“Are you okay?”
“Can you at least rememberwhenwas the last time you read a book?”
“Oh, yeah.” I nod. “High school.”
“I can’t.” She actually appears to be pained by my answer.
“It’s okay, Rosalie.”
“I just can’t believe a person can go”—she pauses—“How old are you?”
“I’ll be thirty next month.”
“How can a person go over a decade without reading a book?”
Under the shade of the trees, I drop the cooler to the ground and shake out the big blanket. “Well, I do knowhowto read, if that makes you feel better.”
“That makes it worse!” She reaches for one end of the blanket, and together we spread it over the ground.
“This really bothers you.” I chuckle, taking a seat on the blanket and kicking off my boots.
“Of course it does.” She sits at the corner, farthest from me. “You have all the tools to enjoy an escape to a magical world and you just . . . choose not to. I don’t understand it.”
“I use other activities to escape to a magical place.”
“I’m aware,” she scoffs.
“You didn’t seem to complain.”
She pulls a book from her bag. “We aresonot discussing that.”
“Fair.” I lie back and take my hat off, resting it on my head so the brim covers my eyes. “Enjoy your book. I’m gonna enjoy this nap.”
I don’t mean to sleep long. In fact, I don’t really intend to sleep at all. But the sounds of the forest along with the babble of the creek lull me under and when I come to, my body is warm from the sun and my stomach is grumbling with hunger.
I turn my cheek, pleased to see Rosalie is still enjoying her book. She’s kicked off her socks and shoes, reclined onto her back, and is holding her book up to read while simultaneously blocking the sun.
“Good book?” I ask, setting my hat to the side.
She grins, turning her head to meet my gaze. “The best. How was your nap?”
“Perfection.” I sit up and reach for the cooler. “I’m hungry, though.”
“Let me know when you want to head back,” she says.
“Are you enjoying it out here?”
“I am.”
“Well, I’m in no rush.”
Rosalie rolls to her stomach, switching positions as she continues reading.
I pull out one of the wrapped sandwiches. It’s been forever since I’ve picnicked so leisurely. Listening to the sounds of birds chirping, a peacefulness settles over me that is all-consuming. I don’t do this enough. I don’t stop and just appreciate where I am. Maybe that’s the downfall of working and living on this land my entire life. It’s become so normalized, I rarely pause to admire the grandeur of it all.
“Do you have any more sandwiches in there?” Rosalie draws me out of my thoughts.
“You bet I do.” I reach into the cooler to pass her a sandwich. “I brought strawberries too. And chips.”
