For the Best (11 page)

“You’re my tour guide. I’m at your mercy,” I
teased. “So tell me about your friends?” I wasn’t sure how long the
journey to the closest park entrance would take but my curiosity
was getting the best of me.

“Your roommate is a fun guy. Always up for
hanging out. I’m not fond of my own roommate. She’s a bit much.
You’ll see. There is an older woman named April who I really like.
She just got divorced and ended a fifteen year career last year. I
admire her spirit. She said she missed opportunities like this in
her youth and she was trying to fix that.”

I looked down and noticed the bars on my
cell diminished to none. She must have caught me checking. “You
won’t have a signal in the park but on the eastside where we are
staying if you drive back out to the highway, a short distance, it
will work.”

“Good.” I powered it down to save the
battery. We approached the park entrance and she avoided the
traffic line of tourist cars opting for the park pass lane. A
ranger waved us through. In no time she pulled off the highway into
a small village.

“The café has good wraps. I think the food
here is better than at our lodge,” as she spoke I had to squash
another urge to touch her. When she was mine I would have wrapped
my arm around her shoulder or stuck my hand in her back pocket as
we walked. It was a hard feeling to stifle.

Once ordered, I paid. She hesitated, I think
she wanted to refuse but then she said, “Thanks!”

We took our fare to a picnic table that
looked out on the scenic lake surrounded by the Rocky
Mountains.

“How is Trevor doing?” she asked taking a
bite.

“Good. He has a girlfriend.”

“Really? Have you met her?”

“Yeah. She has Down’s too. Always smiling
seems happier than anyone I’ve ever met. She has long brown hair
which Trevor pointed out multiple times to me saying she looked
like you.” The blush that crept through her tan wrenched my
heart.

“It’s funny, you know? The world views them
as challenged but Trev always seemed the most well-balanced of
anyone I knew. Hardly anything got him down. Sometimes I was
envious of his innocent perspective of life.” Her voice faded into
the sound of a breeze rustling the leaves in the trees above mixed
with the lull of lapping water on the shore.

“How do you like work?” I asked to break the
quiet that stole up on us.

“Well, it isn’t exactly rocket science but I
enjoy it. We wear these name tags with our home state on them so
people ask me where in Florida I’m from a lot. It’s a conversation
starter because I follow their question with where are you from, do
you like it there, etc. I am really interested in learning where
people think are great places to live.”

“Picked out your next destination?” I asked
hoping she hadn’t so I could convince her to come back with me
after the summer ended.

“Not really. People from Texas, California
and New York always seem the most enthusiastic about where they
live, but then again so do the city residents of Boston, Chicago
and Phoenix. I’m waiting to meet some people from places I’m
curious about living long-term.”

My heart plummeted. “Where sparks your
interest?”

“State wise Colorado, Oregon, Washington,
Maine, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Louisiana.” She stared off at
a fish leaping from the water.

“Those are some varied locations,” I replied
praying if I couldn’t get her in Florida she’d choose the
south.

“Yeah. It really will be where I can find a
job other than in the service industry.”

Here was my chance. Picking my words
carefully, I tried not to sound like I was lecturing. “So still no
thoughts of college?”

Her eyes met mine. “No, I don’t think that
is going to happen.”

“How come?”

“I have looked through a lot of majors
offered. I don’t want to be trapped inside a building, definitely
not stuck behind a desk.”

“You could do sales.”

“I don’t really have the tenacity. I’m not a
closer,” she answered.

“Veterinarians don’t work inside all the
time. At least not livestock vets. Didn’t you used to want to be
one?” I brought up her old dream.

“I prefer domestic pets and the goals of
childhood don’t appeal to me anymore.”

I took our conversation and ran.
“Archaeology? You always liked digging for shells in the sand.”

She shook her head with a smile. “Nope.”

“You used to plant a great kitchen garden.
How about agriculture?”

“I have considered buying a farm and doing
one of those corn mazes that are popular at Halloween. But no.”

I laughed. “Fair enough.” I waited a second.
“Fashion? You have an amazing sense of style.”

“Appealing but I think I don’t have the
flair for the dramatic like they show on
Project
Runway
.”

“You love reading and watching crime dramas
and mysteries. What about criminology?”

“My high school records would eliminate that
choice.” There was no accusation in her words, but I flinched
anyway.

I grew quiet.

“Okay, if you have so many options which
major are you choosing?” she called my bluff.

“Something in either Landscape Architecture
or Golf and Sports Turf Management,” I blurted it out. I hadn’t
even thought it through but suddenly it made sense.

“You’d be happy doing something like that.”
She scrunched up our trash and emptied it into a bear proof garbage
receptacle. She reached for my hand this time before she realized
what she was doing. With barely a brush of fingers she clenched her
fist and folded her arms across her chest. “We’d better get going.
That’s a dark cloud to the west and the construction ahead could
slow us down. There is a short hike we’ll take before we call it a
day.”

Back in the car, she tuned to an AM station
to get park information and a staticy, dull voiced recording
relayed weather. Eventually she turned it off. “No other stations
transmit through this area,” she explained.

We kept ascending in altitude up the
mountain road and she told me her schedule for the week since her
hours and workdays fluctuated dawn to dusk. The clouds opened up
and the rain turned to mist, then sleet, and snow. We were halted
by a road crew for fifteen minutes as they paved. The view from the
passenger side was straight down with mountains in the distance,
the driver’s side was a cliff face that wept water from the rain as
waterfalls cascaded. She rattled off some spots she recommended I
visit along the Road to the Sun as if I was here for any reason
other than her.

She pulled off the road at the visitor’s
center when the sign indicated Logan’s Pass. The parking lot was
packed with cars but she found a spot close to the stairs.

“You might want to get out your coat,” she
instructed as she shrugged a jacket waist Sherpa lined pink hoodie
over her t-shirt.

The beginning was over a boardwalk where the
once frozen ground was still soggy. Then we began ascending uphill.
I was glad I’d bought the expensive hiking boots but more thankful
for the jeans I still kept on and her coat advisement. Hanna’s
shorts and hiking boot combo told me she had acclimated to the
chill breezing from the meadow surrounding the trail. The view from
behind her of taunt long legs meeting her tight butt as she climbed
each step kept me smiling through the strenuous climb. Every so
often she would stop talking, and walk backwards telling me to turn
around. The wildflowers and chipmunks of the mountain valley didn’t
interest me nearly as much as staring at the girl I had missed for
the past year.

We arrived at perfect lighting as the lake
mirrored the surrounding mountains. The landscape was filled with
snow-capped peaks, and slender waterfalls surrounding the lake.
Hanna pointed out clusters of white and when I focused the mountain
goats became clearer.

“Maybe we can do the Highline Trail to
Sperry Lake Chalet sometime. That’s if we ever get a full day off
together. Lots of bighorn sheep congregate on the trail.”

“What’s its claim to fame?” I asked.

“You hike,” she paused, “I think six miles
each way to get to the Granite Park Chalet. This old hotel built in
1913 out of rocks. We wouldn’t have the time to spend the night but
the rush is that the trail has all this spectacular scenery and
wildlife.”

I studied her smiling face. “Didn’t you used
to be afraid of what lurked in the Atlantic’s depths? Doesn’t
wildlife around here include animals that want to eat you?” I
teased.

“Well, I would never want to encounter a
bear, grizzly or black, but I can appreciate observing them from a
distance. I just don’t want to let any experiences pass me by. You
know you only go round once. Or a thousand times depending on your
religious preference,” she joked.

She sat on the ground and I joined her.
Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, she watched various
families. Two young teenage girls were working at irritating their
parents. A distracted couple was letting their toddler wander off
unattended.

“Have you spread your mom’s ashes yet?” I
asked delicately.

“No, I was waiting for you.”

Overwhelmed by hoping that she had wanted me
there for the occasion I quelled the moment with a probing
question, “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No,” she didn’t hesitate.

“Me either. Have you?” The stark expression
that passed her face when I asked that question made me want to eat
the words.

“There was a time when knowing who you’d
been with mattered. It doesn’t anymore. As for who I’ve been with,
that is none of your business.”

I backtracked, “Fair enough, but just so you
know there has been no one else since you left.”

She nodded and stared ahead. “We’d better
head out 6a.m. comes early for me.” She rose and started walking
not looking to see if I followed.

The visual was like footage from the travel
channel, so many beautiful spots. We passed another lake, that one
bigger than the other. Then we left the park venturing north on a
desolate highway until we turned again, entering another
entrance.

Around dusk, we parked in front of a small
two story dark brown Swiss Chalet structure set back from the
primary hotel. Though rustic, it was appealing. The view was
decent, a rolling rock strewn creek surrounded by mountains.

Our arms were overflowing
with grocery bags and my gear.
Up a flight of stairs where
an exterior door was propped open with a river rock, we walked down
a sparse uninviting hallway to a room that Hanna already had a key
to open. Inside it was dingy white with twin beds set in the middle
and plumbing pipes snaking across the ceiling. One bed was unmade
with a half opened nightstand jammed with unfolded t-shirts, boxers
and various other articles of clothing. The other I assumed was
mine.

A young guy with shaggy black hair to his
shoulders and a sparse beard appeared in the doorway. His earbuds
were loud enough for outside the eardrum audio assault. He smiled
at Hanna and yanked out the tiny wire. The music amplified.

“Hey,” he greeted us.

“Hi.”
She set down her lot
and handed the guy the bag with the Power Bars. Then stuck her hand
in her front pocket and retrieved his receipt wrapped around his
credit card, tossing the key to the room on my bed.

“Thanks.” He smiled as he sorted through the
bag before devouring one that smelled like peanut butter.

“No problem,” she replied
seeming perturbed with him. She turned to me.
“This is my
friend and your roommate, Glade.”

I so wanted to say,
‘Like the air
freshener?’
I didn’t, opting to offer a handshake instead.
“Tanner.”

He nodded. “Been looking forward to meeting
you.” He accepted my hand squeezing a little attitude my way.

“You seem settled in.” I looked around the
room.

“Part of the grounds opening crew along with
Hanna. How was your trip?”

“Good. Long.”

“You guys been gone awhile.” He focused on
Hanna again.

“Yeah, after groceries we grabbed lunch at
Apgar and ate it overlooking Lake McDonald. Took the Road to the
Sun. Stopped at most of the pull offs. Got caught up in
construction through a snowstorm at Logan Pass. Did the Hidden Lake
Trail.”

“Kali has the gym sock tied around the
door,” he stated.

She rolled her eyes. “What’s new?”

He laughed. “I think she molested another
foreign kid.”

Hanna turned to me. “You know those maps of
the US that go on RVs?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I got a head case for a suitemate.
She has one of the world. She is experiencing global travel via its
citizens.”

They both laughed.

“You okay with her as a roommate?” I
asked.

“To each his own. Be glad my bed is up
against this wall.” She knocked on the heavily patched sheetrock
flanking the twin bed I was given. Only a hundred year old scrap of
plaster and lattice separated her from me.

Hanna was making an excuse to leave, “I know
it’s early.” My eyes checked the digital clock by Glade’s bed. “But
I’m up before dawn almost every day this coming week and you guys
can male bond or something better without me.” She looked my way
and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She slipped out the door. I noticed it was
either the type that automatically closed or the building was so
old and slanted that it shut on its own.

Glade tipped his head my way. “They assign
roommates based on your job so you don’t disturb each other with
early morning rising if the other doesn’t have to.”

“Makes sense.” I worked the swollen
nightstand drawer by my bedside back and forth until it pulled out.
Emptying some of my duffel inside, I couldn’t get it pushed back. I
realized apparently Glade’s didn’t work either.