Page 34 of Worth the Want
“Well, what are we waiting for then?” she asks me, laughing. The excitement coming off her in waves when she moves past me and now leading the way with Sally. My old ball cap looking better on her than it ever did on me.
“After you,” I mumble, not used to following anyone. Indiana is sure in her footsteps though. I would venture to say that she’s no stranger to taking the lead.
“So, you grew up here?” she asks after we’ve been walking for a few minutes.
“I did.”
She laughs. “And? I met you in a dive bar in New York. How long were you living there?”
I nod. “I was in New York working at a law firm out of college and was there for the better part of a decade before moving back home,” I answer.
“Were you a fancy lawyer in a big office?”
“My office wasn’t that big.”
“That means it was.” She sighs. “So, how was it readjusting to life here again? It’s only been a couple of weeks for me, but I’m already missing a few things from living in a city.”
“Like what?” If it’s anything I can remedy, I will.
“Maybe it’s not so much that I miss it, it’s just going to take some getting used to, but the convenience of delivery. I tried looking online and on a few of my apps, but there are zerogrocery or food delivery options. I’ve never been a great cook. Honestly, I’ve never tried too hard, but Silverthorne is forcing me to put all the recipe videos I’ve saved to good use,” she says wistfully. In my head, all I can think is:I wouldn’t mind cooking for her.
But out loud, I just hum in agreement. “Yeah, that will take some getting used to. You forgot something at the store? It’s another trip to town, or you have to go without.”
“It doesn’t help that I didn’t make a list when I went shopping. I’m pretty good at staying organized, but put me in the grocery store when I'm hungry, and there’s no telling what I’ll come out with or how many things…” she trails off, making me look over at her. Indie has stopped moving, and if I didn’t already know this trail, the look on her face would tell me we’ve made it to the waterfall.
From the moment I hopped into Knox’s old truck up until now, I had thought I’d seen some really beautiful views around the world. I haven’t traveled a lot, but my last job took me to some pretty places. Looking before me now though, I’m not sure seeing something is the same as what I’m doing now.
We’re up on top of a huge waterfall, with another one above us just to the right that flows into this one. I can see the stream down below. The rocks are covered in moss, and all along the sides of the water are colorful wildflowers. It’s beautiful andright in front of me.I can smell the water, reach out and touch it if I want. I’minthe postcard right now. “I’ve never been inside the postcard before,” I whisper.
“Do what?” I hear Knox’s deep voice ask from behind me.
I laugh. “It’s just that I’ve seen a lot of pretty things. A lot of nice views. I pick up postcards from every place I visit. But I’ve only ever seen them from hotel rooms or from the air. I’ve never beeninthe view before,” I try to explain. When I lookover at him, he looks thoughtful. I miss Han in moments like these. I never have to explain anything to her; she just gets it.
“You’re experiencing it in real time,” he says, surprising me.
“Yes, exactly.” I smile, fighting the tears that being seen by someone brings.
“Want to explore a little before we head back?” he asks.
“Absolutely. Please.”
He starts walking down a small trail to our left, Sally following him, and me following her. I pull Han’s camera from my backpack, looping it around my neck. I take a couple of pictures from up here before making my way down the pathway to get a few from a different angle. Still in awe of my surroundings, I barely notice Knox leaning against a boulder by the water’s edge.
I wonder then for a moment if this is a typical hike for him. If maybe this is a place he brings other people—other women.The thought leaves behind a bitter taste. One that, instead of examining further, I push to the wayside, along with all my other unpleasant thoughts, feelings, and concerns. Knox takes a drink of his water and draws my attention back to him. His hip propped against the large rock beside him, he’s looking out over the river that the waterfall flows into. I lift my camera and, without thinking, take the photo. He turns, and I snap another.
“I believe it’s common courtesy to ask someone before you take their picture,” he scolds me. If I thought he was serious, I might blush or drop my gaze, but the lazy drawl in which he delivers the remark puts me at ease. He’s only teasing me.He’s only teasing me, and it makes me think of other ways this man could tease.
“I’m not sure what you mean. I’m only capturing the beautiful landscape. If you happen to be in some of the photos, thenthat’s completely by accident.” I give him a shrug and keep moving down the riverbank toward some wildflowers. I picked up a book before moving that has all the Colorado state flowers categorized. There are these little slots after each description to place a real flower.
Once a collector, always a collector.
I guess you can move thousands of miles from your family, but the habits you pick up from them stay with you. Thinking about all the collections I’ve seen through the years tugs at my heart. I miss the eclectic apartment I grew up in sometimes. The tight quarters and colorful whimsy are one half of the mold that worked to shape me into who I am today. Various items on shelves or in cases. I can still see the walls lined with art and hear the clocks.
“Do you ever get desensitized?” I ask when I feel Knox walking behind me.
“In what way?” I’ve noticed he does this a lot. He’s good at answering a question with a clarifying one. Must be the lawyer in him. I’ll play along.
“Now that you mention it, I think I’d like to know all the things youthinkI could be referring to, but in this instance, I mean to the scenery. I’m not sure I could ever get tired of it.”
