Page 28 of New River Gorge(ous)
“You’ll be alright while I’m gone?” I ask Meemaw while I set the vase of flowers and a glass of water by her.
“Yes, stop worrying about me.” “But you’ll call if you need anything, right?”
“Brookie, I amnotabout to ruin your date. I need my granddaughter to get married because so far, none of my grandchildren have. I’m getting up there in years and only have so many left where I can do all those new-fangled dances like the Macarena.”
Visions of Meemaw doing the Macarena fly through my mind, and it’s all I can do to not snort in laughter. A glance at Beck shows his hand curled into a fist and covering his mouth. He’s also struggling not to laugh.
“I’m glad you’re doing better, Miss June,” Beck says as he stands up from the couch. “I’ll have her back by two this afternoon.”
“As long as there’s a marriage at the end of this, any time you bring her home is fine.”
Beck’s cheeks flush, and I intervene. “I’ll be back by two, Meemaw, and call if you need anything.”
Beck clears his throat. “You can call Ben if you need something right away. He’s not working this morning ... if for some reason we don’t have service on the trail.”
“Go on now, you two, enough hen pecking at me.”
I shrug as Beck looks at me, his eyes snagging on my long braid with the pink streaks before he looks down at my feet. I’m not wearing any shoes because I’m inside.
“You need some good shoes,” Beck says as we walk to the door with an awkward amount of space between us.
“I have some hiking boots on the porch.”
“Good.”
I open the door and step onto the porch as Meemaw calls out, “You two need to figure out how to talk to each other. It’s like dry cornbread without butterorhoney listening to you.”
My entire face flushes at Meemaw’s comment as I shut the door on my meddlesome grandmother’s commentary. I shove my feet into the hiking boots I left by the door and grab the bag I left next to them. It’s an over-the-shoulder single-strap backpack with my ID, phone, debit card, and a snack, and of course it’s pink.
“You never said where we’re going.” I look up from my crouched position as I tie the bright pink laces of my hiking boots.
Beck’s brow furrows. “Is everything you own pink?”
I blink at him. That was not the response I expected. “No, not everything, but it is my favorite color, so if I have a choice, I choose pink.”
He nods once. “I thought I’d take you to Long Point. It’s touristy, but it’s the best view of the bridge.”
“Oh, do we get to drive across the bridge to get there?”
“Yeah,” Beck responds before rubbing his hand on his bare chin. It’s like he can’t believe the beard is gone either. “You won’t see much from the bridge while we’re driving, but if you’re here for Bridge Day…”
“Bridge Day?”
“It’s an annual day every year in October. The Bridge closes to traffic, and people BASE jump and do all sorts of really dangerous stunts that I can’t condone as an E.R. doctor, but it’s also a big festival and loads of fun. I haven’t been in years, but if you’re still here, I could show you around.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him say so many words at one time, and the undercurrent of nervousness in his voice makes butterflies take flight in my stomach.
“Sounds fun.” I smile at him and am rewarded when his smile lights his eyes. It’s a different look, seeing him without the beard, but I really like it.
We reach his truck, and he opens the door for me. I inhale his woodsy, soapy scent, and also catch a whiff of something I can’t identify. It’s familiar, but foreign.
I buckle in as Beck crosses in front of the truck and taps the hood while he passes by.
I watch the muscles in his forearms flex as he clicks the buckle into place, starts the truck, and pulls away from the drive.
15
Dr. Beck
