Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Henry

THE FOREST ENVELOPES us in a silence that should be healing, soothing, but instead buzzes with all the things we aren't saying, all the things we're literally walking away from by coming here today. I didn't want to think about work and roommates and how Alex is leaving; Alex didn't want to think about his family and San Francisco. This should be cute and relaxing. I didn't realize my mistake in accepting the invitation until the quiet hit me.

I try to get myself out of my head and enjoy the hike. It's a simple route. It loops around a lake. Not Tripp Lake, but a smaller one called, well, Little Tripp Lake. Yup.

The flat, narrow trail draws us into the forest before it curves around the lake. The space between the trees affords us stunning glimpses of crystal clear water bathed in midday sunlight. We veer off the trail at some point, heading along an offshoot that takes us to the water's edge. Our sneakers squelch in damp ground lapped at by the peaceful waters. There's enough space for Alex and I to stand side-by-side, framed by trees and reeds.

"It's really pretty," I say, hoping to shatter that heavy silence that has hung over us like a rain cloud this entire time.

"It is," Alex says, but regret sours his words. Regret about what? Me? It's not like I don't understand. I wouldn't ask him to quit his job to be here with me.

I can't take this anymore. This was supposed to be a nice day, a break, but we're back on the edge of my bed, hands clasped between our knees as we struggle through an awkward conversation. I don't want to spend whatever time I have left with him on something so depressing.

I boldly scoop up his hand and squeeze it in mine. Alex's head turns toward me, but he doesn't pull away.

"I'm really, really happy that you wanted to do this with me today," I say. "Thank you."

I smile. Despite the pain, despite any future hurt I might feel, despite the awkwardness of what we aren't talking about, I smile. It isn't an act, and nothing I said is untrue. I love being here with him today. There is so much worth smiling about, even if it's only temporary.

Alex's expression softens, something like a smile tip toeing across his mouth.

"I'm glad you wanted to do this," he says. "I thought I'd only see you in the morning. This is much better."

My chest buzzes with warmth, even before he leans down and seals that statement with a kiss. My heart batters my chest, every physical signal screaming at me that this is real, even while my mind knows it's not. It can't be.

"Let's keep going," Alex says.

He doesn't let go of my hand as he tugs me back toward the main trail. In fact, we stay that way as we continue on, holding hands even on the narrow path. We have enough space to walk side-by-side, but occasionally the trees narrow and we bump into each other. I don't mind. I soak up every bit of contact, as though I can store some of it for later.

If only things worked that way.

We chat a little as we complete the loop, pausing here or there to admire not just the lake, but all the things around it. Alex knows so much about the trees, the animals, even the things that look to me like weeds but which are actually rushes and cattails.

"They're native to the region," Alex explains, "and super important to the environment around here. But you see that one over there, the one that looks like grass with a bit of a yellow flower on top? That's yellow-flag iris. Bad news. It's invasive, and it can choke out some of the stuff that's supposed to be here."

"That's a shame. It's kind of pretty."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, a lot of invasive things are. Unfortunately, they're not good for the area when they spread out of control."

I listen to his description of several more plants whose names I'll never manage to remember. I could listen to him talk about this stuff all day. It's fascinating, not because I care all that much about specific plants, but because it's fascinating to him , and I love watching the way his face lights up as he talks about it.

"You love this stuff," I note as we near the end of the hike. My car will be in sight any moment, and I'm already dreading it. I want to stay on this path holding his hand for as long as I can. It's clear he belongs here. In his jeans and with his stubble growing out a little more than usual, he's like a rugged mountain man.

"Yeah, I do," he admits. "That's why I went to school for it."

"But it's not what you're doing now."

His expression flattens. "No, it's not."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a difficult subject. I thought…"

Alex shakes his head. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who made those choices."

He goes quiet, and I don't push it. Maybe I should. I don't have that much time left anyway, right? What's the harm in finally picking at this subject? I've been wondering about it for almost his entire stay here, but I've always backed off for fear of chasing him away. I can't really chase him off before he leaves of his own volition though.

I open my mouth to ask the question that's been nagging at me so long — as Alex stops short and drops my hand.

I don't know what to make of it until I follow his line of sight toward the parking lot. There's my car, plus one of the other two we spotted when we came in. But a woman stands outside my vehicle, and the grim-faced look Alex gives her tells me exactly who she is.

"Mom?" he says. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" she shoots back.

"Hiking."

She scoffs as though that's the most ridiculous answer he could have provided. "Seriously? You're hiking . This is why you're not helping your father and I?"

"I've been helping you for the past two weeks. I wanted to take an afternoon off."

"An afternoon off. Like we're nothing but a burden to you. We're your family, Alexander. Jesus, I thought you came here to help."

"I did come here to help."

I watch all this aghast. I knew his family could be hard on him, and I saw how they reacted to me that one night in the bar, but have they been laying into him this hard the entire time he's been here? No wonder he's been running away to the café and my place. I would have offered him the spare bedroom if I knew the situation was like this. He came here to help, but his mother is berating him like his refusal to be on call at all times is a heinous crime.

"And then I find you here," his mother is saying. "I knew it. I knew it had to be him."

"Hey, leave him alone," Alex snaps. He actually steps forward and puts out his arm, as though physically shielding me from this woman.

His mother's eyes narrow. Alex and I stand at the edge of the trail. She paces across the gravel lot toward us, drawing close enough that I can see the lines bracketing her mouth.

"I knew you were with him," she says. "What are you doing with him?"

"He's a friend in town. Why do you care?"

"Do you know how embarrassing that scene at the bar was for your father and I? All we wanted to do was help you have a nice night, and we find him interfering." She waves her hand dismissively at me. "And poor Ellie. She must have felt humiliated. You owe that girl an apology."

I can't take it. A laugh bursts out of me at the image of Ellie caring at all about her ruined "date." She was the one who asked me to be there and, in fact, the one who nudged Alex and I to spend the night together once she witnessed our flirting for herself.

"Excuse you," Alex's mother snaps. "Do you find this funny?"

Alex places himself even more firmly between me and his mother, blocking most of my view of her.

"Leave him alone," he says. "You're mad at me."

"I'm mad at both of you. Is this where you've been going all the time? Disappearing, leaving me to try to help your father all alone. And for what? So you can hang out with this…"

"Don't." Alex's voice is harder than I've ever heard it. "Do not."

Even his own mother doesn't have a retort for that.

"How did you know we'd be here?" Alex says.

His mother straightens up, folding her arms under her chest. "Do you think I wouldn't look into who this mystery person was after you left the bar like that? I asked Ellie if you were with her. She said no. So you must have stayed with him." Another flick of her hand, like she can brush me away like dust.

"You stalked him?"

"No," she says, indignant. "He works in town. The café has profiles for its full-time staff."

I cringe. We do. But those are supposed to be cute and fun, not a tool for … whatever the hell this is. Is she implying that she took the sparse information from the café's website and kept digging until she knew my address, my car? A shiver runs down my spine. I've heard of controlling parents, but this takes the concept to a terrifying level.

"Jesus, Mom, you can't do things like that," Alex says. "Do you understand how weird that is? How violating?"

"Oh, so now it's a violation for me to want to know where my son is when he sneaks off at night."

"Your adult son. Yes, it is. Holy fuck. Henry, I'm so, so—"

"Don't," his mother snaps. "You need to come home. Your father could be dead for all we know. Do you understand the danger you've put him in?"

I struggle to comprehend what she's saying. Is she implying the heart attack or the relapse is Alex's fault when he flew up here to help them?

No wonder he wants to leave Tripp Lake so badly.

Nothing he does is right. Nothing he does meets their standards. The pieces fall into place as I watch him attempt to appease his mother. He loves telling me about plants and trees and nature. He went to school for environmental science. Yet he's a lawyer in San Francisco. That has to be the career they chose for him, the career they found acceptable. But it isn't his passion. It isn't what he wants. How much of his life isn't what he would have chosen for himself?

I stay quiet through the rest of Alex's mother's tirade, but only because I feel like Alex wants me to and my speaking could make things worse for him. Eventually, after what feels like hours, we escape to the quiet of my car. His mother drives off, and we shut ourselves away from her, the silence ringing in our ears when we're alone again.