“Are you watching me sleep?” Daisy asks, opening one eye to peer at me. “Creep.” She scoots her pillow toward mine and locks our legs together like roots from two trees planted side by side.
“We should go soon,” I say as a gentle reminder.
“I know.”
“How are you doing?”
She breathes in deeply and burrows close to me. Today’s a complicated day for her, and I want to make sure she has the space to feel whatever she needs to feel.
“Sad, but also…” Her fingers toy with some hairs at the nape of my neck. “It will be nice to have everyone together. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
I kiss her on the forehead, and we rest for a few more minutes until we really can’t stay any longer. We perform some professional-level acrobatics to escape the bed without disturbing Freddie, and once I’m dressed, I wait for Daisy to get ready. I knock on the bathroom door once to check on her—she sounds sniffly, but when she comes out, she gives me the biggest hug. All I can do is be there for her today, no matter what she’s experiencing.
We drive to the trailhead in Daisy’s truck, and everyone’s already there. We park, and Daisy gets out and walks straight to her favorite one-year-old.
“My baby Bob!” she cries out, reaching for the child in Gwen’s arms. He lights up when he sees her.
“Sorry for making you third wheel to a tiny human with only eight teeth,” Gwen says to me with a hug.
“I don’t mind.”
Gwen gave birth to Bob Jr. precisely on his due date, and aside from his lack of mustache, he’s basically Bob in miniature form. Daisy’s obsessed with the kid.
It’s a mercifully cool morning, and our group starts down the trail with Richard and Oona leading the way.
“How’s the museum?” my mom asks.
“We’re ready for next week,” I reply. “Our best collection yet.”
In part, it’s thanks to my parents, which I never would have imagined. Although my dad needed some time to come around to the idea, he and my mom have been one of the biggest financial supporters for our latest installment ofDesert Daze.
Daisy traveled with me for most of the tour with Tate, but the only reason any of those places felt like home was because she was there. She enjoyed the adventure, but I could tell she longed to plant her feet back in Harlow. So, after we wrapped, I respectfully resigned. Daisy freaked out about my decision no less than a million times, but a dream job means nothing without my dream girl. So returning to Harlow made sense. I accepted an adjunct teacher position at the school, Regina’s arts program officially launched, and we turnedDesert Dazeinto a recurring event. When I’m not working locally, I’m traveling around the western US to help other organizations set up their own pop-up museums. It’s no tour with Tate, but it’s what I want, and it’s mine. The legacy I always wanted to leave finally feels real.
We reach the tree, now speckled with bright yellow blooms, and we spread out blankets in its shade. Richard passes around Tupperware with fruits and veggies while Oona hands out scraps of paper and pens so people can write their favorite memories of Daisy’s mom.
“I brought some extra camp cups, if anyone needs one,” Dawn says, making her way through the group and filling up everyone’s mugs with sparkling wine—and grape juice for Ava and Zinnia.
Daisy stands, cupping her drink in her hands. Despite the glisten in her eyes, a genuine smile stretches across her face. She stares at the circle of friends and family, taking it in for a moment, before she talks.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here. Today’s a hard day, but it’s special to get to share it with all of you. Max suggested we start this tradition last year, and I’m glad we did.” She looks at me, and our surroundings fall away—for a second, it’s just Daisy and me. She doesn’t need to say it, because I know.
I love you.
“This past year has been a lot of change for me, and you all know how well I handle that. Um…handing off The Mirage was something I could never have imagined doing. It’s been a process, but I’m confident the hotel’s in good hands.”
Daisy needed extra support to feel ready to sell The Mirage, but because of the success ofDesert Daze, she could be choosy with what the transition looked like. The place went to a member of her mom’s old hiking club—a person Oona and Richard recommended—and I think Daisy likes that it’s someone who knew her mom and also loves the land. Daze retains a share of ownership, so she can remain in the casita, and now that she’s not managing every little detail, she can focus on other things. Taking care of Freddie. Horseback riding whenever she wants. Her new job.
“It means so much to be surrounded by folks who loved my mom, especially today,” Daisy says, holding up her mug and staring right at me. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
The Desert Museum tree sways in the breeze as people share their stories of the inimitable Amy Johnson. I wish she could be here to see Daisy now. After some much-needed time off and eye-opening travel, Daisy started consulting with hotels around the globe to make their operations more eco-friendly. She does most of her work virtually, but she joins me on my travels sometimes to meet with US-based clients in person. Dawn has extensive contacts since she works in tourism, and she’s helped Daisy get her business going. Daisy guides properties with things like land maintenance and the best equipment to invest in that keeps water usage low. I’ve never seen her happier, using her skills and passions in this way.
Ava taps my shoulder, leans in close, and whispers, “Does Daze know?”
I give a subtle shake of my head, and my sister breaks into a toothy smile.
“Be cool,” I tell her.
“Trying.” She looks like every fiber of her being is vibrating. “Tomorrow at ten?”
