Page 68 of The Other Side
My attention sweeps to her again when I briefly lean in. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“Fine.”
Callie falls in step with me as we tread along the tree-lined driveway. The white oaks spread their branches above us, forming a canopy of reddish-pink and soft bronze leaves. The sunlight gleams over the spots that have transitioned to a yellow-green, and the taps of our heels insert the silence.
“This is stunning.”
I turn to Callie, whose nose is tilted toward the umbrella of foliage. Her hands are fidgeting against each other at her stomach, and all I want to do is hold one. Steady her nerves in the palm of my hand so she doesn’t have to suffer through the stress alone.
We turn with the bend of the pavement, and a Tudor-style mansion is set back on a large piece of property. It’s huddled between oaks and conifers; the steeply pitched gable rooves resting under the blue sky.
She smiles as she flicks her focus my way. Then I’m angling my head toward the opposite direction. “This way.”
My legs slow once we greet the cobblestone path that enters the garden. Floral notes mingle with mulch, the scent pungent but tranquil. I train my concentration on Callie, her round eyes growing with glee as bursts of color trespass our route.
Daffodils, tulips, and crocuses bloom along the winding walkway. Rhododendrons, azaleas, and cherry blossoms add bubbly pinks and purples.
A couple butterflies flutter through the petals of the flowers that span for acres inside the dawn redwoods. Ecstasy spreads inside me, a smirk curving my lips as Callie treads forward.
She’s in front of me now, and my hand dips into my pocket to grab my phone. My gaze lingers on the back of her denim jacket, the hem of her satin dress shifting as she travels closer to a pink rhododendron.
She brushes her fingertips along the delicate petals. I swallow thickly, watching her inhale the sweet scent, and her peace cultivates my own.
“Callie.”
With the stem of the rhododendron framed between two fingers, she peeks over her shoulder. There’s this wavy tendril that falls adorably over the corner of her eye, caught in the thickness of her curled lashes.
When she notices the phone stationed upright in my palm, a wide smile emerges from her face. Her pearly teeth shine just as vividly as the plants around her, and then my thumb snaps the photo.
I lower the phone, pocketing the device when Callie’s brows knit. “You’re not even gonna let me approve of the picture?”
“I like it the way it is,” I answer, walking closer to her.
She faces me, her eyes locked on my gray long-sleeve. “I thought about the loblolly pine trees today.”
When her gaze travels up, she smirks before venturing along the pathway again.
My legs stroll to fall in sync with hers, my heart practically leaping after her. “What did you think about?”
She shakes her head, tilting it to the sky so she whisks the loose strands out of her face. Then a sigh exits her plump lips. “I wondered what they look like now,” she admits. “Do you think they look the same or different?”
Golden strands of sunlight braid through her chestnut waves, and my core buckles. “Different,” I respond. “We were just kids the last time we saw them. Our perception was skewed.”
“They’re not as beautiful as this,” Callie states. Her eyes wander across the surrounding garden, dazzled by the beauty that encases us.
I’ve always imagined what this moment would be like. The very instant in time I would witness Callie submerged in every shade of color her heart yearned for.
Every color she deserves.
I imagined the liberation I would feel, knowing she’s finally reached the finish line. Knowing she’s finally climbed over those dreaded hills of Willowhart.
And after today, there’s not a day I won’t look forward to knowing a vision like this exists.
“But I hope they’re the same,” I add.
“Why do you say that?” she asks, her head turning to me.
I pivot my attention forward, my hands burrowing in my pockets. “I’d like to think that some things never change,” I reply. “Especially the things that carry you through the toughest times.”
