Old Enough to Love... (Just One of the Guys) (33 page)

He touched his door handle. “Come with me?”

I shook my head but not too fast or vomit would accompany the shake.

His face was disappointed and I watched him close his door and walk in front of the Jeep over to the gorge. I swallowed what little regret I had and opened my door, unsure if my legs would hold me up. “Hey.”

He looked so handsome in his jeans and North Face Pullover, I was sorry I hollered at him. He turned to me and came back to the Jeep. “Are you sure?” I could see the excitement in his eyes.

“No. Just hold on to me.”  And he did. One arm was around my shoulder and the other held my hand in the front. It was colder than anytime I’d been here and the tall trees held the sun hostage. He walked slowly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of heights?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I said concentrating on my steps. We were probably about five yards from the overhang. “OK. I’m good.” I stopped.

He wrapped his other arm around my shoulder. His warmth felt good but I shivered. “It’s cold,” he said probably trying to make me feel better. The gorge didn’t seem as deep as I remembered—maybe because I’d only seen it in the summer when it was rocky and now it was covered in twenty inches of snow.

Back in the Jeep and driving on up the mountain, we got behind some RV’s driving slow and this calmed me a bit; plus he hadn’t let go of my hand.

“Can you tell me yet, why you can take a black slope on your snowboard like it’s nothing but you can’t walk ten feet to look over a ravine?”

I gave him a weak smile. “No.” I didn’t understand it myself. “It would make me feel better ri
ght now if you had both hands on the wheel.”  He grinned and let go of my hand.

“I don’t know why. I feel
safe
on my snowboard. I know it doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re safe with me,” he said.

When we made the final curve at the top, I felt the tension in my shoulders release. Safe for the moment. The parking lot was empty today except for a couple of cars. I’d never been here when the parking lot hadn’t been jam-packed. I slid my gloves on and opted for beauty leaving my stocking cap in my pocket.

“You ready?” I asked.

“Are
you
ready?” 

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I think so,” I said and opened my door. The
artic air hit my face and caused my eyes to instantly water. Massive piles of snow had been shoveled off the parking lot and walkways. The trees…I’d never seen them look so beautiful…their limbs hanging low with the weight of the snow. I wondered how they didn’t snap.

The air I breathed in was bitter cold and my ears burned as we walked to the massive crater in the earth. I decided I wasn’t too vain to put my stocking cap on, so I rummaged for it in my pocket but had trouble getting it on with my gloves. Zach took it from me and slid it over my head after first kissing the top of one of my ears.

“It’s red,” he said softly. “You should have had it on to begin with.” 

“Look.” I pointed, and there it was…the most beautiful and most majestic lake in the world…at least the U.S., I thought. Snow lay on the outer banks of the crater; it looked like the snow was being funneled into the water. The sun, no longer hostage, shone bright and the glare was blinding.

“Wow.” I heard his voice and smiled. Yes! He wrapped his arms around me from behind though it provided little warmth.

“It’s the deepest lake in the U.S.” I bragged.

“What…I mean how…why the crater?”

I was so ready for this. “Well, it was known as Mount
Mazama—a dormant volcano. When it erupted, it collapsed—caved in on itself though first it buried the area in a rain of ash. Then this crater was formed. You know Mt. St. Helens?”

“Yes.”

“This made
that
look like a little burp.”

He seemed mesmerized as he stared at the gigantic hole. “The water is so blue.”

“No water comes into it except for rain and snow, and no water leaves it.” I felt like a tour guide. “I wish we could make a trip back in the summer because the snow, as beautiful as it is, is nothing compared to looking down the sheer drop offs on the rim.”

He hugged me. “You should be a park ranger.” I smiled though I knew he couldn’t see. I’d come prepared.

“I’m
your
park ranger,” I giggled.

“How long ago?”

“Did it erupt?” I asked thinking about my research.

He nodded.

“I think it was like 8,000 years ago.”

“It was. She’s good.”  We both turned toward the voice. A real park ranger stood with his coat and hat on. “Where you folks from?”

“Ashland,” Zach answered, and I loved hearing him say it. He reached for the ranger’s hand and they shook.

“Nice to have you all here. We don’t get a lot of visitors in the winter because of the snow. Unfortunately, I’m sorry to have to ask you to leave, but we have a storm coming and we have to close the roads.”

My eyes must have indicated some fear because the ranger patted my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. It’s still an hour or so out, but we need you to start your descent.”

“Would you take our picture?” I asked.

“Sure.” I handed him my camera, nestled up to Zach and smiled.  He snapped it.

“So, no hot chocolate from the lodge?”  I asked, taking my camera back.

“Good stuff, ain’t it?” he winked. “Next time. Sorry about that.” He turned and I thought I heard a “be safe” as he walked away.             

We stood for a few more minutes. I knew it was just a
s beautiful as the Golden Gate and it was a natural wonder. “I love it,” he whispered in my ear, and his breath warmed me to the bone.

We stopped at a hole-in-the-wall diner that had only one car in front figuring we’d be safe to at least get drinks. We shed our layers before going in. The place was dark, which kept us from seeing if it was clean, and we sat in a booth against the wall. Thankfully, the room was warm. An older woman, maybe sixty something offered us menus and ice water in a glass. An RC clock hung above us vibrating with a soft hum, and a juke box lit one corner. A TV played on the corner of the bar.

“What can I get you all?” she asked in a gruff voice.

“How about two hot chocolates for starters,” Zach directed.

She nodded. “Hot chocolate it is.”

He reached across and grabbed my hands. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For today. It was awesome.” The table seemed to be three feet across and my hands could barely reach as he pulled them to his lips. Without letting go, he slid out of his seat and into mine.

“Yeah. Awesome, huh?” I asked with a roll of my eyes. “Which part was awesome…me freaking out when I thought we were toast or the two hour ride for the thirty minutes of a hole filled with snow? You know…in the summer it’s beautiful and…”

“Stop.” He was chuckling. “All of it. It was majestic and scenic and…” he paused and stared at me. “It was like nothing I’d ever seen.”

I couldn’t control the smile that broadened across my face. “I’m glad you liked it.”

His left arm wrapped over my shoulders. “We’ll do it again when it warms up and the snow is gone.”

I was happy at the thought but knew the truth. “The snow doesn’t melt until at least July.” I lowered my head.

His index finger lifted my chin and he kissed me. His breath was warm and soothing. The waitress cleared her throat, and he turned to her. Uncomfortable, I wiped my lips with my hand as she placed the mugs on the table—a giant dollop of whipped cream floating high on top.

“Anything else?”

“In a few minutes,” he answered politely.

I wrapped my hands around the hot mug reveling in the warmth. I leaned down and licked the top off my cream. It was so good. Zach was watching me with fire in his eyes. He slowly stuck his finger in his whip cream and pulled it out. I bit my lip as he brought it toward me. My mouth opened just far enough for his finger and he slid it in. I enclosed my lips around it sucking the cream off with my tongue. His eyes and his smile made me want to come out of my skin.  He slowly removed his finger and suddenly, I was embarrassed.

“Come on,” he said tugging me from the booth.

“Where?” I asked, but saw we were headed for the jukebox.  I was shocked to see it was a CD jukebox…this joint seemed more like an old forty-five type place. He fed a couple of dollars in, we made some selections and I turned to go back to the booth.

He grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I stumbled back and he caught me in his arms. “What?”

He didn’t have to answer. He pulled me into his body and we swayed back and forth to the beat of the music. I didn’t mind dancing; I just hadn’t done it much. Though I’d been in ballet for nine years that was far from the dancing they did these days. My head hit about mid sternum on his body.

“Do you ever feel like you’re dancing with your little sister?”

“I don’t have a little sister.”

“Well, this is what it would be like, I’m sure.” When we were sitting we seemed more on even ground but standing, dancing…we didn’t fit. I hated that.

All of the sudden, he lifted me up into both arms. “If I felt about a sister the way I feel about you, I’d be in trouble.” He laughed and pecked my lips. “Yuk!”  He shook his head trying to rid himself of the thought.

“Put me down,” I requested.

“I will. When the song is over.”  And as the music faded, he walked me back to the table.

The drinks were cooler now, and I could drink it without scorching my lip. My phone, which I left on the table, vibrated. It was a text…I pushed read.

Call me. I need 2 talk 2 U

My smile faded.

“What?” Zach asked.

I showed him the text.

“Don’t tell me…Mr. Meiers?” It changed his mood too.

I shoved the phone in my purse. “I’m hungry.” I attempted to change the subject. He opened the menu and we scanned it. “Onion strings,” I suggested.

“That’s what I mean,” he said. “Most girls wouldn’t order onions on a date and you do.”

I was suddenly self-conscious. “Is that bad?”

“No! That’s my point. You do it because you want to. You aren’t someone else around me.  You’re you.”  He motioned for the waitress. “We’d like some of your onion strings.”

She nodded and turned back to the kitchen.

“We need to talk about Grant.”

Hmm. Not
Meiers. “I told you I’d talk to him and I will…today when we get back.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near him.” Zach’s tone was flat.

“Well, that’s gonna make it a little hard to talk to him now, isn’t it?”

I could tell he was mulling over the predicament in his head. “Emma. He does not want us together. You understand that, right? His whole motive for wanting you to know this…stupid shit.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “Is to break us up? Do you get that?”

“And whatever it is that you two know…” I swallowed the fear that rose in my throat. “It would break us up?”  My voice broke as the words came out. He stared into my eyes. The pain evident in his brown ones.

“I…don’t…know. I think you’ll be disappointed in me. But no more than I am in myself.”
             

I wanted to know…badly, but was it worth the gamble of losing him? Then again, that was my choice. Forgiveness. Isn’t that what life is about?  And he was so worth forgiving. My grandma used to say to me—Forgiveness doesn’t change the past, but it enlarges the future—I heard her now in my head. Emma Nicole, never forget three powerful resources you always have available to you—love, prayer and forgiveness. I smiled as I pictured her little face, the one person in this world who was smaller than me.

“Here’s your onion strings.” The woman slid the plate onto the table. “Can I get you anything else?”

“You want a soda?” Zach asked me.

“Sure.”

“Two sodas, please.”

She nodded and was gone again. 

“I can’t imagine being angry with you.” I dangled a string into my mouth. “Have you been using drugs again?”

He swallowed what he was chewing. “No.” He sounded disgusted. “March 4th, I’ll be a year sober.” He smiled.

“How bad did it get?”

He took in a long deep breath and released it. “Bad.” He paused. “I was drunk all the time. In the morning when I didn’t drink, I’d smoke a joint. It was whacked. I knew it was hurting my parents. I knew they knew. They tried to talk to me, but I blamed them for moving. I didn’t care that my mom’s health was at risk.” He looked at the table and traced the marble lines in the Formica.

“What happened to your mom?”

“Everything. Her blood pressure was off the charts. She wore a heart monitor for a while because her heart was doing funny things. She had a test to check for blockages and that was fine. But stress was eating her up. I think dad felt their quality of life and marriage was slipping, and he knew…he knew he’d have to get her out of the city to make her change. She was who she was and the city was part of that. Do you remember the pit bull case of the dogs that attacked some lady?”