Page 13 of Cut Off from Sky and Earth
I lean across the counter, drop a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and repeat the question I asked this morning in the bathroom. “What did I do to deserve you?”
It’s a real question, one I ask myself daily. My life would be so different without Tristan taking care of me, looking out for me, loving me.
In answer, he pulls me closer and says what he always says in response, “I’m the lucky one in this relationship, Em. Don’t think I ever forget that because I don’t. Not even for a moment.”
“I’m going to miss you like nobody’s business,” I tell him around the lump in my throat.
“I’ll miss you more,” he whispers, his breath riffling my hair.
I give myself a beat to savor this moment, then I say, “Did you text Tyrone or Lashina to let them know about the person in their garden?”
He stiffens, and I pull back, pressing my palms flat against his chest, and look up at him. “We need to tell them.”
He clears his throat. “I didn’t, but I will. Tonight.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise,” he says, handing me my wine glass.
Eight
Tristan
* * *
I glance at Emily’s relaxed face, so soft and trusting in sleep, before I turn off the windy, narrow, paved road that curves up the mountainside and onto the gravel lane that Alex’s instructions specify I must take no matter how much my GPS-guided map app might protest. As if on cue, the polished robotic voice with the inexplicable Australian accent scolds me for turning off the county road.
“Make a U-turn.”
I ignore the bossy Aussie and continue to bump along the unpaved road. We jostle over a deep rut and Emily jolts awake.
“How long have I been out?” Her voice is froggy with sleep.
We’re going around a hairpin turn, so I answer without turning my eyes away from the road ahead. “Not long. Just after we stopped for gas in that little town.”
I didn’t catch the name of the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town. All I know is it’s in Tennessee, a state that we passed through for a heartbeat before crossing back into North Carolina, and it did not have a charming used bookstore. Emily checked with the cashier while I filled the gas tank and she used the facilities.
The road—which is a generous description for this ribbon of earth—appears to drop off the side of the mountain up ahead. Optical illusion, I assure myself. I realize I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel and try to relax my grip.
Em glances at the map display. “It says you need to turn around. We’re off the route.” Then she peers through the windshield. “Is this even a road?”
I chuckle. “Alex said the apps don’t work properly up here. See that printout on the console?”
“Yeah.”
“Now that you’re awake, you can be my navigator.”
She picks up the sheet and scans the directions. “This place really is remote, huh?” Her quavering voice is tinged with fear.
I wrack my brain in search of a subject that’s guaranteed to distract her before that seed of worry has a chance to blossom into anxiety and take root. Her current work-in-progress is my usual go-to for this purpose, but she’s under deadline pressure, and I’m not sure bringing up the book is the best strategy right now. I settle on her brother.
“How’s Joey doing?”
She lifts her bowed head from the page, and I glance at her, making brief eye contact. She furrows her brow.
“Okay, I guess. I mean, he’s great. He and Rick are ready to start a family. They’re working with an adoption agency.”
“That’s awesome,” I enthuse. “Aunt Em and Uncle Tristan can spoil the heck out of a baby.”
