52 - Melissa

52

Melissa

It was what I had wanted originally. To complete this hike all on my own, without anyone helping or accompanying me. That was the entire point of this ridiculous trip.

But wanting something and getting it were two totally different things, and I felt deep sadness while I tore down my campsite by myself. I kept looking around, waiting for Jack or the other two to randomly emerge from the trees with smiles and laughter. To announce that it was all a trick, and that I should see the look on my face.

It never happened. I was alone.

My disappointment faded as I began the hike. Today was the final day of my trek. Only sixteen miles to the trailhead marking the end of the Colorado Trail. A journey of 486 miles was coming to a close.

My determination grew as the sun came up and warmed my bones. The enormity of what I had done was sinking in. I’d never accomplished something so grand before. A month ago, I was devastated. I could barely get out of bed in the morning, and it was a success if I made it to lunch without crying.

Now I felt like I was in control of my life. Like I could do anything .

The terrain made for easy travel, too—it was almost entirely downhill, a gentle decline toward Denver. I lengthened my stride, making better time than I had at any point in the journey.

It felt like a victory lap.

As I descended out of the Rockies a new woman, there were signs that I was returning to civilization. Instead of seeing other serious hikers with massive backpacks, I passed day hikers carrying only water bottles. The trail was better maintained this close to the city, with cut logs marking the edges of the trail. The air grew thicker the lower I went, the oxygen filling my lungs and making me feel superhuman.

If not for the heavy pack on my back, I might have jogged the final couple of miles.

And then I rounded a corner in the trail and heard the sound of rushing water. The South Platte River roared below me, with a pedestrian bridge crossing it to a parking lot. And in front of the bridge was a big wooden map of the entire Colorado Trail, showing the journey I had made.

I paused to take a selfie in front of it, just like I had done at the identical map in Durango, where I had started the trail.

“Want us to take the photo for you?” a familiar male voice shouted.

I whipped my head around. My parents were standing on the other side of the bridge, waving like idiots.

Giggling, I ran across the bridge and threw myself into their arms. “You came all the way from Florida to see me finish?”

“We want you to know how proud we are of you,” Dad said.

“Don’t you ever do something like this again,” my mom scolded while squeezing me tightly. “I’m proud of you, of course. But don’t ever do this again. I’ve been sick with worry.”

“Love you too, Mom,” I said with a laugh. “How did you know when I would finish? Were you tracking my location?”

“Yes,” Dad said. “But your friends also told us.”

“My friends?”

“It was their idea for us to fly out,” Mom said, pointing.

Standing off to the side, behind a big white Jeep that I hadn’t noticed, were Jack, Noah, and Ash. They were watching and smiling, arms crossed over their chests like bodyguards.

“How did you…”

“Your mom called my office the first day you were in Crested Butte,” Jack explained. “She demanded to know if your injury was worse than you were letting on.”

“It’s a mother’s job to worry,” she said.

“You called twice a day,” Jack said dryly.

“I will not apologize for loving my daughter,” she replied curtly.

“Jack called us a few days ago and told us to fly out here to see you finish,” Dad went on. “We decided it was a fine idea. And here we are.”

“Just us and your friends,” Mom said.

“Yeah. My… friends.”

“She was only in town for a week,” Noah said, “but she left a lasting impression on us.”

Mom nodded. “My daughter has a way of doing that.”

“We have a hotel in the city where you can shower and change and everything,” Dad announced. “But then we’re taking everyone out to dinner to celebrate. Some place nice.”

*

We took some more photos at the trail sign, then piled into our cars: Jack and Ash got in the white Jeep, while Noah chauffeured me and my parents in his 4Runner. The multiple cars explained how my three mountain men had been able to switch off who was hiking with me for the past four days.

“He was so nice to pick us up from the airport,” Mom said. “Did you know he’s a doctor?” She elbowed me suggestively.

Laughing, I said, “Noah is the one who examined my ankle.”

“It was my pleasure!” Noah said. “Picking you up from the airport, and fixing your daughter’s ankle. I’m just glad she was able to finish the hike.”

Mom leaned in and whispered, “He’s a doctor , sweetie.”

I rolled my eyes. Five minutes with my mom and she was trying to set me up with someone I had already slept with, though of course she didn’t know that.

Noah dropped us off at the hotel, which was next to a shopping center. I didn’t have any clothes suitable for the nice restaurant Dad wanted to take us, so Mom and I went shopping for a dress. I settled on a sage green V-neck cutout dress that was a lot more revealing than I would normally wear.

But hey: new me, new dress.

Dad picked an upscale steakhouse for dinner. Noah wore dress pants and a button-down, but Jack and Ash wore jeans and polo shirts.

“Where I went to school in Texas, we called that western formal,” Dad said while we were seated at a round table in the corner.

“I, uh, don’t get a lot of chances to dress up,” Jack said.

“What is it that you do?” Mom asked. “I know Noah is a doctor, but you two haven’t told me anything about yourselves.”

“I do contract work for the Colorado Parks Department,” Jack explained. “Trail maintenance, mostly. And anytime there’s a storm, I get sent out to clear away debris.”

“Jack is being modest,” I said. “He’s a small business owner. He runs his own campsite in Crested Butte.”

“Oh, you’re the owner?” Mom said, surprised. “I just assumed you worked in the office or whatever.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Actually, I don’t own the campsite anymore.”

I almost spit out my water. “What!”

“I sold it to Theresa, the woman at the clinic. She and her husband wanted to start their own place anyway, so this made sense.”

I gawked at him. “I guess a lot has changed since I resumed my hike.”

“He didn’t sell all of it,” Noah chimed in. “He still owns thirty percent.”

“Enough of a stake to care about it,” Jack agreed. “I’ll take care of all the little tasks around the camp. Maintenance and stuff.”

“The things you actually enjoy doing,” I said with a smile.

He smiled back. “I won’t have to be customer facing anymore.”

“That’s a really big step,” I said, looking at Jack like he was a new man.

“I should’ve done it a long time ago. Better late than never.”

“Cheers to that!” Dad said.

“And what about you?” Mom asked Ash. “What do you do?”

“I’m a convicted felon out on parole,” he replied, deadpan.

Mom and Dad shared a look, then started laughing.

“Oh, I like him,” Mom told me. “He’s funny!”

I stared at Ash from across the table. “Oh yeah. He’s hilarious.”

The tiniest hint of a smile touched his lips.

We ordered drinks and food, and I told everyone about my hike. The parts of the trail I loved, and the sections that I hated. The ups and downs, the little annoyances along the way, and the calm clarity that I now had after a few weeks of solitude in the mountains.

“That’s wonderful,” Mom said. “Hopefully you got it all out of your system and you can get back to regular life.”

The way she said it made something in my gut clench. Get back to regular life . Toledo, Ohio. A normal job. A boring boyfriend who hopefully wouldn’t cheat on me with an Applebee’s waitress.

“When do you have to get back to work?” Dad asked. “Today is Thursday, so I’m assuming you’ll start back up Monday morning?”

“Yeah, Mel,” Jack said with a private smile. “When do you need to get back to work?”

“I quit my job!” I blurted out.

Dad paused with a bite of steak halfway to his mouth. Mom’s fork slipped out of her fingers and clattered onto her plate.

“I quit my job before coming out here,” I revealed. “My boss wouldn’t let me take off enough time to do this hike, so I quit. I know I should have told you the truth, but I didn’t want you to worry about me. I’m unemployed.”

“That’s okay,” Dad said at the exact same time Mom said, “This is not okay.”

They looked at each other, then turned back to me.

“Maybe you can crawl back to your boss,” Mom suggested. “He’ll take pity on you, especially after everything you’ve been through.”

“And if not, I can put some feelers out,” Dad added. “I still have a lot of contacts in Toledo. We will find something for you.”

Noah, Jack, and Ash were staring at me from across the table. I could feel their tension, waiting to see what I would say.

“I don’t want to get a job in Toledo,” I said.

“Oh.” Dad blinked a few times. “Well, I know a few people in Columbus, or Cincinnati…”

I remembered something Jack had said while we were on the hike. He didn’t plan on asking me to stay: the words just sort of came out. I hadn’t really understood what he meant at the time, but now I sympathized with him completely. Because as I sat there at the table with my parents and my three lovers, I felt the next words forming deep within my soul. And then they just came out .

“I want to move to Crested Butte.”

Noah looked relieved. Jack’s eyes widened in surprise. Ash reacted in the most surprising way: a massive grin split his face in half, momentarily breaking open his hard exterior.

“Not permanently,” I quickly added. “I don’t know what I want to do long-term. I think I’ll try out a bunch of different places. I’ll stay in Crested Butte for a month, maybe somewhere down in Texas for another month…”

“Florida is nice in the winter,” Mom said hopefully.

“Or you could fly out west and live near your brother in California,” Dad added.

“Maybe!” I said. “I think I’m going to figure it out as I go. One city at a time. But the important thing is I want to live in the present . I want to enjoy each place I’m in while I’m there, rather than worrying about where I’m going next. After all, the future isn’t guaranteed.”

I locked eyes with Jack, who was studying me with a curious expression. Like I had truly surprised him. I considered that a good thing. I wanted to be the kind of woman who could surprise the men she cared about.

“The future isn’t guaranteed,” Dad said slowly. “I like that.”