Page 36 of Red Mountain Burning
Carmen thanked Margot and paused in thought. “I just hope it’s not too late. I’ve done a lot of damage over the years.”
“It’s never too late,” Margot said. “And we’re never too old.”
Silence filled the car as the women breathed in the idea of second and third chances.
“I hope you’re right,” Carmen finally said.
Thinking of her second life, the one that had started the moment she and Jasper had driven west from Vermont, Margot put her hand on Carmen’s slender arm. “I know I am.”
* * *
A scratchy voicefrom overhead kept Emilia from nodding off on Jasper’s shoulder. “Ladies and gentlemen, please stow your carry-ons and bring your seats and tray tables to an upright position. We’ll be landing in just a few minutes.”
Emilia lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. Seeing his face—the rounded profile, the gentle curves—drew a smile. So many things about him continued to stop her in her tracks. The way he stared off into space as if pondering a mathematical mystery, like now, with his eyes trained toward the cockpit. The care he put into his attire—more for him than to impress anyone else. The way his shaggy hair seemed to always be the perfect length. And his kind, gentle gestures and facial expressions, always authentic and trusting.
She’d fallen in love with a man cut from the same cloth as her father, a musician obsessed with his craft. As much as the idea that she might always play second fiddle terrified her, she couldn’t imagine it any other way. What was more attractive than someone who lived and breathed his art? And hearing him play, even if he played a tune over the phone, crept into the marrow of her soul.
“You’re missing it,” he said, pointing out the window.
Emilia leaned over him, pressing her hand down on his leg, and looked over the scabland cutting across eastern Washington. The topography was bursting with the vitality of late spring. The giant Columbia River came into view with its cold, blue water serving as the main artery of life east of the Cascades.
Emilia pulled away from the window. “I don’t know why exactly, but I’ve missed this place. Haven’t you?”
“I’m excited to get back, that’s for sure. It’ll be a great summer.”
She grabbed his hand. “What if we didn’t go back? I mean, I know you have to. I know school is so important. But sometimes I feel like everything I want is down there. Other than you, I mean.”
He looked down toward the carpet in the aisle. “It’s a really cool place, but…”
“But what?”
“Probably not the best for my career. I could play music with your dad, but if I want to find my own touring band, or establish myself as a studio musician, then I need to be where the action is.”
Emilia frowned. “I know.” A flash of the future zipped through her mind. She and Jasper married with children; Jasper always on tour; Emilia dragging the kids from hotel to hotel chasing him.
He drew a circle on her thigh. “What would you do out here if you stayed?”
Emilia bit her lip. “Maybe keep working for Lacoda. Or…I don’t know. Your mom’s kind of my hero. I’d love to learn how to garden and cook like her. Maybe I could do something similar.”
“You know she’d love to teach you.”
Emilia wished Jasper could be the pianist in the house band at Épiphanie, and she could be the gardener. He would never have to go on tour. He’d never have to chase his dreams. Alas, she knew as well as anyone that his talent belonged in arenas, not hotel lobbies in the middle of nowhere.
“I don’t want to ever say goodbye to you again,” she said.
Jasper moved in and put his cheek to Emilia’s; his breath tickled her neck. Then in a whisper, he said, “I love you.”
Almost like it had been waiting discreetly on the ledge, a tear escaped her eye, rappelling down her cheek like a rock climber easing down Mount Rainier.
* * *
The only thingmore awkward than her mom being drunk and high was her mom sober. As Emilia wrapped her arms around Carmen, she could sense her mother’s nerves. “I missed you, Mom.” She wore a new perfume, maybe violets.
Carmen burst into a sob, and Emilia hugged her tighter, thinking of her own tear back on the plane.How awful it is to be afraid of what’s to come,Emilia thought.
Emilia wiped her mom’s cheek. “You never cry. You’re not getting soft, are you?”
“I guess so.” Carmen seemed to be hyperaware of her surroundings, wondering who might be watching her.
