“And to think I liked you when I first met you. Funny,” I commented, getting up from the table. “But you’re right, as much as I hate to admit it. I do need to get out of this house to somewhere other than work. So let me call Cane so he can tell me he’s busy and then I’ll be ready. Give me twenty minutes.”
“That’s the spirit,” Kari exclaimed. Her exuberance was definitely more than I could handle.
I headed to my room and sat on the chair by the window.
If you call Cane, he’ll say he can’t see you today and you’ll have to pretend it doesn’t matter. Or you can just text him and save face.
Nodding at my own decision, I pulled up his text box.
Me: Max wants to take Kari and me to Pinnacle Peak today for a hike. What are the odds you may come by?
I chewed on a nail, waiting for his response to come in. It took a few minutes before I heard the ping.
Cane: I have a couple of meetings today, so if I do get a chance, it’ll be this evening. Why don’t you go ahead with Max?
Me: Will do.
Cane: I’ll see you soon, okay?
Me: Okay. Xo
I waited for a return message, but it didn’t come. With a heavy heart, I pulled on a pair of yoga pants, a yellow and gray-striped T-shirt, and some sneakers and went back downstairs; Kari and Max were waiting by the front door.
“Let’s get this over with.” My voice was decidedly less enthusiastic than it had been a few moments before. Having Cane bail on me again took the wind out of my sails.
We made our way out the front door and to his truck. He drove a black-on-black Ford F-150 that was all jacked up; it was pretty formidable.
“I only like you because of this truck, you know,” Kari mentioned as we climbed into the cab.
“Good to know,” he said before shutting his door and turning on the engine. A low rumble reverberated through my body as he backed out the driveway, flipping to a country station on his radio.
Besides Max answering a few work calls on his cell, the ride was pretty quiet. I found myself wishing that Cane was with us, but I reminded myself of his words:things would be back to normal soon.
I really hoped that was true. I missed him.
The more I thought about it, the more down I felt. I tried to focus on the banter between my sister and Max and the songs on the radio but nothing could overtake the worry, the fear that something was falling apart.
Before long, Max pulled into the parking lot of Pinnacle Peak and we got out of the truck.
“Seriously. Could this thing be any higher?” I asked as I descended to the ground.
“It could. But I felt any more would be overkill.” Max snickered.
“Ha ha.”
Max grabbed us bottles of water from the cooler in the back and led the way.
It was a beautiful day, the weather finally beginning to cool. The sun was bright but not baking and an easy breeze flowed. With each step on the granite-strewn trail, my mood elevated, too. Max paused dutifully as Kari and I stopped to take silly selfies by the cacti. As we got to the actual pinnacle, I was actually smiling.
Kari and Max walked to the other side, taking a selfie of their own, and I sat by myself on the hard ground. The desert looked beautiful from that elevation and I recalled a similar view I had seen with Cane by my side. I smiled as I remembered him opening up to me a little that night, sharing stories about his family. Looking out across the city from a different point than I did that night, I realized everything looked differently, depending on the perspective.
I glanced over to my right and saw a delicate flower growing in the midst of a strip of bare desert floor. It had a thick stalk lodged in a crack in the earth; its spectacular peachy-hued petals were basking in the sun.
This little flower made it, I realized, through tons of adversity. It overcame the rocks, the heat, and the location and blossomed because it fought for what it wanted.
I stood and looked out across the desert.
I needed to fight for what I wanted, too.
