She led him through the old pasture, and past that elm, just as dawn’s light tickled the tips of the long grass there. She cut across Whiskey Creek to the secret shortcut up to the Full Moon Falls trail that every kid who grew up there knew about.
From there, it was a pretty decent long hike, with plenty of rises, but they were both used to walking. They startled deer on the trail. A chorus of birdsong, a half dozen varieties, had started up, and they enjoyed that as a soundtrack as they walked.
He’d seen this trail in nearly every light, in every season, and he never tired of it because if you were born in the country you grew to appreciate the subtleties: when the Indian paintbrush and Scotch broom and wildflowers bloomed, which trees leafed out when, which ones were bound to put on the biggest fall show.
And suddenly he knew where they were going.
He just wasn’t entirely sure whyshewas leading him here.
They stood in front of the vast, ancient tree known locally as the Eternity Oak.
“Okay, Eli. You know how you told me not to say anything, right? I’m going to answer you now. But my answer is illustrated.”
She led him over to the tree, and ducked behind the vast trunk to one of the branches that reached out toward the fall.
And a shaft of morning light lit them up:
GHG + ELB
His breath left him in a gust. “Glory...”
She turned to study the effect of this on him, and her smile was huge.
“I carved them there early in the morning the day after your seventeenth birthday. Remember that knife Jonah gave to me one Christmas, that cheap little pocketknife? It was the day after I played that song for you. After the party, I had to do something. I think I always knew, Eli. I just didn’t know what to call what I felt. And then I did. And this is what I did about it. You know me—I go all in. It’s okay to cry now.”
“I’m not crying.”
That was actually a little bit of a lie.
“So what I’m saying, Eli, is it’s impossible for you to ever be the reason the world feels smaller to me. You have to know thatyoukind of already gave the whole world to me. And by that I mean that I feel free and safe and brave when I’m with you.”
He swallowed.
“So if you think you’re doing me any favors by deciding you’d better, oh, let me go, shooing me off like some wild bird that you’ve raised, or something... well that’s too bad. You’re stuck with me. I am music, I guess, and music is me, but as long as I have you, everything else in my life is a grace note. Life doesn’t make sense without you. Eli... you should know thatyouare all my songs. And all my songs are you. One way or another. I don’t see that ever changing.”
He gave a stunned laugh.
Next to “I love you,” it was the best thing anyone had ever said to him.
He stroked her hair away from her face. Looked down into those midnight-blue eyes.
“Wanna hear something funny?” he asked her.
“Always.”
“It’s quite a coincidence,” he warned.
He saw in her face that she anticipated what he was about to do.
“Come over here, Glory. I’m going to have to give you a boost. ” He knelt and hoisted her up by the waist as if they were figure skaters performing a routine.
“Hurry. I’m strong but you’re not a feather. Run your hand along that branch there. Then look at it.”
She did.
He felt her go still.
And he saw her face light up like a sunrise. She laughed. “Eli... Oh my God.”
