boy. I found him a couple times, alone. I was
arrested for assaulting Mike for giving her drugs, causing her to neglect
Jonah. Looking back, I was stupid. Him with the guns, heavies, and then the
arrest, and all.” Trace sighed, as if dreading reliving the story.

“I took her to court, tried to
get custody, and it turned out that Jonah was allowed to go with her for a
week, once a month as long as there was an approved adult with them.
Nonetheless, those weeks, I couldn’t stand to be in the City; afraid I’d go to
their apartment and take Jonah in the night to keep him safe. After she broke
up with Mike, she got really bad, hooked on crack. She refused to go to rehab.
I took her back to court, requesting full custody, and all the while struggling
with trying to figure out how to take care of him, work, and be here with you.
That was in the winter. We were in and out of mediation, and then, the night
before we were to go in front of the judge, for the final ruling, I got a
call.” Trace went quiet.