29. Clover

The first tear slides off my face to plop onto Jinx's fur. She blinks but stays settled in my arms as I cradle her to my chest.

"Be a good girl, okay?" I say, my voice thick as more tears begin to fall. "Oh, who am I kidding? You're not going to be good. Just don't kill anyone, all right?"

She purrs and nuzzles into my t-shirt. I can't tell if that's a yes or a no. I let out a watery chuckle and spend a few more minutes holding her in my bedroom before I lower her onto the bed.

"I guess you can sleep here as much as you want," I say. "You won't have to share the pillow with me anymore."

I turn away as a sob bursts out of me, rising from deep in my chest. I bury my face in my hands, heaving a few more sobs until I manage to pull myself together. I grab a tissue off the bedside table and dab at my eyes before blowing my nose.

Jinx has curled up on the bed. A beam of morning sunlight shines through the window to illuminate her patchwork calico fur, and I whip my phone out to snap a picture of my last moment with her before I leave.

My brand new backpack is propped up against the wall beside the door. True to his word, my dad drove all the way to the outdoor supply outlet and bought the biggest backpack they had—which was an absolutely humongous monstrosity we ended up having to exchange for a more reasonable option.

Today, he's driving me and Neavh all the way to the Vancouver airport so we can catch our flight to Lima.

David will be dropping Neavh off here any minute. My whole family is waiting outside to see us off, but I asked to have the house to myself for a bit so I could say a proper goodbye to Jinx.

I take one last look at her snoozing in the sunlight and then glance around my bedroom. The closet is stuffed with boxes of things I'm keeping in storage—winter clothing, knickknacks from Victoria, and way too many textbooks. The future I had planned for so long has now been tucked away out of sight, but I know it will always be there waiting if I want to return.

I glance over the familiar knots and whorls of the log walls, the ones my imagination would turn into dancing bears and pompous ducks as a child, and I know this room will always be here too. This home will always be here for me.

The thought makes it easier to heft my bulky backpack onto my shoulders and leave my room behind.

I walk down the creaky staircase to the first floor. I've memorized all the spots in the floor that squeak. I know what the wind sounds like when it rattles the windows, what the rain sounds like when it pounds on the roof.

I know this place, and it knows me, but it's time to go somewhere I'm a stranger. It's time to meet someplace new.

I pause as I pass by the living room. Everyone must be wondering where I am by now, but I still take a moment to pad over to where a photo of my mother sits on the mantelpiece.

She looks so much like Emily—bright blonde hair and ocean-coloured eyes—but today, I see me in her too. I see myself in the set of her jaw, determined even as she smiles. I see myself in the wonder that never seemed to leave her eyes, especially when she was outside. She always noticed the tiniest flowers and the littlest lady bugs, the ones everyone else seemed to miss—except me. I always noticed them too.

"I love you, Mama," I say as I press my fingertip over her lips.

I remember what my dad said: that she always knew I would leave, that she called me a little girl destined for big things.

I stare at her eyes, and even though this photo was taken years ago, I let myself believe the wonder in them is for me today.

I head out of the living room, and I'm in the middle of pulling my shoes on by the front door when I realize the muffled voices I can hear outside sound way too loud for just my dad and my sisters.

Even Neavh and David wouldn't be making that much noise. There's enough chatter and laughter going on for a whole party out there.

I finish getting my shoes on and then yank the door open. My jaw drops.

All of River's Bend has shown up to say goodbye. Neavh, David, and my family stand closest to the house, but behind them, the entire yard is filled to the brim. All the campground staff are here, even the seasonal workers whose contracts are over now that we've reached the end of the season. Half the team from the bar is here too, and so is a collection of locals I've known my whole life—old fishing buddies of my dad, families I babysat for as a teenager, the owners of every other business in town.

"Oh shit, she's here!" one of the campground staffers calls out.

There's a general scramble within the crowd, and then a handful of them hold up cardboard signs each featuring a different letter to spell out the words ‘Bon voyage!'.

I blink once. Twice.

Then I start bawling.

Neavh drops her backpack to the ground and runs over to throw her arms around me.

"Th-this is s-so nice," I wail into her shoulder.

"I know," she says. She's sniffling too. "I had no idea they were doing this."

She sways a little as she holds me, and I make it through the first wave of emotions. I step out of the hug and turn to face the crowd.

My eyes immediately start watering all over again. I should probably be embarrassed to be blubbering like a baby in front of an entire town, but I can't find it in me to be anything but grateful as I rush towards my family.

The first person I hug is my dad.

"Thank you," I say into his ear. "Thank you so much."

He squeezes me tight and mutters, "You know only Emily is organized enough to pull something like this together."

Emily might have done the planning, but I know a good portion of the people who showed up today did it because of him.

The next half hour is a blur. Neavh and I hug and shake hands with so many people I'm sure my arms are going to ache tomorrow, but I treasure each exchange with the people who took the time to be here. Trish ends up needing to grab a box of tissues out of the house because I'm crying so much.

Everyone drifts off once they've had their moment with us, heading out to give the family some privacy before we start the long drive to Vancouver.

I watch as Neavh gives David a hug so tight I'm surprised his back doesn't crack in protest. He's wearing his motorcycle jacket, and over by his bike at the end of the driveway, I spot Lonnie lingering with his spare helmet clutched in her hands.

I chuckle to myself. As of today, they're still insisting they're just friends.

As David and Neavh murmur their final goodbyes, I turn away to give them their privacy. I find both my sisters standing behind me, their eyes shining.

"Oh no," I moan as my own eyes begin burning for the dozenth time today. "You're going to make me cry again."

Trish wraps her arms around my neck. "Too bad, sucker."

She tries to sound teasing, but her voice is thick and trembling.

"Here," she says as she pulls away, thrusting a paper bag at my chest. "Extra snacks."

She's already loaded the car up with more homemade food than we'd need for a five day road trip, never mind the five hours it takes to get to Vancouver, but I know this is how she shows her love. I smile as I cradle the bag in my arms.

"Thank you," I tell her.

"I have something too." Emily steps forward, and I notice the green bucket hat clutched in her hands.

She holds it out to me, and I gasp when I see the old Three Rivers logo on the front, the one they used back in the eighties, long before I was born.

"Is that—"

"Mom's hat," Emily says. "She used to always wear this on hikes. It's kind of falling apart, and I know you don't have much room in your backpack, but—"

"Of course I'm taking it with me."

I reach out and run my fingers over the threadbare brim, and I'm hit with a dozen memories of watching my mother trudge up the trail ahead of me, ready to point out any interesting plants or birds along the way.

I shift the paper bag around so I can reach up and settle the hat on my head.

"There," I say. "How does that look?"

Instead of answering, both my sisters throw their arms around me. We twine together in a tangled knot, all three of us sniffling and choking to hold back more sobs.

"I'm so proud of you," Emily whispers.

"Me too," Trish echoes.

"Are you kidding me?" I demand. "I am so proud of you. I have two absolute badasses as my sisters."

I know it's probably time to let go, but when they begin to shift apart, I just hold onto them even tighter.

"One more minute," I mumble.

They squeeze in closer.

"We'll always be the three rivers, okay?" Emily says. "No matter what."

I nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I will myself to remember every detail of this moment.

"No matter what," I repeat, my voice trembling.

I step back and let them go.

We have to move quickly after that. Even with budgeting some extra time into our departure beforehand, we're now way behind schedule. Before I know it, Neavh and I are bundled up into the truck with my dad, our backpacks rolling around in the bed.

Dad gets all misty-eyed when he sees me in Mom's hat, but he puts on a stoic act as he steers us up the road to the highway. Trish, Emily, Kim, Kennedy, and David all wave until we're out of sight, Newt weaving around their feet as he barks at all the excitement.

My heart lurches as I watch them disappear in the rearview mirror when we round the next bend.

Despite taking nearly five hours and featuring a ferry crossing, the journey to the Vancouver airport seems to go by in the blink of an eye. I barely eat more than a few bites of all the food Trish packed, and Neavh doesn't eat much either. We're both pretty quiet, but she rests her head on my shoulder for most of the drive, and we hold hands as we stand by the railing on the ferry.

My dad parks the truck at the airport so he can walk us in. The place is packed, teeming with travelers who range from fancy Vancouver business executives to backpack-toting hippies heading out for some van life adventures in the wild.

Neavh and I dump our stuff at the bag drop and figure out our gate information before rejoining my dad where he's managed to find a bench tucked away from the worst of the crowds.

He gets to his feet as we approach, and when my gaze meets his, I stop dead in my tracks. Panic swells in my chest. I can't get enough air into my lungs, and my pulse is going haywire.

This is it.

I'm really about to do this. I'm really about to leave him—not for a few months just to go to a school a few hours away. I'm going farther than I ever have in my life, and I have no idea when I'll return.

Neavh rests a hand on my shoulder, and I snap out of my daze to look at her.

"It's okay," she says. "I've got you."

My heartbeat slows just a fraction. I dip my chin in a nod, and she gives me the gentlest of pushes forward. I continue on towards my dad while she hangs back to give us a moment.

"Reckon you should probably head to your gate now," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets and staring down at the polished floor.

He looks so out of place here in the city, all country in his jeans and work boots with the top few buttons of his flannel hidden under his grey-streaked beard. I slide my arms around his middle like I'm a little kid again.

"I love you, Daddy," I say into the soft, worn fabric of his shirt.

He strokes my hair with one of his hands. "I love you too, goose girl."

"You're gonna be okay, right?" I ask, my voice cracking.

Instead of answering, he gently pries my arms off him and then stoops down a few inches so we're face to face.

"Don't you worry about me," he says. "I'll be okay. You've got to promise me you'll be okay, though."

I nod, my throat now so thick I can barely speak.

"I will," I squeak.

"And you've got to promise me you'll have the best time out there, okay? That's all I want for you, Clover. I want you to say yes to everything you've dreamed of. I want you to climb mountains and explore jungles and discover a new bug or…or lemur or something, okay?"

I let out a watery chuckle. "Lemurs only live in Madagascar, but I'll do my best."

"And," he adds, "if you find any abandoned goose eggs, you've got to promise to give me a call, okay?"

I pull him into one last hug and whisper, "I promise."

We break apart a long moment later, and before I can say anything else, he waves Neavh over to join us.

"Listen up, Neavh," he says as she approaches.

My muscles tense at the impending threat of a Father Talk.

"Dad," I warn.

He spares me a glance but turns right back to her.

"Yes, sir," she says, already a little pale.

"This is my daughter you're going to Peru with," he says in a firm tone, "and I expect her to be well taken care of."

Neavh bobs her head. "Of course."

I nudge his arm with my elbow. "Come on, Dad. It's the twenty-first century. Do we really need to do this?"

He ignores me.

"Now, I know you and Clover have had some…troubles."

I flinch. If he starts shit-talking what happened in the past, I'm really going to need to intervene here.

"But," he adds, "the truth is that you make my daughter very happy, and you've helped her do something I'm not sure I could have helped her with myself."

Neavh and I both hold our breath as we wait for the rest. I have no idea what he's talking about now.

"You've helped her finally follow her heart."

My jaw drops all the way to the floor as I watch him hold his arms out to offer Neavh a hug.

She accepts, and the two of them do an awkward pat on the back kind of thing before stepping apart.

I don't know if I want to laugh or cry again, so I do a bit of both.

A garbled loudspeaker announcement cuts through the din of the terminal. Neavh glances over at the departure board and winces.

"Uh-oh. We've really got to go."

I give my dad one last hug, and then the two of us take off speed-walking to the security line.

I look back once, and I see my dad standing there still as a stone, arms crossed and feet planted wide as the airport chaos swerves around him.

He might look out of place, but he still looks strong as a Vancouver Island fir tree, and in that moment, I know he was telling the truth: he will be all right.

We get to the security screening area, and I skid to a halt just before we reach the end of the line of people shuffling through a maze of dividers.

"This is it," I say. "We're going."

When I step into that line, I'll be stepping into a new life—one I haven't planned yet, one I'm willing to let take me by surprise.

"Yep," Neavh says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "We're going. Together."

I squeeze her back. "Together."

No matter the pain it took to get here, and no matter how many years we spent apart, I know this is always where we were meant to end up: just me, her, and a future as wide and limitless as a starry night sky.

"You ready to wander, salamander?" she asks.

I mirror her grin with my own.

"Of course."

With her hand still clutched in mine, I lead the way to the end of the line.

"I'm a Rivers," I say. "I'm ready for anything."