Chapter 13

Evie

"M

ake sure you're staying hydrated," I say, hoping I don't sound too motherly.

Since Adam confided about his unemployed status, seemingly skittish, I do what I can to change the subject. There's more to him than meets the eye. The fiancée debacle, for one. As much as I despise lying, I can understand the pressure a family can wield.

We continue on, the trail becoming more arduous. Two middle-aged female hikers with artsy hiking sticks pass us, heading down the mountain. They look sweaty and blissful.

"How was it?" Adam asks them.

"Best hike of our lives," one of them espouses.

The words give me a boost of energy.

Ten minutes later, I'm working harder to keep up. There's no one else around. It's just the two of us.

Adam says, "We should reach the top within the hour and then we'll need to turn around quickly so we're back before sundown. We don't want to be out here when it gets dark."

He has barely broken a sweat. Since stopping for lunch, we've only spoken to point out nature. Wildflowers, a snake in the path, and the howl of a hopefully faraway creature. I appreciate the deference to the environment. Too much talking interferes with the pristine, almost spiritual surroundings.

I grunt my agreement, and we go on, the incline growing steeper as we go.

"We're almost there," Adam says.

Thank heavens.

My thighs are burning with each step. I glance at my app. "The peak is just around the bend," I point.

A wave of heightened anticipation washes over me. As well as an unexpected need to commune with nature, alone. "Mind if I go ahead of you? I'd like to have a minute at the top."

Adam nods, sagely. "Sure. I know what you mean."

I go on until I reach the top, awestruck by the view. Careful to stay a safe distance from the edge, I do a three-sixty, taking in my surroundings. Mountains and cerulean blue skies as far as the eye can see. Alone at the summit, I whisper a thanks for the fortitude to complete the challenging hike on my fiftieth birthday.

I close my eyes and think about what I've accomplished in half a century. My kids, career, long-standing friendships. Divorce.

Did I make the right choices?

Not always.

I've had regrets. But as Frank Sinatra wisely sang, too few to mention.

My issue is more about the future, the unknown.

I've gone through the expected empty nest syndrome, spending the week after Jeffrey's high school graduation, moping around the house, wondering what I would do with no one to care for. Wondering what else I was good for. For so long, my identity has been mother above all else. The adjustment has been grueling.

But I'm trying. Following Sam's lead, I signed up for a Spanish language class at the library and yoga at the community center on 92nd Street. Yet deep down, I know something is missing, like an itch I can't scratch.

I inhale a lungful of clean mountain air. Up here on the precipice, I'm hit with an epiphany. I want something more than filling my newfound downtime. I want a start-over. A reboot.

I feel a deep sense of peace with the realization even as I understand it's a vague one. But now I have direction. Which will surely come with potentially complex decisions.

For later.

For now, I'm grateful for all I have. For being alive on a mountaintop in Yosemite National Park.

I think of my yoga class back in Manhattan. The teacher often starts off with a mountain pose that flows to a bend at the waist and a pose of gratitude. A year ago I would have laughed at the granola mentality. But my doctor suggested yoga as a healthy way to alleviate my stress, and I quickly grew to love the practice.

No one else is around. I don't need to worry how I look.

Eyes closed, I raise my arms above my head, then circle them wide and rapidly like a windmill, bending at the waist.

"Oomph!"

The grunt stuns me as I hit something hard. Nearly losing my balance, I pop open my eyes.

There's Adam, lying on the ground, atop his backpack, one leg dangling off the edge of the cliff, the wind knocked out of him. If he moves even a foot, he will roll off.

"Oh my God! Get back!"

Adam blinks rapidly, disoriented.

I reach out for him, grab onto his hands, and pull with all my might, until he's out of harm's way.

He sits up slowly, shaking his head back and forth. I bend down beside him, adrenaline still racing through my veins.

"Are you okay?" I ask, taking his face in my hands, his stubble scratching my palm. His pupils are slightly dilated, his blue-gray irises are studying me, curiously.

"Adam?"

He looks around, as if only now realizing where he is.

Slowly, a smile grows on his full lips.

Relief washes over me along with a crazy urge to kiss him. I force it away and let go of his face.

"What were you doing?" Adam asks, seemingly oblivious to my erratic state of mind.

I let out a sigh that sounds more like a sob. "I was meditating," I say, meekly. "I nearly killed you."

Adam looks at the cliff's edge. "Wow. Close call."

The terror of what almost happened fills me. A tear escapes my eye. Adam reaches over and uses the pad of his thumb to gently wipe it away. "I'm fine now."

"I thought you were giving me a few minutes alone," I say, my cheek tingling from his touch.

Adam remains on the ground. "I remembered that today was your birthday and I wanted to suggest we do something fun after the hike to celebrate. Since your friend is not here."

"Oh." My heartbeat is finally slowing.

Adam comes to a stand, stumbling slightly. "You've got a really mighty vinyasa."

I get up beside him. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yep," he says, a bit too casually. "Seems I lost my glasses."

"They might have gone over the side."

We both turn to face the cliff's edge and I shudder.

Adam lifts his pack off the ground. He's recovering far quicker than I am. "We need to get down the mountain."

It takes us three hours, arriving back at the parking lot as the sun is setting. The trek down was more than enough time for me to think about how I almost killed a man. A man I oddly feel close to.

"I'm so sorry, Adam. I don't know what else to say."

He shrugs. Actually shrugs!

"The way I see it, you saved my life, pulling me back from the edge."

How can he be so cavalier about nearly losing his life?

I click open the Porsche, wondering how I'm going to drive in such a state. "I'd like to make it up to you."

Adam appears ready to dismiss my suggestion. Then something crosses his face. "Come to think of it, there is something you can do, but?—"

Relieved, I say, "What is it?"

He shakes his head. "Forget it. It was a stupid idea."

"Please tell me. I'll do anything."

A playful smirk crosses Adam's lips. "Anything?"

I nod, vigorously.

Adam takes a deep breath and tells me.