Megs took his hand, squeezed. “They love you.”
Rain hugged them both. “We’ve got your usual table ready.”
Joe always set aside a table for Team members back near the climbing wall. It was his way of thanking them for their service.
They walked toward the back, Mitch shaking hands with friends and neighbors along the way, managing to get out the words “Thank you” a few dozen times without too much struggle.
The Team table had been replaced by several tables with enough seats for the Team members, their spouses and kids, the dirtbags, and Kurt and Jennifer. Most of the Team was already there, though Nicole, Sasha, Creed Herrera, and Moretti were climbing and not in their seats.
“A climbing wall in a pub?” Gridwall’s face lit up, and he dropped his jacket over the back of his seat. “Booze and big jugs. Mama, I’m home.”
Rain set menus on the table. “We told our route-setter who was coming tonight, and she put extra effort into creating some tough routes for you. Oh, hey, it looks like the rest of your gang is here. Welcome to Knockers. I’m Rain Moffat.”
After they had given Cheyenne their drink orders, they hit the wall, Megs and Mitch only too happy to join them. Gridwall and Cook flashed the hardest route on the wall—a 5.14. Accardo slipped once, but otherwise nailed it. Then it was Megs’ turn, her first climb since the accident.
God, it felt good.
Soon, almost everyone in the restaurant had come to watch, the area around the climbing wall crowded.
“Do you know who these guys are?” Joe said to someone. “They’re climbing royalty. They basically invented this sport. Don’t let the gray hair fool you. They’re the best of the best.”
Sasha lowered Megs to the floor. “Do you want to go next, Mitch?”
Mitch’s pulse spiked. “I d-don’t know if…”
Megs didn’t want to push him. “I’ll belay if you want to try. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You can start out with the 5.9 route.”
“Okay.” With Megs’ help, he got into the harness and moved to the bottom of the easiest route on the wall. “On belay.”
“Belay on.”
“Cl…climbing.”
“Climb on, love.”
After a moment of sheer panic, Mitch began to climb, the room falling still. It was both more complicated and simpler than Mitch had imagined. Because of his neck injury, it was hard to look up, and the area near his healed clavicle hurt every time he used that arm. But his muscle memory was still there, the moves almost instinctive. Before he realized it, he was nearly there. When he topped out, the room exploded into cheers.
From below, he heard Megs’ voice. “That’s my man.”
Megs’heart was full. Kurt’s words about Dean’s death. Climbing with the dirtbags again. Seeing the town rally around the man she loved. Watching Mitch climb again. Tonight, life was good.
She sat beside Mitch, their fingers entwined as they watched Gridwall coach Kurt to the top of the 5.9 route. “If Dean could see Kurt, he’d be so proud of his boy.”
“How do you … kn-know … he doesn’t see?”
“I hope he does. I truly hope he does.”
Marcia brought another round of brews. “I’m so glad you’re doing better, Mitch. We were so worried about you.”
Mitch gave her that gorgeous smile of his. “Thanks, M-marcia.”
They cheered for Kurt when he topped out, Gridwall slapping Kurt on the back. “You’re a natural, just like your old man.”
Megs could tell from Kurt’s expression that those words meant something to him.
Then Joe got on the stage, tapped the mic. “Can you all hear me?”
“Yes!” the crowd shouted in near unison.
