Page 29 of New River Gorge(ous)
My face feels naked. I probably shouldn’t have shaved this morning, but I stood in my outdated pink bathroom, stared at my reflection, and decided that if I was really going to try dating again, I needed to make some changes. The easiest one I could think of at the moment was losing the beard. I’ve hidden behind it for years. I grew it after Addie left, and it’s been something that shielded me from everything and everyone. But, as I discovered through my morning prayer, if I’m going to do this, if I’m going to put myself out there and feelfeelingsfor someone, I might as well do it all the way.
Sure, shaving was metaphorical, but it was also different, and it felt right.
Brooke is quiet, but there’s a nervousness in her posture. Her hands are tucked under her arms in a way that makes me think she might be cold. For the first timeever, I wish I had a newer truck, the kind with heated seats that I could offer to turn on for her.
“You cold?” I ask, and my voice is scratchy.
Brooke angles her face to look at me. “A little. I’ll be ok when we get moving though.”
I’m silent for a minute.
“Wasn’t this area a big part of the Civil War?” she asks.
Oh, thank goodness.A topic I can actually talk about.
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Yes,” I say, then point to a historical marker along the side of the road. “There’s tons of history here. It’s a big part of the area. Is that something you … like?”
She directs her gaze out her window at the passing landscape, but she responds loud enough that I hear her over the roar of the truck. “Yes. It’s my favorite genre to read—historical fiction. We studied the Civil War in seventh grade and again in high school. Never did a lot of World War II in school, though, so I’ve learned a lot about that on my own since college.”
“Maybe you’d have some book recommendations for me, then.” On the outside, I’m cool, collected, and calm, but on the inside,who is this and where has Beck gone?I do like to read, but I rarely have time, and I’ve never picked up a World War II book—ever.
“You like to read?” Brooke asks, and there’s a little bit of surprise in her voice.
“Yeah. I don’t get a lot of time to do it, but I enjoy it when I can.”
She nods, and I catch the movement from my periphery.
“Here’s the bridge,” I say as I turn onto the main road and join the traffic zipping across the New River below. I stay in the outside lane so she can see some of the scenery as we cross, but it takes only about thirty seconds, so she won’t see much.
“Wow,” she breathes. “I wish I could see more for longer. It must have been amazing to be building this.”
“Definitely,” I say, and then inspiration strikes me. I tuck it away in the back of my mind, but I already know what to do for another date, if she’ll allow me to take her on one.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Beck. She might not choose you.
We’re silent for a while as I drive through the hairpin turns, but it’s not uncomfortable. Brooke is simply looking at everything, and I want to know what she thinks. I try to see this area as a newcomer, as she does. Houses cling to the sides of the mountains, some with well-kept yards, others without. Poverty is apparent, but so is wealth. There’s not much rhyme or reason to it, but it’s how it is in Appalachia.
“Michigan must be different from here,” I comment, breaking the silence.
“Definitely,” Brooke responds, but doesn’t offer anything else. I want to know about where she grew up. I want to know how she sees the world, how she sees this place, my home, but voicing those questions feels too heavy and too risky.
I turn the truck into the trailhead parking lot.
“We’re here,” I announce with a smile, even though my heart is hammering faster than a jackhammer. I haven’t been on a date in so long, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what Brooke expects. I’m second-guessing anything and everything.
I unbuckle and hop out of the truck, grabbing a backpack from the bed on my way to Brooke’s door. I shouldn’t be surprised when she’s already out of the truck by the time I get to her door.
I frown as she pulls her pink backpack over her shoulders. It’s very small and very feminine.
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask.
“I think so. This isn’t an all-day hike, right?”
I shake my head. I walk to the trailhead, but before I do, I slip a ginger candy in my mouth.
Brooke pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of the sign before slipping it back into her pocket.
