Page 38 of Cherry Picked
I straightened and walked over to him. “That’s right.Diapensia. Nice job spotting that.”
“I wanna see!” Mirabelle yelled, hip-checking Grayson aside in her enthusiasm and almost landing him in the bush.
Grayson put a restraining hand on her shoulder and gave her a solemn look. “Mira. Mr. Hawk says we needa be gentle with the plants, remember? Look but neeeeever touch.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mirabelle instantly sobered and gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Mr. Hawk.”
I bit my lip and exchanged a laughing glance with Maryanne.
“You’ll make naturalists of them yet, Hawk,” she said softly. “Speaking of which, I talked to the parents about getting involved in your environmental group. Most of them have been too busy to make it to the town assemblies, but they’re very interested in protecting this place. Maybe you could make up some informational flyers?”
I nodded, mentally adding that to my to-do list, along with creating some temporary signage to place in the parking area at the trailhead and up near the peak. “Maybe ask them to follow my new Instagram account? I already posted some pictures I had in my phone, and I’ll be adding more every day.”
Maryanne agreed, then began the long process of rounding up the kids for the trek back down the mountain. Each of them gave me an enthusiastic high five before they departed. “What plants are we gonna see next, Mr. Hawk?” Luna demanded.
“Purple hyssops. Who here likes purple?” Every one of them raised their hands. “Awesome. And we’re also gonna learn aboutbats, so be ready.”
“Sounds like fun! What do we say to Mr. Hawk, Herd?” Maryanne asked.
“Thank you, Mr. Hawk!” the kids chorused before pairing up with their buddies and heading back down the path.
“Wow. Someone’s been a busy beaver,” Crys said, entering the clearing as the kids were leaving. “You’re really popular with the small humans, huh?”
I shrugged. “I started doing summer hikes with the Mini Scouts when Aiden was that age. I wanted to show him the mountain like my dad did with me. And then… I just kept doing it, even after he aged out. There’s something about kids this age that’s special. They’re little sponges.”
“If you say so, boo. I have zero patience.” She turned and surveyed the bushes and plants around us doubtfully. “So… this is your new home away from home? It’s… cute.”
I snickered. “Not here. There are marked areas for camping where you can pitch a tent. Mine’s a little ways up the trail.” I bumped her shoulder and nodded in the direction of the peak. “You wanna come see?”
“Obviously. I didn’t climb five billion miles up this craggy mountain on a mission of mercy just to turn around and head back right away. Besides, I have supplies for you.” She reached around to pat her bulging backpack.
“You’re the best.”
It hadn’t taken me long to realize that storming out without my sleeping bag had been a mistake. The cold front that had blown in over the weekend had decided to stick around, at least at the higher elevation where I was camping. I’d rather have taken my chances with hypothermia than head back to town and deal with my family again, though, so I’d called Crys, who had a huge assortment of outdoor gear shoved in her closet, and asked for a favor.
It took about ten more minutes of hiking to reach the little camping area I’d chosen. It was set back about twenty feet from the trail for privacy and ringed with tall pines.
I swept out an arm. “Home sweet home. For the next little while, at least.”
Crys pushed a clump of sweat-damp pink hair off her forehead and set down her backpack with aclink. “Sleeping bag,” she announced, pulling out a quilted bag and unrolling it inside the tent. “And some other necessities.” She removed two poly bags of dehydrated food, a wickedly sharp-looking knife, a Taser, and…
“Are those night-vision goggles?” I demanded.
“Yep. My ex-girlfriend left a bunch of shit before she moved out of our old place. She was a ten, but she was a prepper, so really she was a six, tops, if you know what I mean. Still, handy stuff, right? Also…”
She opened a different compartment and withdrew a glass bottle of vodka, some orange-pink juice, two plastic cups, and a tiny cooler of crushed ice. “Don’t worry, the bottle and cups are recyclable. Couldn’t exactly toast your protest with Earth-killing stuff.”
After we got settled atop the sleeping bag inside the tent, she bartended us into some killer-looking cocktails, then settled in and began the interrogation I’d known was coming.
“So, boo, I’ve gotta ask… What the fuck was that all about at the diner?”
“It was about me not waiting anymore, obviously.” I lifted my chin stubbornly. “It was about me making changes. Like we talked about. I’ve already gotten a bunch of stuff started on Instagram, and—”
“Hold up. I don’t recall suggesting that you should announce to the entire town your…” She hesitated. “Freshie status.”
“You can say virgin,” I muttered. “I’ve decided it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m gonna own it. In fact, I might start a Virgin Club and invite other-Chris from the Tavern to join me. We can both wear grandma-knit sweaters and proudly proclaim that our flowers have never been plucked.”
“I’m not sure other-Chris would qualify for your club.” Crys tapped the lip of the cup against her chin. “He’s got the heart of a marauding Viking hiding beneath those glasses and granny sweaters.”
