I couldn't explain it though I knew there was something magical about this town. For me, for us. It was more than the slower pace, more than the forest and sea. It was a place for wandering but also finding. It was roots—permanence—without losing any of the wildness that pumped in my veins. And I knew it was inside Neera too.
I continued to doubt my ability to find this town—hell, the state—on a map, but I wanted to stick around. More than that, I wanted Neera to stick around with me. I wanted to keep all of this.
* * *
Why Neera agreedto come on a walk through the woods while the sun was still busy rising would always be a mystery to me. Regardless, I managed to get her out of bed and out of the house without attracting the attention of our hosts and that was a gift because I needed time with her. Time and space to make my case, make her see the things I saw.
We walked in silence for several minutes as I searched for the rock I'd noticed the first time I'd explored this area. I'd wanted her to see this and I'd wanted to see her here. It took several more minutes of heading in one direction, doubling back, starting off in another direction, retreating, and finally settling on the right path before that strange, wonderful outcropping.
"Isn't this amazing?" I asked as we circled the exposed rock. "There's so much I could do with this."
She blinked at the rock. "Sculpting, you mean?"
"Maybe but also—anything," I said. "It's marvelous to study. It's a story waiting to be told." I dropped my hands to her waist and steered her toward it. "Sit there for me. Please," I added when she gave me a baleful stare. I shrugged my backpack off my shoulders and retrieved a sketchbook and charcoal. "Please, sparrow."
She nestled on the upper slab, her legs tucked under her and her body angled toward the ocean. "Is this what you want?"
I stared at her, perched on the edge of a majestic rock as if she was presiding over this land. I flipped open my book as images flooded my mind's eye. "This is exactly what I want." Not missing her slight eyeroll, I continued, "I've learned a few things about this land since we've been here. The land and the people who have lived on it throughout time. I don't know those stories well enough to tell them yet, but I want to find my way there. I want to learn and I want to figure it out because when I came across this rock and saw it jutting out of the ground like it'd been thrown down from the heavens or shot out of hell, I knew I had to translate this story. I want to tell the story of this place."
She ran her fingers over the mossy ledge, saying, "I like this side of you. The hyper, driven side. I like that you've shared it with me and…I can't wait to see the story you tell."
Still staring at her fingers as they stroked the moss, I asked, "Will you tell me a story?"
"What kind of story?"
"A story of the future," I said, my gaze fixed on her hand while I sketched. "What comes next? Where do we go?Whoare we?"
"That's a complicated story," she replied, twisting her hands together.
"I don't think it is." I flipped to a new page. "What do you want to do with your life, Neera? Tell me that."
I could feel her frowning at me for several heavy beats before she asked, "In what sense?"
"The rock you're sitting on has been here for at least twelve thousand years. Probably longer. I stumbled upon it a few days ago and I knew—I fuckingknew—it deserved attention. It came from somewhere and it served purposes great and small and it's worth remembering." I turned the page, started sketching again. "What do you want from this life, Neera?"
She sucked in a breath and I knew the dam was breaking.
"I want to do something," she started, her voice smaller than I'd ever heard it, "something of my own."
"It's your turn to beseen, isn't it?" Another breath and I could almost see her heart swelling with the pleasure of recognition. "That's what it is. Recognitionofyou,foryou. Not because of anyone else but because you're brilliant and talented and you've earned it."
She hesitated. "I think—"
"No," I argued. "Youknowwhat you want. Say it. Just fucking say it, sparrow. We're all alone out here. You and me and a rock that's nowhere near as tough as you.Say it."
"I want to build something that will outlast me, something that will leave a mark." She ran her fingers through her hair, her lips pursed and her eyes unfocused on the horizon. "I want to get better, more accessible math and science and coding instruction in public schools. I want to make it more attractive to build technology that improves quality of life rather than that objective being secondary to profit and IPO valuations. I want to build windmill farms in developing countries and solar arrays in the desert, and I want to fund midwives and nurse practitioners in every small, impoverished town in this country. And it's not because philanthropy calls to my soul or I feel a need to give back after years of raking in exorbitant corporate profit. It's not about nurturing or any other maternal bullshit that gets pinned on women who put their energy into these endeavors. We need math instruction because we need talent. We need quality of life tech because the population of many developed nations is aging faster than the greater population is growing, and younger generations can't carry that burden alone. We need wind and solar and midwives because those developing countries and small towns represent talent pipelines and untapped markets. We need to create the world we want to do business in if we want to keep seeing those profits. And I want"—she shook her head as if this one was the true impossibility—"I want to make decisions rather than executing on someone's decisions."
"Then why don't you?"
"Because"—she slapped her palms against the stone—"because Cole needs me."
"I don't know shit about the internet—"
"Your Instagram engagement says otherwise," she quipped. "You know how to save the best moments for your followers."
I didn't know what I'd done wrong, but I knew it was something and I wanted to fix it right now. I glanced down at myself, considering my shirt. I pulled it over my head, rubbed a charcoal-darkened hand over my chest, and asked, "Better?"
She tipped her chin down. Her eyes answered for her. Yes, this was better. But she still frowned, asking, "Do you plan on posting a pic of this for your fans?"
