Page 79 of Unravel Me

“I like your dreams. They sound perfect, and I know you’ll reach them. In the meantime, we can give Connor his own room at my place.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Why not? I’ve got four. And I plan to keep you two as much as I can, so it makes sense for him to have something a little more permanent than a playpen we stick in an open room, yeah?”

She blushes, nibbling her lip. “He really loved those glow-in-the-dark stars you hung up for him.” She peers up at me. “That would be really wonderful, Adam. Are you sure?”

“I’m very sure.” I roll my eyes and tip my head at the dogs ahead of us. “Now go break those two up.”

“Bear!” Rosie dashes over to the dogs, trying to get mine to dismount hers. “You’re neutered! You can’t have Bear and Pig babies, as cute as they’d be!” She stares down at them, fists propped on her hips. “What are we gonna do with you two?”

I laugh quietly as Rosie has to wind back around and separate them a second time, only moments after she turns her back on them.

“We were gonna take you two for pup cups, but now I just don’t know.” She shrugs, as if she isn’t going to climb in my front seat, give me those puppy eyes, and say, “Weren’t they so good today? They deserve a pup cup, don’t you think?” just like she does every single time. And just like I do every single time, I’ll wind up with whipped cream all over my hands while the dogs make a mess of the pup cups I hold for them.

Connor stirs, turning to tuck his face into my neck, laying his tiny hand over my heart. I kiss his waves, tightening my hold on him, relishing the fullness I feel in this moment, right here in this forest. I look around at the dirt, all the trees, the sea of green that makes this place smell so fresh, and I can’t believe here is where I found exactly what I was looking for.

A tree to my right catches my eye. It’s an old, towering pine, just like the rest of them, but on its thick trunk, the bark is marked with faded carvings.

“Look,” I call to Rosie, touching the bark, the old, rough heart carved into it, the three letters in the middle.D, M, R. Beneath it is a series of numbers that make a date from ages ago. “It’s been here for thirteen years.”

I hear the crunch of the earth beneath her shoes, the way they stop abruptly, the sharp intake of breath. I glance at Rosie, finding her hand at her mouth, eyes filled with tears, and I squeeze her arm.

“Hey. You okay?”

Her eyes don’t leave the heart on the tree. “You found it. I-I…I’ve been looking. Every single hike, for seven years. I’ve never been able to…I couldn’t remember…” Her chest rises sharply with a staggered inhale, and those tears spill down her cheeks before she throws her arms around me. “You found it.”

I look back at the heart, and something clicks.

D, M, R. Dad, Mom, Rosie.

“You’ve been here before. With your parents.”

A broken sob shakes her to her core, and she buries her face against my shoulder as I run my palm over her back.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Rosie swipes the tears from her cheeks and nods. Taking her hand, I urge her down to the base of the tree, pulling a sleeping Connor into my lap. Rosie rests her head against my shoulder before she tells me her story.

“My parents and I loved the outdoors. We were always hiking, camping, swimming, exploring. Anything you could do outside, we did it. We spent every summer traveling, and when I was eleven, we came here. We drove across Canada, spent two weeks in Alberta, took our time driving through to British Columbia. And we finished here. Vancouver was my favorite, so we extended our stay a week, and we hiked this trail every single morning.” Rosie looks up at the carving, a smile on her lips. “On our last day, my dad carved this. He promised we’d come back again, that we’d find it.” She looks back at me. “You know Capilano Bridge? The suspension bridge through the mountains? It’s covered in lights all winter long.”

I nod. “I’ve been a few times. It’s beautiful.”

Rosie smiles wistfully. “I bet. I’ve only seen pictures, but it looks incredible. The snow-covered trees, all those twinkly lights…it looks like magic. I wanted to go so badly, but of course the lights weren’t on in the summer. My parents said we could come back in November for my birthday to see all the lights.” Her chin quivers as new tears build, sliding silently down her face. “My parents passed away in September. We never got to go.”

Cupping her cheek, I swipe at the tears that come rolling down. “I’m so sorry, Rosie.”

“It’s why I’m here. Why I chose Vancouver, even though there’s an incredible veterinarian school forty-five minutes from my hometown. Because this is the last trip we took together. Because we were so happy here. We were together, and we were happy. Because Vancouver, because here,right here, is where I feel my family.”

Rosie climbs to her feet, holding her hand out to me, inviting me to follow suit. She traces the shape of the heart, the date, thatDandM. “I don’t want to lose this again. I can’t. I can’t forget where this tree is.”

“You won’t,” I promise her. “I’ll remember. We can put something here to mark it. Plant some flowers.”

She grins. “Peonies?”

I smile, touching my thumb to the dimple in her chin. “Peonies.”

Rosie stares at the heart for a long moment before she places her hand over the carving, eyes fluttering closed. When they open again, there’s a clarity behind them, a newfound hope. She’s not lost anymore; she’s found.

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