rugged scent—enveloped her. “Thanks.” Angela shoved her arms into Simon’s jacket, which was nearly double her size, and rolled the sleeves so her hands weren’t covered.
Simon led the way down to the lakeside path, and they started walking. “Up ahead is a tree so famous that it has its own hashtag.”
“Really?” There were trees all around them, covering the path with their shade. The water to their right became more difficult to see thanks to the dense foliage. “Which tree?”
“You’ll know it when you see it.”
They’d only walked a minute or two when Simon stepped through a break in the vegetation and headed toward the water once more.
He was right. She did know the tree when she saw it. And not just because of the group of people crowding the beach, vying for the best place for a photo op or selfie.
With only six or seven main branches—most of them thin—the willow tree appeared to be nothing special in and of itself. But its position in the water, growing ten or fifteen feet from shore, and the fact that it listed dramatically to the right made it extraordinary.
“Inspiring, yeah? They say it started off as a fence post eighty or so years ago and was so determined to live, it grew into that. It’s called ‘That Wanaka Tree.’”
Angela couldn’t tear her eyes away. Something about what he’d said resonated deep inside her. The vibration grew and grew, so much her hands began to shake.
She needed to move.
Turning to face Simon again, she asked the first thing that popped into her head. “So, is your office far from here?”
If Simon was surprised by the sudden question, he didn’t show it. “I’m actually a freelance writer, so I telecommute and work for several newspapers, magazines, and websites. It allows me a lot of flexibility, especially when Benjamin and Ella don’t have school.”
“That’s wonderful that you can be there for them like that. Unfortunately I have to work a lot, so my kids spend a lot of time at my mother-in-law’s.”
They left the clamor of photographers behind and moved back onto the dirt path adjacent to the lake.
“What do you do?”
“Before Wes died, I stayed home with the kids. Now I work as a receptionist in a realty office.” Well, before she’d quit to come here. She still had no idea what she’d do when she returned. Unsettling thought.
“Do you like it?”
“Not really, but it’s a paycheck.”
“If you could do anything, what would it be?”
“I used to want to be a doctor.”
“What happened? Decide it wasn’t for you?”
How honest should she be with this guy she barely knew? But he’d opened up, and so could she. They were just two new friends getting to know each other, right? “My plans were interrupted. I got pregnant my sophomore year of college and then married Wes.”
Even now, sixteen years later, Angela felt that old familiar sense of shame rise up in her. What would he think of her? She recalled how it had felt to tell her aunt and dad about Kylee. Heard her father’s gruff reply saying not to contact him again.
Remembered the words her aunt had spoken: “I’ll take you to get an abortion right away.”
The fact she’d considered it.
And the warning her aunt had relayed to her: “If you have this baby, all of your dreams will be just that—dreams. Becoming a mother right now will ruin any chance you have of achieving what you want in life.”
Simon burrowed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It’s funny the curveballs life throws our way sometimes. As a boy, I dreamed of being a pro snowboarder, but I injured myself on holiday my last year of secondary school, and my chances of that disappeared. So I decided to attend university and met my wife in my first class.”
“I’m sorry about your injury. That must have been difficult to accept.”
He shrugged. “That’s the awesome thing about life. We think we want one thing, and then something happens to show us the biggest blessing was maybe that we didn’t get it.”
20
Not even in her competitive running days of high school had so much ridden on one race.
Angela blew into her hands and shook them out, bouncing from foot to foot. It had been nearly ten years since she’d participated in a race of any sort—and the last merely a 5K Fun Run—but the whoosh of blood pounding in her ears and the excitement buzzing around her remained familiar.
A crowd of more than three hundred