There’s a river near the lodge, nothing too wild, but enough to kayak when it’s warm. Water laps and crashes. No need to run with headphones when you can listen to the sound of splashing water and birds.
I’ve been a runner for as long as I can remember. I never joined the track or cross-country team because, as stupid as it sounded, I wanted to keep it for myself. Running is one of the ways I think something through or chill my brain out.
Or if I need to keep myself busy. Which has been frequent, as of late.
I stop at the clearing and look out over the water. I’ll never forget the first time Hazel screamed at me about some damn soothing moment. We were out for a run when she was pretending she was a seasoned runner and could keep up with her big brother.
She couldn’t.
“HOLL, STOP!” Hazel screams, and my skin immediately gets goosebumps. A wave of panic hits me in the gut, and I run back towards her.
“Hazel, are you okay?! What’s hurt?” I’m next to her and she has her hands on her knees. My own breath is ragged. I’m checking her over, looking for a bone breaking through the skin or blood coming from somewhere.
She picks herself up, gulping in air. No bone. No blood. “I’m… okay…” She ultimately gets out between breaths. “I didn’t want you to miss it,” she says, with excitement at the edge of her voice.
“You can’t do that! I thought something happened.” I push her playfully, and she immediately laughs. “What the hell are you talking about? What can’t I miss?” I’m looking around trying to figure it out.
“It’s the moment. Can’t you feel it? Stop and take a breath,” she says with her eyes closed. “A real breath.”
I follow her lead and once my eyes have been closed for a few seconds, I may not feel it, but I do hear it. There’s water lapping somewhere close, birds chirping, and a light wind rustles the trees. It’s like the perfect sounds of outside combined.
She reaches for my hand when our eyes are closed, and I don’t flinch.
I don’t know for how long we stand there. When I’m about to move on, Hazel squeezes my hand. “Holl, you can’t always zip from place to place. You need more soothing moments.” She emphasizes “soothing.”
I wrap my arms around her shoulder into a fake headlock and we both laugh before she screams about my sweaty armpits.
It feels like I relive that entire memory while I’m stopped.
But then I remember about tonight. How I made plans. Why did I do that?
I’ve gone back and forth on whether I’ll go or not. I could cancel, and by cancel, I mean just not show up and I’d never see this woman ever again. She’d go back to whatever city she’s from and maybe mention the guy who helped her out but then ghosted her. Or maybe not? Seems like something I could live with.
But then her face comes roaring back. The one where she broke into a smile after pure panic. There was something there. It was genuine. Like she meant it.
My brain has gone to great lengths to come up with excuses and reasons I can’t go to gatherings; but tonight, I offered myself up. To a complete stranger. Fuck.
I can’t put my finger on it. But I know deep down I’m not standing this woman up. There’s something about her.
And I kind of want to figure it out. Which scares the hell out of me.
Chapter Ten
DAY TWO OF THE event went much smoother than the first. I stare at the mostly empty table in front of me, relishing in this feeling of unexpected success, even after such a disastrous start. I have just enough time to take down the display before the wrap-up event. I pack everything up and throw the extras in my bag.
It’s challenging to take care of everything by myself, but I do it. After dropping everything off to get shipped back to the office, and my bag back in my room, I head directly to the event. When I step outside, the first thing I see is a custom sign reading “Enjoy the NETworking.”
A variety of hammocks—all shapes, and sizes—surround the outskirts of a makeshift bar in the center. There are even netted swings throughout. Small side tables nestle among the nets and swings—a perfect place for you to set your cocktail. Well done, Royce.
I stand next to one of the swings. It looks like a trampoline but made with tightly woven rope where you can sit with a friend or two. This is something the city definitely doesn’t have. Connected to a strong branch above, I look up, amazed this can hang from a tree in this open space. My hands push the swing and I watch it move, back and forth.
There’s no need for me to find the bar because servers move around thearea, each equipped with a tray of craft cocktails. As the thought of looking for a drink crosses my mind, a server steps in front of me, showing off their options. A small sign calling out the local ingredients used in each one sits on the tray in front of the choices. I pick lavender lemonade, the mocktail option, and my mouth waters before I can put it to my lips.
The lemonade is tart but still sweet on my tongue. The lavender comes through, strong enough but not overpowering, at the end. Delicious.
Sipping my drink, I explore the outdoor space. Most clients and venues would never think to do something like this. Most event planners want to be as efficient as possible which usually translates into mediocre wine and beer in a ballroom. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been to an outdoors after-hours event.
The social butterfly in me pulls to the fringe of a group. It’s mixed with people I’m familiar with and some new faces. Someone I know smiles at me, recognizing my presence, and I easily fall into conversation.
