been the safe trail that day, the one with no memories, so they could create their own. Being on Carson Trail felt like rewriting history a little bit. How it ended was still to be determined.
Back in high school, the paths were overgrown, the paint on the trees marking the trail faded. Now, the brush had been cleaned up and swept back, the dirt leveled. The splashes of paint leading the way was fresh and bright on the tree trunks. Even if it hadn’t been, she still knew where to go.
There was still that old fallen log off the side as she rounded the first bend. It was more decayed now, but the gnarled roots still stretched out, grasping at nothing.
Even the smell was the same, dirt and moisture and everything that made River’s Edge her and Cal’s sanctuary.
She ran her fingers over the bushes lining the trails. She jogged over a small bridge that was raised over a mostly dried-out creek bed.
When she reached the area of the trail where she had to go off path to reach their spot, there was a clump of wildflowers tied to the tree. She pulled them out with shaky fingers, burying her nose in the petals.
And then, with careful steps, she went off path and wove her way among the trees and rocks by memory in the direction that would lead her to Cal. The sound of rushing water drew closer, and with one more hop over a fallen log, she pushed aside a branch.
Cal sat on a blanket with his back to her, his wrists propped on his bent knees.
Her mind blipped back ten years. To when Cal had shorter hair. To when his shoulders weren’t quite as broad, his skin not as weathered. She took another step forward, a fallen branch cracking under her sneaker, and Cal looked over his shoulder. He stood slowly, hands in his pockets, as she approached.
It was then she saw the difference in his eyes, in his expression. Since she’d been back to town, Cal had done nothing but brace himself, constantly preparing for what would knock him down next.
But this Cal, he faced her head on, his expression open and no longer guarded.
She stopped five feet away from him and waited.
“Thanks for coming,” he said.
“You sent the kid. You knew what you were doing to get me here.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, and then he looked away, his tongue slipping out to wet his lip. “So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
She pursed her lips to keep from talking.
“I thought that eighteen-year-old kid who wanted the wife and family and you was an idiot. I thought he was full of dreams that in reality, I couldn’t fulfill. I spent ten years telling myself I wanted nothing to do with him and everything he wanted.” He shook his head and looked down at his boots. “And now, I’m finally starting to realize he was the one who had it right all along.”
Her breath stuttered. The sound of the river now mixed with the pounding of her heart in her ears.
He lifted his head. “I know I messed up, Jenna. You were patient with me while I figured this out, and then I messed up, kinda like I knew I would. When we talked the day Asher got home from the hospital . . . well, I thought he was going back to his mom. She left her dumb-ass husband, and all I could do was feel sorry for myself. I wanted it all gone, everything that reminded me of how great this summer has been.” He took a step forward. “And then Asher asked to stay. He said I gave him a family.” Cal thumped his fist on his chest, and a bright smile came over his face. God, he was beautiful like this, pouring his heart out to her in a way he never did, in a way the eighteen-year-old Cal hadn’t known how. “I was so focused on whether I was doing everything right and that one setback threw me. But when I looked in the mirror and realized that if I kept going the way I’d been before you and Asher . . . well, I was turning into my father.” Another step forward, and Jenna held her ground. “I’ll always be a stubborn bastard, Sunshine. But I want to be that with you. And I’m standing here now, telling you that I’m done trying. No more trying.