The Right Time 
Chapter 7
The Right Time
Wednesday morning, lodgepole pines flashed by the truck like thousands of matchsticks topped with green branches. I’d set out bowls, spoons, oatmeal, and milk for breakfast before escaping, leaving only a quick note of explanation for Mark.
Running to Pineville for groceries.
The wind whipped my hair around my face as I navigated the winding canyon, interspersed with sharp boulders and a frothy river. My thoughts grew as wide as the canyon until I reined them back in at the Frolicking Moose Cafe.
A wave of coffee and vanilla bean greeted me when I stepped inside. Real hardwood floors gleamed in the honey-glow of several lamps. “Welcome to the Frolicking Moose,” a barista with burnished copper hair and porcelain skin said. “My name is Lizbeth. Wi-fi password is on the chalkboard. Can I get you something to drink?”
She pitched a white washcloth over her shoulder. It landed right on the spigot.
“Basketball player?” I asked.
“Nah. I just practice when no one’s here. Do you work at Adventura?”
My eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, I do. How’d you know?”
She flashed me a quick grin, her eyes sparkling. “I’m in touch with the forest spirits, but I’m not crazy. I reserve that designation for people like my mother.” Her playful gaze and layers of hair reminded me of a fairy. Young. Bright. Willowy. And a tad bit quirky.
“You’ve heard of Adventura?”
“JJ and Mark bum off the internet all the time. You have to be their sister. Your eyes are just like JJ’s.”
“That’s a compliment, right?”
Her lips twitched. “Trust me,” she said, turning away. “Looking like JJ is a blessing from the gods. Let me know if you want anything.”
She wandered back to the counter, the layers of her summery white dress trailing behind her. Four text messages from Lexie occupied my attention while I waited for the wi-fi to connect.
Found out they make birthday cake Oreos now. Saboteurs.
The gym is boring without you showing up the male lifters.
Bought a Prana headband. Look like a dork. I long for sculpted cheekbones.
Still not engaged. The suspense is killing me.
After responding to Lexie and a text message from Dad to schedule a Rudy’s Diner date, I switched to my internet browser. “Let’s check on Nathan,” I murmured and logged onto Facebook.
Lexie had posted a meme about donuts, a friend from college had sent me a message, and Nathan…
…had posted a lovely photo of his new flat in New York.
An ache in my chest made me grimace, but it ebbed away. His profile betrayed nothing about our broken relationship. Had I wanted it to? Not really. But some acknowledgment of my slip from his life would have been nice. At least, I thought it would.
Resigned, I switched to email. A bill payment reminder from Travelers Credit Card caught my eye. Right below it waited for a message from an unfamiliar sender.
“Jodie Renner?” I murmured, clicking on it.
Megan,
My name is Jodie Renner. I work with EveryHealth Corporation as a nurse recruiter. Your old manager, Karen, speaks highly of you.
If you’re still looking for a job, give me a call or send me an email. I have lots of options. No reason to limit yourself to the Intensive Care Units. We even take travel-nursing contracts. I can direct you to the right companies if you’d like.
EveryHealth has been on a building binge the last decade, so I have contacts everywhere. I think I could find you a flight-nurse slot. Karen mentioned you’ve been on that path. Would that interest you?
I look forward to hearing from you.
Regards,
Jodie
A scour pad moved underneath my ribs with every breath. As soon as I finished reading the email, I set my phone down, blinking.
I think I could find you a flight-nurse slot.
Would that interest you?
The thought made my heart pound in my throat. A flight-nurse position would mean classes. Certifications. New thrills. A chance to exceed expectations. Major career advancement. It seemed too good to be true. Too easy.
“You still on planet earth?”
Lizbeth’s voice broke me out of my trance. I jumped.
“Whoa, Nessie.” She held up a palm. “Take it easy. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t having one of those weird seizures where people just stare.”
“No,” I said with a sheepish smile. “I’m good. Just … thinking.”
She put her palms on the counter and leaned against them. “Want to talk about it? Baristas make better therapists than bartenders. I kept the Olsens from divorcing last year.”
“It’s more of a career thing than a relationship thing.”
Lizbeth’s eyebrows rose.
“Oh?”
“Uh … just a job opportunity may be coming through. Seems a little too good to be true, though.”
Her pixie-like expression fell. “Probably is.” The bell on the door tinkled. A man with a belt buckle the size of my face swaggered in, cowboy boots thudding with every step. Lizbeth backed away from me.
“Good luck.” She waved a pale hand. “I hope it’s something good.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
But something good at the right time, I silently thought. What if Jodie found me a job while I was working at Adventura? Could I leave if the perfect position came up?
Deciding I’d think about that later—if Jodie could even work such magic—I flipped my phone over, pulled up the email, and tapped out a quick response. I doubted she could simply wave a wand and find me a flight-nurse job.
But maybe.
Jodie,
I’m very interested. When can you talk?
—Megan Bailey
Things That Scare Me
The first week ended like a slow bleed. By the end, everyone—even the campers—looked haggard, sunburned, and exhausted. When the last camper left at nine on Saturday morning, the staff scattered to Pineville and Jackson City. JJ and I stayed behind. I dropped onto his cot in the cabin he shared with Mark and stared at a picture of El Capitan he’d tacked on the wall.
“Hey,” he said, looking up from adjusting a climbing harness. “Just you and me, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Just the way I like it,” he murmured.
I grabbed a plush basketball from the floor and attempted to throw it in the hoop. It missed and bounced off the wall. A vibration buzzed against my leg, and I pulled out my phone to see a voicemail reminder from earlier this morning. While JJ studied the tension on his harness, I clicked on the voicemail and pressed the phone to my ear. It crackled at first but came through clearly when I sat up.
“Megan Bailey, this is Jameson from Traveler’s Credit Card. I’m calling in regards to a missed payment for last month—”
My heart skipped. I shut the phone off and stuffed it under my leg. The credit card bill. I’d completely forgotten. My mortgage and car payment would have already gone through by now, leaving only twenty dollars in my account.
Dad, I thought with a sudden spark of hope. I’ll ask him for a small loan at lunch next week. Problem solved.
“Hey, wanna prank Mark?” I asked, shoving thoughts of debt aside. “We could string his underwear up the flagpole.”
JJ snorted. “Rookie.”
“Maybe a run? I want to build my endurance back up.”
He tossed a harness over to me. It landed on my chest with a heavy thud. “We’ll go for a run this evening. Get your shoes. We’re climbing.”
I perked up. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
After we burdened ourselves with ropes, carabiners, and gear, JJ strode into the forest, his man bun bobbing with every step. He wore a pair of gray shorts and a loose white shirt that deepened his already tan skin. The bulging muscles of his calves flexed with every step.
“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing behind us. “The tower is that way.”
“We’re not climbing the tower.”
Content to be away from Adventura and alone with JJ, I followed with no further questions. JJ had a soothing, easy presence—the perfect counter to Mark’s constant spark of energy. Sunlight rippled through the leaves as we passed underneath the branches. The path gave way to a trail, then a footpath. I’d just started to work up a sweat when we stopped.
“This,” JJ said, craning his head back, “is what we’re going to climb.”
A wall of rock stood before us, decorated by occasional spurts of grass. Tufts of wildflowers clung to ledges barely wide enough for a handhold. The top loomed far overhead. The sun blazed full on my shoulders now, and I enjoyed the friendly burn.
I dropped the rope I’d been carrying. The climb would be two rope lengths, I imagined. A nice challenge to get back into it. JJ would lead. He always did. I stretched my arms behind my neck.
“Perfect. Let’s scale this beast.”
JJ morphed into another man when he climbed. Gone were the carefree smiles, the easygoing nature, and the universal acceptance. His face grew taut. His eyes hardened. He glanced back at me over his shoulder, clips swinging at his hips.
“Ready?”
“On belay, brother.”
We committed to silence for the next half hour, except for the occasional comment as JJ searched for handholds. He ascended with a fluid, easy grace, taking his time. He made it look so natural, as if he’d been born on the rocks.
Once at the top of the first pitch, he called down.
“Let’s go, Megara. Your turn.”
I ran my fingers along the harness to keep it from digging into my thighs. “Right,” I said, cracking my neck. “Here I come.”
Within two minutes, my feet stumbled over the footholds. Although I burrowed deep with my toe box, my shoes didn’t grip like JJ’s. Undaunted, I pressed on, moving from grip to grip, using the power in my legs. If nothing else, pushing my body released some of my simmering frustration. For the second time since arriving at Adventura, I lived in the moment and let go of the rest.
When I grappled for the top, my arms weak with fatigue and legs trembling, JJ grabbed my arm. He pulled me up, and I flopped onto my back.
“You’re weak sauce, Megara.” He tossed me a Nalgene with a grin. “Looks like we’ll have to climb together every weekend until you get your strength back.”
“Shut. Up,” I muttered in between pants. The muscles in both my hands had started to cramp. I shook them out. One of my nails pulsed. I’d chipped it so deep it bled. JJ sat back and stared at the view. I straightened up, leaning back on my palms, and gazed over the mountains.
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah.” He pulled a long draw of water. “I know.”
Fields of evergreen trees rippled below us, interspersed with bulwarks of stone. The sun hadn’t risen above the mountains yet, shedding folds of light on the ravines and cliffs across from us. Wispy strung-cotton clouds filled the wedge of cerulean sky. We loomed above Adventura, gazing down like nesting eagles. The folds of the mountain cradled us in their deep grooves. Standing on top of something made me feel powerful and alive in a way that made my blood buzz. Cocooned in my job and Midwest world, I’d forgotten how good it felt to be part of a mountain.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” I breathed. “Some people are still asleep at home. And here we are … standing on top of the world.”
“We’re the lucky ones,” he said. “We live here.”
We sat close together, soaking in the majesty of the mountains until JJ broke the silence. He leaned back, scuffing his shoes on loose slate.
“So, you spent some time with Mom last week. What do you think?”
“What do you mean?”
He stared into the distance, his jaw tight. “Something’s off. I’ve only been back from California for a month, but Mom and Dad are … different. The whole vibe is weird. Mark shrugged it off when I asked him. Said it wasn’t his business.”
I swallowed, recalling with frightening clarity the fear in Mom’s eyes. The way she trembled when I hugged her. Her desperate need for privacy and connection all at the same time.
“Define ‘weird.'” I chucked a rock off the ledge. “Mom and Dad used to dance to Neil Diamond in the kitchen, remember? When it comes to parents, ‘weird’ is subjective.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think they’re talking. Dad hardly ever comes around. Mom texts me all the time about the stupidest stuff. She tried to hide it, but when she found out you were going to come, she cried. I don’t know, Meg. Something is up.”
My throat ached with the desire to tell him. Why should he be the only one who doesn’t know? But my promise to Mom held me back.
“What if something were up?” I asked. “That doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. Right? I mean … what do you think it would even mean?”
His nostrils flared. “I don’t know. The end of the family?”
I recoiled. “What?”
“If Mom and Dad were having marriage issues, everything would fall apart.”
“How?”
“They’re supposed to be the glue. Mom is always successful. Flight-nurse. Marathoner. Tri-athlete. She doesn’t fail at anything. What does it mean that she is—if my assumption is correct—failing the most important relationship of her life?”
His words hit too close to something hot and painful inside me. It prickled up my throat like a moving porcupine. A thousand thoughts whirled through my mind at top speed. Was it failure? All I managed to say was, “No one is indomitable, JJ. She’d be furious if she knew you thought she was. That sets an expectation that’s almost impossible to maintain.”
JJ swallowed, and I wondered what he wasn’t saying.
“Are you more afraid of what it would mean for them, or for you?” I asked.
He paused. “I don’t know.”
“I’ve been texting Dad. We’re planning on meeting up for lunch soon.”
He shrugged, twisting his lips. For a moment, a flash of pain illuminated his eyes, then disappeared. I wondered if Dad had made room for JJ the way he’d made room for me.
Another long silence passed. JJ fell into a brooding stare while I attempted to navigate the awkward waters of what I knew and he didn’t. No matter how I imagined a conversation that might comfort him, they all ended with me breaking my promise to Mom.
I nudged JJ with my elbow. “I’m sure things will be fine,” I said. “Maybe they just need some space. They’ve been together forever, you know? They belong together.”
“Yeah.” He twirled a leaf in his hand, then flicked it to the side. “Maybe.”
“You always have Mark and me.”
His eyes met mine. They’d hardened into olive-green steel but softened at the edges. “Yeah?” he asked with a wry grin.
“Yeah. Always.”
The intensity of the moment passed, and we turned back to staring at the mountains, seeking solace in the rocks and rills. From where we’d perched, I could just make out the pitch of my cabin roof, and right next to it, Justin’s.
“What do you know about Justin?” I asked.
“Everything.”
“Really?”
A quick grin, reminiscent of the old JJ, flashed across his face. “Just kidding. Uh … I know that he’s investing a lot of money—like more than anyone else—in a boys’ summer camp that may or may not fail.”
“So did you.”
“Right. He’s crazy.”
I couldn’t disagree.
“His grandfather died two-and-a-half weeks ago. He has a work ethic unlike anything I’ve ever seen and no family to speak of.”
“His grandpa died?” I asked with a pang of compassion. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Where are his parents?”
JJ shrugged. “Dunno. Said he hardly knew them.”
“Did his grandfather raise him?”
“Yeah. He came back from the funeral the same day you returned.” He leaned back on his palms. His shoulders eased, and the tension in his face faded. “He had to stay for a little while, take care of some things on the estate.”
“Estate?”
“Yeah. His family’s loaded. Lives in this big mansion in California. He’s old money, I guess.”
“I had no idea.”
“Me neither at first,” JJ said, wiping his hands on his pants. “He’s low key like that. He prefers being on his own. Kind of a wanderer. He invested in Adventura because then he could live in the mountains.” He paused. “Why do you ask? You gonna break up with Nathan and go for Justin?”
I played it cool, remembering anew that my brothers didn’t have all the information. “Mostly curious. I can’t get a read on him.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Hmm.”
“How’s Nathan?”
“Good,” I murmured, feeling the weight of his steady gaze. “Just got a promotion. Do you ever miss Stacey?”
JJ didn’t seem as surprised by the question—or rapid change of subject—as I had expected.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think so. But it’s hard to say. It’s been a long time since we broke up.” He paused, as if mentally tallying the time. “Four years?”
“Is it her you miss?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. I miss knowing someone would be there at the end of the day. Sometimes I get lonely, and I miss her companionship then. But I don’t miss the lies and twists and cliffs of our time together. What about you?”
“Me? What about me?”
“Are you happy with Nathan?”
I looked away. “It’s complicated.”
“You broke up, didn’t you?”
My gaze snapped back to his.
“What?”
He ran his tongue over his teeth and grinned. “Don’t try to hide it, Meg. I can read you like a book.”
I harrumphed, and my shoulders slouched.
“Cannot. What gave it away?”
“Coming here.” He crossed one ankle over the other. “It seemed like you were running away from something, the way you called and said you wanted the job but wouldn’t go into details . You haven’t mentioned Nathan once, either. It’s not hard to figure out.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
He shrugged. “Figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”
I leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. I’d missed his warm, calming touch. The shriveled part of my heart that had once belonged to Nathan let out a big sigh. It didn’t crinkle so much anymore.
“Thanks,” I whispered. My appreciation encompassed so much, and I hoped he could sense it. He squeezed me tighter.
“You don’t have to hide anything from us, Megara,” he said against my hair.
“Thanks,” I said, closing my eyes. “For this climb. I needed it.”
He squeezed my shoulders.
“Anytime, sister. Anytime.”