“Tag. I need to get up there.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. I need to get up there.” She pointed to the rope and the little disc they’d used to balance on.
“Oh great, your friend Goldie’s going to think I slipped you some drugs, and you’ve started to hallucinate.”
“Tag, I’m either going up there on my own, or you can help me.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Maybe.”
“I kind of like it.”
Between the two of them, they got the rope free.
Tag grabbed it and pulled on it. “It feels pretty secure.”
“Thanks, okay, so. You’re going to push me.”
“I figured. Are you sure about this? I mean, your friends and family seem to think you’re already a cracked eggshell. And my push could have me crashing down. Balance ain’t the strong suit right now, you get it?”
“I’m sure about this, and you’ll be fine. Really. I trust you.” She trusted him? What was she saying? Viv had decided to throw caution to the wind all of a sudden. She was compelled by something she didn’t quite understand but didn’t feel like stopping to analyze.
Viv knew it was her recent memory of this very moment. Why had that memory come to her? After all these years? Why had she wound up right here?
Nothing in the last year had been fun, nothing had been alive, nothing had been hopeful. She’d lived in a scared state. She’d worried about food, rest, stitches, energy, treatments, positive thinking, negative thinking, her financial affairs, her living will, her business, and just everything. And nothing. More than half the time, her mind would go blank, she’d lose her train of thought, or she couldn’t concentrate.
Seeing that rope put one thing on her mind. No amount of logic or warning was going to divert her.
“Okay, just know, I can drag you back in, but it will take a second to get my brace off before I can jump in if you start drowning.”
“I’m not doing a cliff dive in Mexico, for goodness’ sake. It’s a rope in Irish Hills. Besides, I’ve done it before. I’m not going to drown. You won’t even get a splash on you.”
“Okay.”
Viv took off her shoes. And grabbed the rope. Her grip was tight. She looked out into the water. It was the same, exactly the same. She knew it was deep enough if she let go when the rope arched.
“You don’t really push; you pull back on the rope and then let it rip.” Tag grabbed the top of the rope above her head as she issued her directive. They were nose to nose.
“You’re a whack job, you realize it, right?”
“Ha, yeah, takes one to know one.” Viv had lost all reason, she’d supposed, at this minute.
“Okay, don’t forget to let go or—”
“I’ll slam back into the tree. Oh, trust me, I know.”
They locked eyes. Viv recognized something in Tag, and he in her. They’d both recently faced a death sentence, or nearly so. Maybe that was it. And maybe seeing him not give a tinker’s damn about being gentle with himself was a good prompting for her. She wasn’t as easy to break as she thought. Who knew? What she did know was what it was like to sail through the air right here.
“Ready?”
“Yep. Let it rip.”
Viv squeezed the rope with her arms, and she tightened her legs around it. She realized there would be no chance of her holding on too long. She’d barely cleared the shore. But she was going to do it.
Tag leaned on his good leg. She felt a little bad, he’d probably lose his balance executing this maneuver. But he didn’t seem to mind.
