"Maybe? Brooke Shields, you are going to drag your workaholic ass up that mountain at dawn and watch the goddamn sunrise at his special spot."
I can't help laughing. "You make it sound so romantic."
"That's because it is! And while you're up there, maybe you'll find something else to rise besides the sun."
"Piper!"
"What? I'm just saying, mountain men know how to use their hands. All that rope work and... wood chopping."
I groan, but I'm smiling. "You're terrible."
"I'm right. And you know it." Her voice softens. "Seriously, Brooke. When's the last time you watched a sunrise that wasn't from a hospital window? When's the last time you did something just because it might bring you joy?"
I lift my head and look at the map again, really seeing it this time.
I can't remember.
"Go see the sunrise," she says gently. "Make sure he's there too. And then tell me everything."
I hang up, my eyes drifting back to the map with that little heart marking the best view.
The way he's marked the trail with such care. The personal notes that suggest he's walked this path hundreds of times. The fact that he wanted to share it with me.
I try to imagine him drawing it. Sitting at his kitchen table with a pencil, carefully sketching each turn, each landmark, his hulking shoulders shadowed over the paper.
I get up and put the cookies in the pantry, telling myself I'll save them for later. The gloves go in the drawer by the door. Practical placement. Nothing sentimental about it.
But the map...
The map goes on my refrigerator.
Right in the center, where I'll see it every morning. Like a shrine to the impossible idea that someone might actually want to share their favorite places with me.
Maybe I should text him? Thank him like a normal person would.
I pick up my phone and start typing:Thanks for the care package. Very thoughtful.
Delete.
The gear is perfect. Thank you.
Delete.
How did you know purple was my favorite color?
Delete delete delete.
You didn't have to do this, but I appreciate it.
God, that sounds so formal. So professional.
The map is beautiful. Will you be at the sunrise with me?
Too eager. Too much.
I set my phone down and lean against the counter, looking at the map again.
Tomorrow is Friday. The winter festival is this weekend. I'll see him there. Or at work tomorrow. I'll thank him in person like a normal human being who doesn't overthink every interaction.