She’s here, hand in my hand. Something settles in my chest, and I wonder if she’s the one we’ve been searching for since before I even knew who we were looking for.
A twig crunches under my feet. Just off the trail, something scurries in the brush.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You’ve seriously never gone hiking?” Brendan asks, breaking whatever spell she had me under.
She laughs. “No. The beach is about as outdoorsy as I’ve ever gotten.”
“We’ll, you’re in luck. If you want to be bored to death, my brother here knows every single thing there is to know about forests and wildlife.”
“Really?” She turns to face me. Even with her dark sunglasses, I can see the surprise on her face.
“Yep. I’m shocked he didn’t become a tree-hugging botanist or whatever.”
She laughs. “An architect is pretty far off from that.”
“Not really.” I’m impressed that she remembers my job. The little boy inside me puffs out his chest and prances around.
“How so? They seem completely different from each other. Studying and protecting nature versus building bridges and buildings.”
“There’s always going to be someone cutting down the forests. That’s progress. No amount of chaining yourself to a redwood will ever stop that. The best way to save them is to be the one creating the structures society thinks they need instead.”
“That makes absolutely no sense and perfect sense all at the same time.”
I shrug. It’s a weird balance. “I’d rather be the guy in charge of designing bridges over the landscape, knowing I can retain as much nature as possible.” And when a passerby sees all the trees and scenery, they realize how much they need it and the beauty that was always there. The more bridges I’ve executed, the more notoriety I’ve received. I’m my firm’s most sought after architect, private companies and large government contracts pay a pretty penny for my expertise. Obviously, I’m doing something right. But I’m not about to brag.
“What’s this?” Asra asks, bending down. She points toward a small cluster of tiny fronds with pale, curled tips like they belong in a Dr. Seuss book.
“Cinnamon ferns.”
“Like where cinnamon comes from?”
“No, it’s just a fern.” I point toward the large ferns all around them with their dark stems and pale foliage. “Same thing, just new growth.”
“Does it at least smell like cinnamon?”
As she leans forward, Brendan grabs both her shoulders. She jumps, shrieking.
“Careful, it might spray you with poison gas.”
Her wide eyes dart to mine.Her raised eyebrows peek out over her dark shades.
I shake my head and glare at my brother.
He only laughs louder. “Come on, baby girl, let’s see what other things I can scare you with.”
For the next thirty minutes, I answer all her questions, pointing out everything I can while Brendan finds ways to torment her. I’m not an expert on nature like my brother thinks, but I do know a thing or two. At least it’s enough to impress the girl sandwiched between us as she keeps pulling out her phone to take hundreds of pictures.For a girl who’s never been hiking, it’s clear she loves it.
That boy inside me is on cloud nine.Even if tonight doesn’t end like I hope, it’s still one of the best hiking trips I’ve ever taken. And, luckily, after the first ten minutes, we chose the higher trail up the mountain, leaving most of the other hikers behind. It’s just us three now.
“Snake,” Brendan states suddenly, pointing a few feet away.
Asra screams, jumping back and almost climbing me like a tree.
“Easy,” I whisper in her ear, steadying her with both my hands on her shoulders, “it’s just a stick.”