Page 33 of Delayed Intention

The Rescue

“Let me see if I understand… You have to go back?” Abbie is doing little to keep her teasing tone out of her voice. I know she can’t see me, but I roll my eyes anyway.

“Yes Abbs, I told you the venue had a fire and now we’re checking out the only two options left in town. A creepy, possibly haunted hotel, or a barn that Felicia may find too rustic. My mother would hate the barn.”

“Your mother’s gonna complain whatever ya’ll choose—so how about you pick the one you don’t mind spending time at?

” Abbie tends to be direct when it comes to Mom, which used to make me nervous, but lately, I’ve come to appreciate it.

In the past, my tendency was to be muddled between my self-doubt and Ellen’s chronic accusations that I didn’t care about her feelings.

These days, I’m learning to be more objective about the difference between my mother’s opinions and reality.

“That’s not a bad idea Abbie. Listen, I’ve gotta go in about five minutes; I’m stopping for coffee before I drive into the mountains.”

“You doin’ okay?” She asks kindly.

“I think so.”

“How soon before you see Josh?”

“About an hour if I can bring myself to drive in. Maybe sooner if I need to be rescued.” I laugh, but it comes out uneasy, and I know it.

We say our goodbyes after I catch up on her news, which consists of the latest gossip around the clinic and a hot date she has later in the week.

After stopping for coffee in Boulder, I gather myself to drive up to Estes Park.

I had forgotten how long this drive from Lincoln felt.

I had decided earlier to break it up by stopping in North Platte.

I grabbed lunch there before going to one of my favorite childhood haunts, the Buffalo Bill Ranch.

It had seemed so large when I was little, but now, it’s more right-sized.

As I follow US-36 out of Boulder, I’m waiting at a light and text Josh where I am.

Today, I’ve decided to try and drive into the mountains myself.

Josh is on standby in case I have to pull over and give up.

I’m hoping the fact that I’m in my car will give me a sense of power—enough to make it through—but we will see.

I have been super nervous about seeing Josh again.

I’m no longer angry with him, but I’ve been avoiding him for an entirely different reason.

Something strange has been happening since I read his last letter.

It was the part where he wrote, ‘I felt differently toward you than just a friend.’ And he’d mentioned that he sees me as attractive.

I don’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I can’t stop thinking about him as more than a friend now.

Not only is he in my head, he’s been in my dreams. In my subconscious, I imagine his arms around me, his lips on mine.

I am hoping when he’s in front of me, I’ll just snap back to reality and move on.

Maybe I should go on a date with someone else—except that I hate that idea.

I groan and realize my grip on the steering wheel is near lethal.

I try to relax before I induce a tension headache.

I make it as far as Lyons before I have to surrender.

Between my anxiety about the drive and my nerves about seeing Josh, I am ill-equipped to complete the trip through the mountain pass today.

I pull over at a shopping center with a market that appears to have a coffee shop in it and text Josh my location.

He sends a message back to give him about thirty minutes to arrive.

Thankfully, Josh was able to hire a service to meet me so he could drive my car into Estes, sparing me from leaving my Honda in this random town.

As I wait, I admire a giant snow pile that has been produced by plows in the corner of a parking lot.

The mounds of snow look like a mini mountain range.

The real mountain range looms behind it.

A town car pulls up to my position just as I finish the latte I purchased inside and Josh steps out and waves at me.

He looks better than I remember, and I avert my eyes.

Since his last letter to me, I have not written back.

I kept thinking about it and felt paralyzed.

I texted him that I received the letter, and appreciated his sentiment.

I just feel so emotionally exhausted from putting myself out there that I can’t bring myself to do it again.

I can feel my fears preparing to raise the defenses around my heart.

Talking to Monica this week, I’ve come to understand that many of my worries have stemmed from a desire to manage outcomes.

But what can any of us control when it comes to interacting with other people and all the nuances involved?

My biggest concern is that the next disappointment could boomerang me back into the place I was in before the high holidays.

If I regressed enough, my mental health could destabilize, trapping me in old patterns.

I can’t bring myself to risk retreating to that place of helplessness again.

I wasn’t ready to share all that with Josh before today, but now, seeing him in person, I wonder how I can keep it all inside while in his presence again.

To take some of the pressure off of the task before us, Josh has put a deposit on both venues, so we have a little time to sort out where my brother will be getting married.

“Hello,” he says, smoothly sliding into the driver’s seat of my car.

I look up at him.

“Hi.” I can feel my cheeks are flushed, and I hope he assumes it’s the cold.

“Shall we?”

“Just to warn you, I do not handle this last bit of the journey very well. I can’t help but expect the mountains to avalanche on me.”

“I understand,” he adds, softening his voice, “I remember.” He looks at me with concern but not pity and I allow myself a twinge of gratitude. “What can I do, or avoid doing, that may help?”

“I am going to close my eyes and pray and try to meditate. Sometimes I just fall asleep—as a defense mechanism. So nothing for you to do.”

“Okay. Keep quiet. Got it.”

I glance at him as he adjusts my seat and mirrors to his height.

He’s wearing a green scarf and a black beanie with a black down coat, all of which makes his eye color pop.

I can see in his profile he is smiling. Despite the climate-appropriate outerwear, he still looks as fit as ever.

I’m completely attracted to this man, I realize with a sense of dread.

Not just in my subconscious, but right here and now.

I don’t know why this didn’t happen the last time I was here.

I saw how good-looking he was, of course, but I thought of it in a detached way that did not affect me personally.

Right now, however, I’m physically responding to his hotness. No detachment at all.

“Oh God,” I mutter, and he can go ahead and assume it is my fear of avalanches, which is not entirely wrong.

I can feel his gaze on me, though my eyes are closed. I am in so much trouble.

“Lily, it’s going to be fine. I’ll keep you safe.”

Unlikely .

Honestly, I don’t know what terrifies me more—impending injury from falling rocks or my attraction to Josh and the risk to my emotional well-being.

I open my eyes and pop one of my hydroxyzine tablets before I have a full-fledged panic attack.

I just need to get through these mountains.

I will figure out the emotional danger on the other side.

I settle into careful breathing and put my earbuds in to listen to a meditation app.

About five minutes in, I must have fallen asleep.

“Lily.” I feel a warm hand on my left shoulder.

I open my eyes. I can tell right away that I have been mouth-breathing by the dried drool on the right side of my cheek. So attractive … I probably snored. That would track. I swipe at the dried drool with the back of my hand and look around. We appear to have arrived at the office of my motel.

Josh has a half-smile on his face, and I have an insane urge to kiss him. I consider running into the mountains on foot and taking my chances there. I realize he is talking, and I am missing it. I take my earbuds out, which are playing the sound of running water in my ears.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” I try for an irritated face so he has no chance of guessing what I was thinking. “My earbuds were in.”

“This is where you are staying, right?”

I look around, “Yes.” I clear my throat. It is bone dry. I was absolutely snoring. “I told you this is where I was staying.” Again, I work to keep my voice flat and feign irritation in a desperate attempt to stop further conversation and flee the car.

“Right.” He cocks his head to the side. Why does that make him cuter?

More to the point, why do I care? “I’ll leave you to it.

You’re welcome to come by for dinner. If you forgot, I live just over there,” he points to his house, which is right across the river.

“You know, the one with the red door. I’m going to walk home. ”

At some point during the drive, he took off his beanie, and somehow his hat head is painfully adorable, and I clasp my hands together to keep from reaching over to run my hands through his hair.

“Otherwise, I’ll pick you up in the morning and we can go check out the two venues. Okay?” Thank God he pulls his hat back on.

“Great, see you in the morning.” I’m too tired to maintain a resting bitch face and give up. I just look at my phone instead, open my email and pretend to look at it.

"Okay Lily, see you then. I’ll bring you a coffee.” I glance and see him grinning at me. Time to get out of this car.