the long, fully clothed tables. “Is this where I’ll be setting up?”
The woman nods. “This is it.” She glances at her watch. “It’s probably too early now, but we’d like the food to be ready to go by the time the wedding party gets to the reception. They’ll walk out, take photos, share a glass of champagne in private, and then we’re planning for their arrival about thirty minutes after the ceremony.”
I clap my hands together. “Sounds pretty seamless. I’ll need to keep all the food refrigerated, but I can set everything else up now.”
“Wonderful.”
I get to work, setting down the stainless-steel chaffing dishes, filling the water pans, and attaching the biofuel that will later heat the dishes. I set out two end tables with cutlery, porcelain dishes, and napkins. Within an hour of getting there, I’ve done everything I possibly can prior to the start of the ceremony.
Guests have already started to arrive, and although I’m dressed in all black, I feel the need to step away until it’s time to load the dishes into their trays. So I set out into the woods, in the opposite direction than the guests who are arriving, and find a nearby trail that leads me toward the sound of rushing water.
I’m sure I could have heard that same sound, only fainter, back at the wedding spot, but I hadn’t even been paying attention. It’s amazing what happens when my mind is full of nonsense, yet when I step into the unknown, all my senses come alive.
Snoqualmie Falls is around here somewhere. I’ve visited them once before on a short hike with Zach when we first moved to Seattle. But even on that day, my mind was full of anger and frustration over my father like it had been for so many years.
When I was younger, fighting to survive despite the rage that always seemed to find me, I knew I was meant for more. I knew that above the shadows was something so much brighter, but back then, the darkness was too much to fight through to find the light. I was practically drowning in the darkness when Coach pulled me out with his stern words and threat to turn both Zach and me in for fighting.
The anger is infrequent now, coming only when thoughts or situations having to do with my father cloud the peace of mind that I’ve worked so hard to hang on to. I won’t turn out like him. I’ve set up controls, like my limits with drinking, to prevent myself from falling into the same disease that he has. But I worry about the triggers. I worry about the next thing that could set me off and bring me right back to my fourteen-year-old self, who was so damaged and lost he couldn’t see straight.
I also worry about my father, and even that can bring on a trigger worth fearing. His ASD is deemed unmanageable by his doctors until he seeks help for his addiction. Other than that, everyone tells me all I can do is wait. Wait for what? I’m not sure, and I’m too afraid of the answer to ask the question.
But today, I can hear the heavy waters plunging into the pool beneath the falls. Today, I can breathe in the fresh air and not feel like I’m close to drowning. Today, I can see the beauty in nature and bask in its magic. And if all I have is today, I want to make it worth it.
About a mile in, I can see the top of the waterfall through a gathering of trees, and as I close in on the view, that’s not all I see. There’s a group of women posing, smiling, and laughing for a photographer. An auburn-haired girl dressed all in white stands in the middle, flanked by a short-haired girl on her left and Monica on her right. Two other girls stand on either side of them. The bridesmaids are wearing seafoam-green silk dresses that bunch naturally at their breasts and fit snugly down their bodies, stopping at their shins.
I’m about to turn away when another woman catches my eye. She’s not part of the photo shoot, and she’s not wearing green like the other girls. She’s wearing a long-sleeved pink dress that ends midthigh and is decorated in long rectangles of shimmering gold fabric. It’s formfitting, with a thick band of gold fabric wrapping around her waistline and accentuating her sleek hourglass figure. And damn, her legs are