Page 111 of Rest In Pink

“Cell tower.” He got his backpack out of the back seat. “Come on.”

“Why do we need a cell tower?”

“You’ll see.”

“Vince.”

“Come on,” he said again, and I followed him to the chain link fence around the tower. The gate was unlocked, which seemed weird, like, why have such a scary fence if you leave the gate open?

Standing in the opening, he crooked his finger at me.

“No,” I said.

“This is important,” he said, and he wasn’t grinning at me and he didn’t have that look in his eye, and I realized this wasn’t about sex.

He went to the ladder bolted to the side of the tower. Climbed up a couple of rungs, then turned and extended his hand.

“So now what?” I asked.

“Up,” he said, and I looked at the cell tower that looked at least a mile high.

“I’m not good with heights,” I said, which wasn’t something I would normally admit to, but now it was necessary. And there was a flashing red light way up there; didn’t that mean don’t climb?

“I know,” he said. “I’ll be right with you the whole way. I won’t let you fall.” He was so quiet and so sure that I was torn.

“This is really important to you,” I said.

“This is the only way I can think of to show you what’s important.”

I took a deep breath and went over to the ladder. Ten thousand rungs at least. I took his hand.

He pulled me up onto the first rung, and I thought what I always did when he grabbed my hand like that and pulled me, that I kind of knew the first time when he pulled me out of the ditch six weeks ago that he was going to be something in my life. I just didn’t know what then.

I didn’t know what now.

“Don’t look down,” he said. “Just look at the next rung to grab.”

I started to climb and he let me slide past him and then he was right behind me. I kept my eyes on the next rung and kept climbing. My foot slipped off the rung once and his hand was on my back, pressing me against the ladder until I got it back on again. It was windy, which didn’t help. I could hear the leaves rustling in the trees all around. And when I reached the platform, I almost fell again and his hand was on me again, sure and steady.

I crawled onto the platform and sat there, breathing hard, my eyes closed, and then he was beside me, his arm around me, and we just sat there, him being patient and me trying to get my breathing back under control.

Then he said, “Open your eyes, Liz,” and I did and all I could see was the tops of trees in the bright moonlight. “We’re going to move around to the side,” he said and stood up, and he reached down for me again, and I took his hand again and let him pull me to my feet, and then I inched around the catwalk there, looking up at the sky, going around a corner, and then he said, “Sit down,” and I slid down, and he said, “Open your eyes,” and I did and there was the whole valley spread out below me.

Vince pulled his blanket out of the pack and draped it around me because it was even windier up here. The wind made odd noises going around the struts of the tower and the metal creaked which was nerve-wracking. Vince leaned in close so we could talk without shouting, like we were isolated from the rest of the world, his arm strong around me, his breath warm on my cheek.

And the view was magnificent, if terrifying. I could see everything from up here, like those Google Maps photos.

“Tell me what you see,” he said.

I saw eighteen years of pain, but I didn’t want to say that. So wimpy.

He pointed out. “That blue aluminum-sided building over there with the lights all around is the high school.”

“I know,” I said. “I went there.”

“Tell me what you remember about it.”

“I remember that nobody could believe Molly and I were cousins. Probably because I dyed my hair black and got my nose pierced and refused to wear dresses. We looked enough alike that it was like Good Molly and Evil Molly.”

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