Page 54 of Every Beautiful Mile

I know where I want to go.

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“Maine?” Finn yells over the wind as we barrel down the highway. “Was that even on Dad’s list?”

“It was not. But you know, I’ve always wanted to go there and have never made it. And if we look at the list, how many of those places do we actually want to see?” I ask him as I point us east.

As if I even need to remind him of the dinosaur bones we tried to find just hours ago.

It took an hour and a half to get the tire changed and figure out where the hell we were, but we’re finally back on the road.

Maine bound.

“I was just thinking, we spent the first half of this trip doing what your dad wanted, which was great. But I don’t care if we see something called the Corn Palace or the World’s Biggest Truck Stop or Carhenge, do you?”

Windy silence.

“We can get to Maine in three days and spend the rest of the summer on the coast and eating lobster. Doesn’t that sound…” I search for a convincing word. “Relaxing?”

“Sure, Mom.”

He leans his head on the seat and looks out the window as the wind blows his hair around.

If I’d been traveling to hold on to Travis, this was my opportunity to let him go. To find a way to move forward, even if it’s just a step.

My eyes look toward the horizon.

I smile. We’re going to Maine.

It’s only after the decision is made and we are somewhere in Wyoming when Ethan’s next email comes through.

Penelope,

The coast is great, but the mountains are better. If you get close enough, they pull you in and never let you go.

I’m nervous about your secret-keeping skills but seeing as you’re at the opposite end of the country from me and you’ve already made it clear you have no intention of finding yourself here, I’ll tell you an easy one: I sleep naked.

What?! I drop the phone like it’s on fire with an audible gasp before working up the nerve to finish reading it.

If our paths ever cross and I bring it up, you’ll have to keep a straight face, or I’ll consider it a secret spilled. Then you’ll owe me one.

Maybe it’s been trouble to you, but it hasn’t to me.

Ethan

I only read it once—because what the hell am I even supposed to do with that?

Twenty-two

It takes us three grueling days on the highway before we make it to Maine.

The relentless mountains of the west make way to the plains of the Midwest before rolling into the hills of the east. This country is nothing if not diverse in its landscapes.

I tell myself we are staying in the mountain town of Bethel because it will make for a short drive to the coastal town of Bar Harbor the next day.

I say it’s serendipity we’ve ended up in the town where Ethan Mills lives and owns a restaurant.

I say all this because I am a pathological liar.

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