Page 26 of Into the Mountains (Blue Grove Mountain #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHARLOTTE

T he walk back to our campsite is quiet. It may just be me, but I can feel the tension rolling off in waves. Elias is near the front of the group while I’m bringing up the back. I lingered behind when we started walking back to camp, figuring it was best for us to distance ourselves.

I’m not sure how to untangle the mess I feel about our moment in the locker room. It’s like trying to pull apart a pile of necklaces, the chains are interlocked so much that the more I try to untangle them, the more it seems they get jumbled together.

We get back to camp mid-afternoon and it’s hotter than I expected for this time of year.

During the hike, I decided I needed some time to myself, so I dig into my pack and grab the book I brought.

The one I haven’t opened since Mom died.

The one Ethan begged me to read again with him and I promised him I would.

“I’m going to go read,” I announce, even though I know the two couples are caught up in each other that they don’t notice me slip away on the trail, eager to stow away in their tents for a while.

I snag a chair and fold it up. Elias looks in my direction like he wants to say something, but isn’t sure.

“Do you want some company?” He’s quiet and…nervous I think.

“Not this time.” I give him a sideways smile, my attempt at some kind of reassurance that it’s not his fault I need space.

It’s not his fault, I bottled up so much over the years that the cork has burst out now.

It’s time I shatter the bottle and feel everything I’ve been shoving down time and time again.

I just hope the glass doesn’t embed itself in anyone else in the process.

“Okay,” he says before he goes into his own tent. To rest, or stare through the top of it at the sky, I don’t know. But I can only hope that he understands my need to do this alone.

I walk a few minutes along a path until I veer off at the sound of a water current.

There’s a small break in the trees and enough room beside the river to set up my chair.

Taking off my shoes, I sit and let my feet soak in the cool water feeling instant relief from being on them most of the day and my body instantly cools off.

Laying my head back for a brief second, I listen to the sounds of the water around me and the birds chirping in the trees. It’s peaceful out here.

The Hobbit sits in my lap and my heart picks up at the idea of opening it again.

The last time I did was at the side of Mom’s bed.

She didn’t remember who I was at that point, but she enjoyed the story every time I read.

She’d remember some of it and I’d read where I left off.

It became really difficult for Dad to handle near the end, because her memory was fading so quickly.

There were a few times that she became lucid, but it never lasted for very long and when she disappeared again, the pain was even worse than the time before.

And then we’d just go back to hoping we get that one moment again, even though we knew the sharpness we would feel after it was whisked away.

After a few more moments of stalling, I finally open the book and start reading the words I’ve read a million times over.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

Over the next hour or so, I get lost in the words and descriptions of Tolkien.

I find myself laughing again at the dwarves when they show up one by one unexpectedly at Bilbo’s door when all he wants to do is eat his meal in peace.

I’m so engrossed in the story, I almost don’t hear the rustling of leaves coming from the path behind me.

I pause and listen for a moment. The rustling gets closer and I realize it’s a person walking.

I turn around half expecting to find an ax murderer, but see Elias walking toward me.

“Jesus.”

“Nope. Just me,” he says jokingly.

I roll my eyes and turn back to my book, happy to escape back into The Shire. “I know you wanted to be alone, but you’ve been out here for a while and Hudson made dinner, so I brought you some.”

He hands me a foil wrapped package. “I figured you’d be hungry. You didn’t eat lunch or anything.”

“Back to being observant?”

“Or a stalker. Whichever one you prefer.”

“Creeper.” I hold up the food for a brief moment. “But thanks.”

I see him looking across my lap, trying to figure out the book I’m reading. “ The Hobbit .”

“Ah.”

“You’ve read it?”

“I’m not much of a reader,” he says like he’s…

embarrassed? “I’ve tried to sit down and read, but I can never focus.

It’s like my brain isn’t meant to read the words on the page.

I’ve tried so many times, so I could talk to Ethan about the book and connect on that level because he loves it so much, but I can never get my brain to cooperate.

Which makes me feel like a complete failure. ”

He says the last part in a whisper and I don’t know if he meant to say it or if it slipped out, either way, I feel the need to reach out to him, so I do. I place my hand in his and he doesn’t shy away from my touch, but embraces it.

“You’re far from a failure, Elias.”

“It doesn’t feel like that sometimes.” He looks out onto the river like he’s thinking back on moments that he felt like he could have done better. “He’s going to be nine soon, you know?”

“I do.” Ethan told me the last time we played cards and invited me to his birthday party.

“He’s been going on and on about a Hobbit themed birthday party and I have no idea how to do that.

I don’t even know what decorations to buy or what things to have for that kind of thing.

I’m creative with architectural stuff, but I was never great at party planning.

I looked online for ideas and it all just feels wrong, it all looks too childish. ”

He’s rambling and fidgeting with his other hand, rubbing his neck and pushing it through his hair. It sticks up at the ends and suddenly I can see the stressed father behind the facade that he puts up.

“I’m sure whatever you do, he’ll love it. The Hobbit is something that instills magic in his little mind and he just wants that for his birthday too. And he’s going to love it even more coming from you.”

He doesn’t look convinced. In fact, he looks more nervous as he glances from me to my book and I can almost see the invisible lightbulb flickering until finally an idea forms in his head and it illuminates the area around us.

His eyes find mine and I already know the question he’s going to ask as well as my answer.

“Would you…”

“Yes.”

“Really?” he asks, surprised.

“Of course.”

“I just…I didn’t expect you to be willing to help me.”

“It’s the least I can do after almost killing you today.

” Besides, I truly do love Ethan and helping with his birthday party would be a nice break from our project together.

Maybe it would be good for us to collaborate on a different type of project and give us a break from the clinic plans.

One thing could lead to another and creative doors could open up.

If we can work together and plan a nine year old’s birthday party, surely we can get along well enough to get the clinic plans fleshed out.

“Alright, deal,” he says, patting my hand.

“Have you ever tried the audiobook?”

“What?”

“You know, audiobooks?” His brow furrows. “You really don’t know what audiobooks are?”

“No,” he admits, red creeping into his cheeks like he’s embarrassed.

“Basically, a narrator reads the book to you.”

“Like Siri?”

“No, it’s an actual person. They record the book and you can check them out through a library app or you can subscribe to a service and buy one book per month, whichever one works for you.

But you can listen to the book while you’re doing other things around the house.

Chores, errands, crafts, whatever you want.

I usually listen while I do dishes or if I have long drives.

Or I’ll listen to them while I crochet.”

He looks like he was just brought from the dark age and discovered some brand new technology he never thought could have existed. “I’m genuinely shocked I didn’t know about this.”

“Clearly, you’re way too sheltered,” I jest.

“So, what kind of audiobooks do you listen to? Can I see the app you use?” Oh, hell no.

This conversation isn’t supposed to turn on me and what books I listen to.

He does not need to see my listening library.

The titles wouldn’t give away the content, but on the off-chance he does look one up and listen to one…

the horror. Nope. As if my hand is a guard and my phone is the prisoner, it hovers over my pocket like it’s going to escape at any moment.

“Uhhh, different kinds.”

“Like what?”

“Just books, Elias.”

“What kind of books?” He raises one eyebrow and he’s actually really cute when he’s oblivious.

“Ones that wouldn’t interest you.”

“With the way you are guarding your phone right now, I’m definitely interested.

” He makes a grab for my phone, but I firmly plant one of my feet against his chest and shove.

I gasp as a splash comes from the shallow water and droplets attack my skin.

I shoved him a little too hard and now he’s sprawled into the water, drenched.

“You’d think for a big time jock, you would have been able to keep your balance better.”

Exaggerating his movements, he wipes the water from his eyes and pushes back his hair. It falls to the side and flops slightly over his eye. I imagine my fingers humming through it and wonder what it would feel like.

“Oh, you’re going to get yours, Charlie.”