Page 67 of Five Days in July
21
MATT
Ican’t take my eyes off her while she bustles around, getting everything ready. I can tell she’s nervous, but at the same time, she seems more relaxed than usual. It’s a contradiction I can’t quite put my finger on. I have to concentrate on anything other than her so I don’t get caught staring at her legs in the tight bike shorts she has on. She was smart to layer her shirts too. It’s still cool, even in the late morning, and the wind off the lake can be chilly when you work up a sweat.
“Do I need to bring any food along, you think?” She’s still on the other side of the counter.
“Nope, we’re good.” I smile. I wanted to surprise her, so I packed a rudimentary picnic in my backpack.
She pauses for a second before coming toward me. “Alright, I’m all set then.” Turning to Norm, she says, “You behave today, little guy. There should be plenty of food and water, and I left some windows open for you to sit in.”
She scratches him behind the ear and grabs her wallet out of her purse, zipping her phone inside and looping the water bottle’s handle over her wrist.
She races out to the truck ahead of me while I lock the door from inside. She gets in without assistance, leaving her long, mostly exposed legs at eye level. Part of me wonders if she did it on purpose, but she’s the type of person who is completely unaware of their own appeal.
She pulls the door closed and smiles through the window. Compared to a few days ago, this smile seems natural, not forced or used as a means of distraction. It fills me with pride that I’ve made her genuinely happy.
I climb in and start the engine, hoping she doesn’t notice the overfull backpack tucked behind my seat. I have my duffle bag with everything to get ready for tonight sitting next to it. Both together make it look like I’m going on vacation.
“So, what else have you been up to today besides picking flowers?” She reaches over, and I’m shocked when she takes my free hand and entwines her fingers with mine.
“I actually finished replacing the second sensor on your car.” A small part of me doesn’t want to tell her because I’ve enjoyed our drives together, but I’ve been worried about her feeling trapped without a vehicle. I wanted to get it fixed as soon as possible.
She looks surprised. “You didn’t have to go in on your day off and do that.”
“I want you to use it if you need it. Plus, it was nice and quiet, and I enjoyed it.” I don’t mention that I also fixed the timing chain, just in case that contributed to the problem.
She squeezes my hand and snuggles into the truck seat, half turning toward me. “Well, thank you.” She smiles.
“We can go pick it up later if you want.”
“I’m not worried about it.” She seems relaxed, more so than I thought she would be. We don’t talk much for the rest of the drive. Lenore mostly watches the scenery pass by. The fruit trees are loaded, and they’ll be ready to pick soon.
We reach the road that winds south into the county park and are surrounded by tall lodgepole pines. In between their willowy trunks, you can see glimpses of the steel-colored lake flashing.
I swing around the bend for the parking area, and I’m relieved to see only two other cars there. Lenore’s bouncing with excitement, and as soon as I set the truck in park, she’s unbuckled and springing from the car.
She stops when her feet hit the ground and stares over the lake. There’s a clear view down the hill to one of the more popular cliffs for jumping. I’ve done it a few times, but it’s still too early in the morning to jump into water that cold.
“Can I put my stuff in your bag?” She turns to me, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling.
“Sure thing.” While she’s tucking her wallet in the front pocket, I grab her water bottle and clip it on with a carabiner. She’s pulled out her phone and shoved it deep in her shorts pocket so she can take pictures while we walk.
“What’s all in there?” She eyes the big bag with trepidation.
“You’ll see.” She looks miffed that I won’t tell her, and she pouts playfully. “Ready to head out?”
“Yes, please.”
I snag her hand again, and we walk down the hill toward the well-worn area at the trailhead. Before it starts weaving along the cliffs, there’s a big sign telling visitors about how the peninsula was formed and the area’s geological history. Nore stops and scans it, studying the pictures and charts.
I remember reading it for the first time with one of my elementary school classes when we came for a field trip. Our class was small, only about twenty students, and we spent the day running around the park and trails. At the time, our teachers hadn’t let us go cliff diving, but as long as we stayed in earshot and checked in with them, we could roam wherever we wanted. Looking back, it was probably way too much of a liability risk for the school to take, but it made me love this park from a very young age.
When Lenore finishes reading, I snag her hand and pull her onto the trail. It’s wider here, with more gaps in the trees so it's easier to look up the shoreline facing east. It’s easy to pretend that Lake Michigan is an ocean and that you’ve escaped for an adventure. Lenore nods at a family we pass, but we don’t stop to make any conversation.
We make quick progress on the trail, and within a few minutes, we catch up to an older couple out for a leisurely hike.
“Good morning!” they call out as we come even with them.