Oscar laughed. “You and Kacey. One tent. That’s the God’s honest.”
“I know but…Never mind.”
“Wow, this is amazing,” Kacey said, joining us, her gaze sweeping over the view. She was adorable in her slouchy, oversize jeans rolled up to mid-shin, black combat boots, a tight white tee and a green plaid shirt about ten sizes too big. I put the day’s temp at eighty-six. Kacey wore a knitted beanie on her head anyway, as if it were fifty-six.
“Oscar, this place is so beautiful.”
“Isn’t it?” His smile was nostalgic. “I used to come here with my parents every year when I was a kid. They eventually got burnt out on it, but I never stopped coming. I force my closest friends and my best gal to come up with me at least four times a year.”
“At least,” Dena said, wrapping her arms around Oscar from behind, her chin against his shoulder. “But I love it here. I find it inspirational.” She turned her dark eyes to Kacey. “I hope you find it the same. I hear you brought your guitar?”
“Yeah.” Kacey glanced down, kicked an acorn. “Maybe I’ll play something. I do a mean Kumbaya.”
Oscar jerked his chin at me. “J, why don’t you show her around our site, get her familiar with the area. We’ll get Theo to put up your tent for you.”
“The hell I will,” Theo grunted from behind, on his knees in a shallow pond of orange nylon, directing Holly on how to help him.
I turned to Kacey. Her blue eyes seemingly more stunning in the overcast haze of the Basin, instead of the relentless white heat of Vegas.
“You want to see the creek?” I asked.
“I want to see everything.”
I took her around the site, through the woods and along the creek. It was only a few feet wide but with a solid current of clear, cold water. Kacey put her hands in it and jumped back with a yelp. She shook her hands dry and wrapped them in her shirt.
“Please tell me we don’t have to bathe in this,” she said, laughing.
“Not at all. The town of Baker has pay showers.”
“Thank God.”
“Just a short, four-hour hike down the mountain.”
Her smile dissolved. “For real?”
“Oscar likes to go all or nothing. We’re roughin’ it, city girl, for two whole days.”
Kacey blew out her lips. “There’d better be some serious stars tonight.”
“I guarantee it.”
We walked on through the trees, the creek’s whispering and babbling the only sound.
“Do you know where you’re going, Fletcher?” she asked, stepping carefully over a fallen tree.
I stopped walking. “I thought you had the map?”
“Very funny. If we get lost, I’m not eating bugs or moss or…lichen. I’ll tell you that right now.”
“You won’t have to. Sasquatch will probably get to us first.”
Kacey stopped cold. “Please don’t kid around. Big Foot? For real? Are there Big Foots? Big…Feet up here?”
“Big Feet?” My laugh started as a low rumble, picked up steam, and then I was laughing so hard tears stung my eyes.
“Shut up!” Kacey said, giving me a playful shove while trying to conceal her own laughter. “They scare me. And they’re real, you know,” she insisted, jabbing a finger at me. “You can’t tell me they’re not. I once saw a documentary…didn’t sleep for a week.”
“Come on,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I’ll show you why we’re here. Sasquatch-free territory, I promise.”
We walked on until the trees thinned, and then gave way to a clearing of that long, hair-like grass, at the edge of the world. The mountains rose up on all sides, dressed in the pale, dusty green of summer trees, no longer the vibrant green of spring and not yet the golds and reds of fall. Below us, the basin spread out for miles, a silvery blue lake tucked among more green. There were no boaters out yet to disturb the surface; it was as still as glass.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kacey murmured, her gaze sweeping all around, and then up to the overcast sky. “If the clouds pass, we should see stars tonight.”
I nodded. “If it’s clear enough, you can see the edge of the Milky Way.”
“Really? That would be amazing.”
I watched her gaze follow a hawk as it soared across the basin. Seeing the stars reflected in her eyes… that would be amazing. A chance of a lifetime.
Twilight descended and the six of us sat in fold-out chairs around the fire pit, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. Talk and laughter criss-crossed the circle, stories ending and others picking up in their wake. I watched the firelight cast a glow over the faces of the people I loved best. I captured the moments in mental snapshots.
Oscar’s laughing face, firelight catching Dena’s earring, Holly’s squeak of alarm when her marshmallow caught fire, Theo holding a hot dog straight up and turning his head sideways to bite it. And Kacey leaning her chin on the heel of her hand, glancing sideways at me, leaning toward me…