A Woman Lost (26 page)

It didn’t take too long to purchase a couple of T-shirts, fudge, and chocolate. It also didn’t take long to notice that most of the shops were the same. Not wanting to look at T-shirts anymore, I changed tactics and wandered into a jewelry store. That was my mistake.

As soon as I started peering into the glass cases, I could not stop thinking of Sarah‌—‌thinking that she would have liked this bracelet or that a certain necklace would look incredible on her. The thoughts invaded my mind. I started envisioning her wearing them.
God, what was I thinking in chasing her away
?
What a fool
. Sarah was perfect for me in every way‌—‌pretty, smart, funny, caring, and most of all, she let me be me. I could work late hours and go for long bike rides. She rarely bugged me about spending more time with her.

Get a grip, Lizzie
, I told myself.
Concentrate. You are here to forget, not to beat yourself up. Pull it together.

I made a break for the exit, confusing the poor salesperson who had pulled out all the merchandise for me. I felt like an ass. But how could I explain? I knew I had acted like a jerk, and that I was wrong. I didn’t need a stranger to tell me that too.

How could I say sorry? How could I take back my actions over the past year? Just telling her I loved her wouldn’t cut it. You can’t put a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. Attempting to change her mind with nothing more than words, or hugs and kisses, seemed impossible. I had to demonstrate that I loved her. And that meant owning up to my feelings and my failings‌—‌I was never good at that either. Plus, there wasn’t evidence any of my attempts would work. I usually only set goals I knew I could attain. Buying jewelry wasn’t going to help me.

I needed to find something to occupy my mind, but it was too late in the day to hike. Instead, I found a used bookstore. That was it: I would buy an enormous book and focus on the words. Force my mind to wrap itself around something else. I didn’t want to think about my life. And I certainly didn’t want to think about Sarah.

I considered buying a thick book on economics, something that would require all my brainpower to understand, but I knew that wouldn’t work. My mind would inevitably wander.

Instead, I headed for the fiction section. I wandered up and down the aisle until I spied a copy of
The Thorn Birds,
and I chuckled, remembering Maddie reading the book in Estes. But I didn’t want a book about a forbidden love affair. I continued scanning the shelves and found a fantastic old copy of
David Copperfield
. From the wear and tear the book had endured, I knew it had entertained many people. It was perfect. I also glanced at a copy of
The Witching Hour
, another monster of a book. I purchased both. Who knew how quickly I would read them? There were too many hours in one day. I needed to keep my mind off my regrets. Hiking would occupy part of the day, but what would I do at night?

My next stop was the liquor store. I would need plenty of gin and tonic, my new favorite vice. Too much rum and Coke gave me the jitters. Back in my hotel room, I filled the ice bucket to chill the tonic water. Sipping a gin and tonic, I opened to the first page of the Dickens book, looking forward to the suffering‌—‌the orphan boy tossed out into the world. Please Charles, give me some solace. I needed an old friend to spend time with, a friend who wouldn’t judge, talk, or look at me like I was a fool.

Several hours later, I could no longer ignore my grumbling stomach. I tucked Sarah’s photograph into the book to keep my place, found another greasy spoon restaurant, and ate until I thought my stomach would burst. Then I returned to my room, curled up on the bed with my book, and drank.

The next morning, I woke up early once again. I did not remember falling asleep, but then again, I did not remember much of the night before. I had plans to hike all day, so I found an early-bird restaurant, an easy thing to do in an outdoorsy town, and wolfed down a hearty meal. The place was kind enough to pack me a couple of sandwiches and apples for lunch.

I purchased a yearlong pass to the park, and at that moment, I never wanted to return to Fort Collins at all. Everything I knew and loved was over. Maybe I would buy a place here and live in hiking, biking bliss. I made a mental note to check out available real estate. Part of me felt foolish, thinking like that. How could a reasonable adult run away? The other part of me thought:
Why the fuck not? What was keeping me in Fort Collins, or Colorado for that matter?

It was beautiful, but it did not compare to the beauty of northern Wyoming. Would Boston be better? Did I care about teaching that much? I was an outdoor girl. I loved research. I loved quiet and being left alone. Being alone in a city would not be hard, but it wasn’t the type of alone time I wanted.

The thought of leaving Colorado energized me. I couldn’t wait to get to the trail and explore. I had decided to hike around String Lake, so I wore my bathing suit underneath my clothes. I wanted to test how chilly the water would be in June. Usually, I came to these parts during late July or August.

Just being on the trail, surrounded by nature, eased the tension from my body. I sucked in the fresh air, heard the rustle of the breeze through the treetops, like the whisper of Nature itself.

It didn’t take long to work up a sweat, and I started to peel off some of my layers. By ten in the morning, I was famished again. I stopped and unhitched my rucksack to eat one of my sandwiches. Turkey and cheese, stacked high on fresh-baked bread‌—‌the type of sandwich I imagined loving mothers made for their children each day before sending them off to school. I sat down on a log and watched the chipmunks grow braver and braver. I knew I shouldn’t feed them; nevertheless, I enjoyed watching them.

The buzzing sounds of insects invaded my ears. I couldn’t see them, but occasionally one whirred near my ear. Swatting at the invisible assailants, I wished I had remembered to pack bug repellent. Sarah would have remembered.
Stop it.

I shut my eyes on Sarah’s image and listened to the wind whistling through the leaves. A deep breath reinvigorated me. I could live here.

Whack!

I sneered at the squashed bug on my arm.

I should have brought some spray. Dammit! A butterfly flitted past me. I gazed at the cerulean sky through squinted eyes. What had Lewis and Clark felt when they first stepped foot here? Did they want to explore? Conquer? Tame?

The possibilities were endless then. Now, tourists crawled over the land, despoiling the sense of freedom. From my vantage point, I spied at least twenty people on the trail below, winding their way to my spot. Their prattle shattered the tranquility.

I shut my eyes again, relishing the sound of the wind, the insects, and the chattering chipmunks.

The sound of something crashing at my feet forced my eyes open.

“I’m sorry,” said a man, as he leaned over and picked up his water bottle, which sat near my foot.

I nodded and watched him amble away with his wife. They looked happy. Not alone.

I sighed and scrambled to my feet. I needed to focus on the trail.

* * *

As long as I kept moving, I could keep my mind off Sarah. Physical exertion had always been a way to distract myself from trouble or sadness. I relished pushing my muscles to the point of exhaustion, and the beauty around me made the pain more bearable.

After hiking all day, I made a reservation for dinner at the Jackson Lake Lodge. I was dying for a steak. I requested a table by the window, so I could watch the moose come to drink at the watering hole.

Back at my hotel, I showered before climbing into bed and reading until I fell asleep. My body was so relaxed from all of the exercise that I didn’t even bother to make a drink.

I kept this schedule for the next three days: up early and hiking until I could barely walk, and then finishing my day by eating steak while watching the moose at the watering hole. On day five, I woke up early and could barely move my legs. My entire body rebelled against any physical exertion, and a slight limp made me look like I was suffering from hemorrhoids. Hitting the trails alone in that state was not advisable‌—‌even my stubborn-ass knew that.

Instead, I wandered the square once more. Again, everything reminded me of Sarah. When I passed a real estate office, I stopped to look at the properties. Maybe Boston was not the right place for me. Maybe I should be in the mountains, isolated, so I could finish my dissertation. And on the days I didn’t want to work, I could disappear on the trails. The idea appealed to me. It appealed so much that I made an appointment with an agent.

Afterwards, I wandered about the square again.
Screw it.
I marched into the jewelry store and bought all of the crap I thought Sarah would love. The salesclerk patiently boxed and wrapped each item. Finally, I had some peace of mind. Sarah never said I couldn’t send her stuff. She didn’t have to know it was from me. I just wanted her to have it.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

As soon as I got back into town, I called Maddie to let her know. I had stayed two days longer than originally planned. Of course, she had said that minding Hank was no problem, but I didn’t want to trouble her any further. Besides, I missed the scamp. I’d offered to pick him up, but she had insisted on bringing him to my apartment and planned on dropping him off after work.

My apartment seemed empty. All traces of Sarah were gone, even the candles. The large picture she had bought the day I met Maddie at Coopersmith’s no longer leaned against the wall. I had hoped it would still be there, as a sign that things could get back on track. She even took the fancy new margarita blender. I couldn’t blame her, but still.

The barren apartment closed in on me. I needed to get out on my bike. After my ride, which helped loosen my taut muscles from hours spent in the car, I unloaded my luggage. I had ended up buying a lot of bric-a-brac for my new place, as well as Sarah’s gifts. I stopped unpacking for a moment to look at them, piling the boxes on the table. As soon as I had, Maddie knocked on the door.

I let her into my apartment and freed Hank from his carrier. He immediately disappeared around the corner, into the back of the apartment.

“I guess he didn’t miss me all that much,” I said, watching his tail vanish around the door.

Maddie was staring at the pile of boxes stacked on the table. “I see Sarah rubbed off on you. It looks as though you hit every store in Jackson.”

I reddened.

“Can I see what you bought?” Of course, she didn’t wait for an answer. She mumbled to herself as she snapped open the jewelry boxes. “For some reason, I don’t see you wearing any of this.”

“I thought I would get some Christmas shopping done.”

“Of course. You’re always thinking ahead.” She paused and started to say something, but then didn’t.

I changed the subject by asking if she wanted to go to dinner. She accepted, but wanted to change first, so we decided to meet at Beau Jo’s Pizza. Coopersmith’s was off-limits now.

When she left, I hopped on my bike to ride to Old Town. Being alone in our apartment was not what I needed. The next day, I picked out one of Sarah’s necklaces and mailed it to her mother’s house. I didn’t include a note.

* * *

Ethan sat across from me with his arms folded. “So, did you find any answers while wandering aimlessly in the woods?”

“Yeah, I did, unfortunately.”

“What does that mean?” He looked skeptical.

“All this time, I’ve been trying to prove myself. Trying to be a survivor. I didn’t need anyone. No one was going to get in the way of my success.” I stirred more sugar into my chai. “I wasn’t going to be a waste of space. I was going to push myself and push myself to the top. Fuck Peter and my mom. I would be better than them. They would finally have to admit that I wasn’t a loser. But it didn’t feel right. Deep down, it didn’t feel right.”

“What didn’t?”

“All along, all these conversations and all those bike rides and hikes, I was searching for answers. What did I want? Why did I feel so lost and trapped? And the entire time, the answer was right there: Sarah was the answer.”

“Then why did you push her away?”

“Because. Is the answer
that
simple?”

“What do you mean?” Ethan cocked his head.

“Is that what life is about? I’ve worked so hard all of my life. Does anything I’ve done or accomplished matter? Or am I like everyone else, and all I want is someone to go home to? Someone to love me? What if she decides one day that she doesn’t love me anymore? Then what do I have? What if she decides that I wasn’t the person she thought I was?”

“Oh, honey. Is that what’s been driving you crazy? You don’t feel like you matter to the world? You need to stop thinking on such a cosmic level. Fuck the world! You don’t need to be a pre-eminent scholar. Just be you. Why do you try so hard to prove yourself? Stop turning your life into a challenge. Sit back and enjoy it. Sarah wasn’t going to leave you if you didn’t perform on a grand scale.”

“She did love me, didn’t she?” I felt tears dripping down my cheek and I looked away so he wouldn’t notice.

“Yes, Lizzie, she did.” He hesitated. “I’m betting that she still does. What are you going to do about it?”

“My head is spinning.” I closed my eyes and pictured her naked, dancing with me in front of the fire. I loved her so much.

“Life is so cruel, Ethan. I thought I was fading away or drowning in the relationship, that I was becoming normal. Buying a house. Settling down into a routine. I was afraid my life would become boring, or like my parents’ life. But now all I want is to have it all back. Sarah was the only thing that made sense.”

I fidgeted in my chair, not sure if I should get up or stay and finish my train of thought.

Stop running
.

“Growing up around my mom and Peter taught me that in order to survive I had to be strong and stay one step ahead. I focused so much on that thought, that I didn’t realize not everyone is like them.” I let my head fall back and stared at the ceiling. “All my life, my family let me down. Then, when I got sick, I felt like my body let me down. I kept waiting for Sarah to let me down. Ironically, I let her down. And I drove her away. Stability scares the hell out of me.” I looked at him. “What’s wrong with me?”