“Why would I be scared? Over eight hundred thousand tourists a year, just from the cruise ships alone, see Ketchikan. They even have cruise ships that stop.”
I didn’t bother mentioning the fact the cabin I rented was actually on an island. I’d have to take a boat there, which would be a half-hour trip, and there wouldn’t be any civilization for miles. Not to mention no electricity or cell service.
No, Tara didn’t need to know any of that, because she was already staring at me like I had lost my mind wanting to go to Alaska.
Hell, she was probably one of those people who thought it was nothing but tundra and that you had to wear head to toe thermal gear or you’d freeze to death.
“The places I’m staying at have tourists.” I shrugged. “Besides, I used to do a lot of hikes and go camping with my grandmother.”
Tara’s brows lifted as she tried—and failed—not to drag her gaze up and down my body.
I held in my snort of indignation and instead narrowed my eyes because I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“You’re a big girl. How didyoudo any hiking?”
I waited, silently hoping she’d say something along those lines because I’d make sure it was the last time she ever did.
The fact I wasn’t like any of the women here with their lithe bodies and spray tans didn’t bother me. I didn’t watch my calories or worry about what a man would think if he saw me naked and I had a little extra weight on my body.
Self-esteem issues hadn’t been an issue for me because my grandmother had drilled into me that everybodywas beautiful.Iwas beautiful, even if I didn’t fit into the mold society had created.
And no one would ever tell me any differently, not with words nor looks.
When Tara finally looked at me and saw my glare, her shoulders pulled back and she gave me a saccharine smile.
“I just couldn’t do it. Without my weekly manicures, my Netflix, and then of course, ordering out.” She lifted her nose in a very snubbed-up way. “I would just die.” She acted and sounded overly dramatic as she steered the conversation back to “safe” ground.
I was getting a little defensive about the entire trip, because the truth was a part of me thought I was crazy for going there alone.
But the bigger part of me said I needed this. Over the last month, since my grandmother had passed away, I felt like I was in this hamster wheel. I just kept going round and round with no end in sight.
My routine was exactly the same. I went home to an empty one-bedroom apartment, woke up, went to work, grabbed takeout, and sat alone in my living room staring at the TV that played reruns.
I felt like my life was draining away right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
At least before I could visit my grandmother. We’d have Sunday dinners together, or we’d take hikes in the woods close to her house. Even at the ripe old age of eighty-five, she was still so adventurous.
So yeah, I was afraid, but I was more excited because I wanted to reconnect once more with the wilderness, which was something my grandmother instilled in me to appreciate and love.
I also wanted away from everything and everyone that reminded me I was utterly alone now.
“Couldn’t you just go somewhere close?”
“I could. But this is where I want to go.”
I’d been camping plenty of times while growing up, but never anything as intense and off the beaten path as what I planned at the end of the month. Nevertheless, excitement filled me.
“I’ll be fine.”
With one more veiled look in my direction, Tara muttered something about having to get back to work and left me alone.
I glanced back down at my phone, once again looking at the town of Ketchikan where I’d be staying, checking out what shops were around, then finally opening up the map that showed me the cabin where I’d spend most of my time.
I found a smile curving my face.
For the first time since my grandmother had passed, I actually felt… happy.
Maybe this was exactly what I needed to dig myself out of that dark hole.