I look back toward the water and wrap my arms around my knees. “A lot,” I say. “But there’s plenty of time for that.”
He smiles, and for a minute I almost feel bad that he thinks I’m being nice because I actually like him.
*
On Sunday, I go visit Mom. I make us grilled cheese paninis with tomatoes and basil, which is one of her favorite lunches, and we sit at the kitchen table, the window open, a cool breeze blowing through.
She doesn’t eat much of her sandwich, though, and she winces every time she reaches forward to get her glass of water.
“Are you doing okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” she says, wincing again. “I’ve got this pain in my shoulder is all. And my back and my neck and my head . . .” She laughs a little and waves her hand. “It’s nothing, Jill.”
But she’s got a sad look on her face, and for a minute I want to tell her what I’m up to, that if Uncle Nate actually is right about their accident, then I am going to do everything I can to get to the bottom of it.
Instead, though, I get up and go to the counter where her array of various medications are kept. The painkillers, the antidepressants, the anti-seizure pills. I twist the cap off the bottle of the Vicodin and give her one.
“Here, take this.”
She does, like an obedient child, and I imagine that’s how she must feel and I hate that this is what her life is.
“Mom,” I say. “Let’s plan on doing something fun soon. Would you be up for that?”
She puts the pill in her mouth and washes it down with a sip of water. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. Something, though. It doesn’t have to be anything big, but I’d really like it if you were able to go out and just . . . I don’t know. Have a good time.”
“You’re a sweetheart. Yes, that sounds nice. Why don’t you think of something and let me know. Hopefully I’ll feel up for it.”
“Why don’t you think about a few things you might feel up for doing. You don’t have to tell me right now, but we can try to plan for it the next Sunday or something.”
She nods. “How are things going at the ranch? Lorrie called me the other day and we had a nice chat. How’s everything with that boy you weren’t getting along with?”
“Better.”
“That’s good. What’s his name?”
“Griffin. He’s actually . . . a little more interesting than I might have first thought.”
Mom smiles. “In what way?”
“Oh, you know . . .” I shrug. “There’s just some things about him that I didn’t realize at first, I guess.”
“That’s great, honey. I’m happy to hear that. I’m glad you guys were able to figure things out.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, even though, really, I haven’t got anything figured out yet.
Chapter 15: Griffin
Some of the campers and I are playing a raucous game of disc golf when I see Jill walking over. She’s wearing her usual four-inch inseam cutoff jeans and work boots and a Sea Horse Ranch t-shirt that’s on the flimsy side, which is a good look for her.
“We’re going to be heading out for the hike pretty soon,” she says. “Why don’t you guys go get your packs and then head over to the lodge and Karen will give you your bag lunches.” She looks at me. “Are you joining us?”
I hadn’t planned on it, as Jill had always seemed intent on keeping our activities as separate as possible, but a hike would be fun, and if she’s offering, well . . .
“I’d be happy to,” I say. A few of the kids cheer and then hurry off to get their daypacks. “Where are we hiking?”
“We’re going to drive up to Pacifica and hike Sweeney Ridge.”
I grin. “And are you extending the invitation because you’re hoping to push me off the ridge once we make it to the top?”
She gives me a patient smile. “I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you bring it up . . .” Her gaze goes to the retreating backs of the campers as they head down the hill toward their cabins. “I would have full-on mutiny on my hands if I did that. Those kids sure do like you.”
I pull a pack of gum from my pocket and take a piece out, then offer one to her. She pauses but then takes it. “It’s because I carry this around with me,” I say, sliding the gum back into my pocket.
She unwraps her piece of gum and puts it in her mouth. “I could carry around all the gum in the world and they wouldn’t adore me half as much as they do you.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Without really thinking about it, I sling my arm around her shoulders. She doesn’t pull away, though, or try to shrug me off. “I’ll teach you everything I know.”
Chapter 16: Jill
Sweeney Ridge is the longest hike we take with the campers, and it’s one of my favorite places. If it’s a clear day, as it is today, some of the views you get of the Bay Area are absolutely stunning. Dad and I used to come here a lot, and as we pull into the parking area, it’s hard not to think about him and wish that he were here, too. But the kids are all excited, especially to see the abandoned Nike Missile Base covered in all its graffitied glory.
We take the Mori Ridge and Baquiano Loop, which is a seven-mile loop with about a 1400-foot elevation gain. It will be a challenge for some of the campers, but a lot of the trail is actually paved, and I’m hopeful they’ll all hang in there and be able to see the 360 degree view of the Bay.
Some of the campers have stayed behind to go canoeing with Lorrie, Allison, and Karen, so I lead the small group and Griffin brings up the rear. Behind me, I can hear Simon and Heather talking, giggling. I glance over my shoulder and they’re not quite holding hands, but they’re close enough to.
We come to an area of unpaved trail where there is a line of flagstones that you can walk across like lily pads. Dad and I used to make a game of it—who could cross all the stones without falling off, or, as I got older and more coordinated, who could hop across the stones, or skip across them.
That’s what I’m thinking about as I step on the first one, and then Simon starts to say something and I turn, right as I’m about to step onto another rock. I turn my head only slightly, just so my ear is a little closer, but it throws me off balance and I slip. There’s the pain as my ankle twists awkwardly, which is quickly eclipsed by the feeling of the back of my head slamming into the rock I was just standing on.