I hadn’t thought about the weather conditions when I suggested this date. All I was focused on was spending the day with Noelle and getting to know her better. I didn’t consider how cloud cover could impact the trip, which is really dumb considering I’m a pilot and should have known better.
It didn’t even occur to me until I mentioned the date to Tyler, and he immediately whipped out his phone to check the weather. “Looks like thirty percent chance of precipitation that day,” he reported. “So you should have decent visibility.”
“Visibility?” I parroted like a damn idiot.
He shot me anare you seriouslook. “The cloud cover? So you can actuallyseethe mountain and views around it?”
Right.
So I spent the next two days studying the weather forecast so intently I think I could moonlight as a meteorologist. And every time the prediction would shift towards clouds, I’d debate with myself whether I should call Noelle to reschedule or suggest a different date.
But fortunately, Mother Nature took mercy on me. When I woke up just after sunrise this morning, the forecast for the drive to Mount Hood was a string of sun icons with no hint of rain in sight.
Honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered to me if the views were shit. One of the perks of being a pilot is that I’ve seen some of the most incredible views—shimmering seas in rich shades of blues and greens, lush forests and jungles teeming with life, and even the ancient ruins of Persepolis.
But I wanted the date to be perfect for Noelle, and that meant her actually being able to see the mountain. And so far, it’s been perfect—the sky a brilliant blue dusted by a few wispy clouds, contrasting with the snowy peak of Mount Hood in the distance.
“I didn’t even think about that before,” Noelle admits. “Not until I was talking to Jaz—she’s my best friend—last night. Maybe eight years ago, she was performing inCatson a national tour. While they were in Portland, they decided to visit Mount Hood. But none of them had checked the weather beforehand, and when they got up here, there was zero visibility. All they could see were clouds.”
“Same,” I tell her. “I didn’t even think of it until my friend mentioned it. Which is dumb, because both my previous jobs were heavily impacted by the weather. I guess I just got out of the habit of checking.”
Noelle nods thoughtfully. “That makes sense. If you’re flying a helicopter, I’m sure you’d want to know what the weather’s supposed to be like.”
“Yeah. I mean, unless there was a literal hurricane, we’d probably fly, anyway. But still, it was important to be prepared. Then when I was working in the Adirondacks, we always needed to keep track of the weather. Like if there was a thunderstorm predicted, we couldn’t exactly take a group of kayakers out on the lake.”
“No, I suppose not.” A beat later, she laughs. “Jaz used to always try to get me to go on adventures like that whenever I’d visit her in New York. On her days off, she’d suggest heading out to the Catskills or up to the Adirondacks to go camping.”
Slowing as the road splits into a V, I flick the turn signal to go left before asking, “Did you go?”
“Once,” she replies. “We went up to this place near Lake George to go glamping. She told me it was like camping-lite. We’d still get the camping experience, but with electricity and working bathrooms.”
From the twitch of her lips, I have a feeling the story didn’t have a happy ending. “How did it go?”
Noelle smiles as she shakes her head. “Not well. I got a zillion mosquito bites, because that’s something the glamping website didn’t mention—that the Adirondacks are a haven for mosquitoes in the summer. Plus, I accidentally walked through poison ivy and got it all over my ankles. And I discovered I’m allergic to pine bark. So that was a surprise.”
“So you haven’t been glamping again, I assume?”
“No. I put my foot down. Now when I visit her, we stick to stuff in the city. And a walk through Central Park is as outdoorsy as it gets.”
As her words sink in, I look around at the thousands of pine trees around us. And I think about the hike to Tamanawas Falls we’d discussed, which definitely fits the definition of outdoorsy.
My stomach sinks.
“Noelle, we didn’t have to come out here,” I say. “With all the pine trees, and if you don’t like the outdoors…”
She pats my arm. “It’s fine, Webb. As long as I don’t touch the trees, I’m okay. And if I do, I just need to clean my hands off.” Bending over to reach into her bag, she pulls out a small package of wet-wipes. “That’s why I brought these.”
“But the hike. We talked about seeing the falls, but if you’re not into that kind of thing?—”
“I looked it up,” she interrupts. “It’s an easy hike, plus, it’s not like we’re going to be sleeping out there. We’ll walk to the falls, enjoy the views, take some pictures, and head back. I can handle that kind of outdoor adventure.”
“Still. I wanted to pick something you’d enjoy.”
“Iwillenjoy it. I can’t wait to see the mountain close up. Plus, the falls look gorgeous. I’ve been looking forward to this for days.”
“Okay. Good.” I glance away from the road to look at her. “I’ve been looking forward to this for days, too.”
I’m not just saying that to be polite. It’s the truth. In the four days since I asked Noelle out, I’ve had troublenotthinking about our date—wondering how it would go, if we’d have enough to talk about during the seventy-minute car ride to Mount Hood and back, or if I’d end up regretting picking a day-long date instead of the more traditional dinner and a movie.
