No River Too Wide. Emilie Richards
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ought to give it a try. Crowd-watching’s a big part of the fun. Lots of different kinds of people come. Tourists... Are you just visiting?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s a good place to live if you’re looking for one.”
“Why?”
He opened his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. “Why is it a good place to live?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not too many places where so many different kinds of people get along. Nobody stands out much here. You can be whoever you want to be, and nobody thinks you’re strange. At least most people don’t think so.”
“How do you figure out who you want to be?” she asked before she thought better of it.
He looked surprised. “Isn’t that the easy part?”
“No.”
“I guess you figure out who you admire, and you try to be like that.”
She admired people with courage, people who’d had dreams they’d pursued despite obstacles. People who had been able to protect their children.
She blinked back tears. “And if you fail?”
“Aren’t you too young to write off life that way?”
She wondered.
He stretched and stood, long arms reaching out as if to embrace the world. “I say go for whatever it is you haven’t done yet. You’ve got time right up until you draw your last breath.” He gave a quick, final wave, almost a salute, and strolled off.
She asked herself what she hadn’t done yet, and the answer was so overwhelming she could hardly breathe. If she took his advice, where would she start?
She gazed around the park, searching for a clue. Minutes passed and finally her heart rate began to slow. Then she saw the answer was simple.
“Blue jeans.”
It didn’t matter if she was frightened by everyday things that others took for granted. It didn’t matter if she felt alone in the world, something Rex had repeatedly warned her would happen if she ever tried to leave him. It didn’t matter that she no longer knew what a woman like her could actually achieve. Perhaps it didn’t even matter that she had failed at the things she had most hoped to accomplish and was still seeking forgiveness.
What mattered now were jeans. From what she could tell, she was the only person in Asheville who didn’t own a pair. If she didn’t want to stand out in the crowd, now was the time to remedy that.
She got to her feet, and her knees still trembled, but life was going to be like this. A pair of blue jeans. An afternoon alone in a strange—in more ways than one—city. Participating in a short conversation with someone she’d never met and wasn’t likely to see again.
Life. One step at a time with nobody blocking the way.
And if, for one moment after Taylor had dropped her off, she had yearned for Rex—who had all the answers as well as all the questions—then she supposed she could seek forgiveness for that, as well.
But first, one small thing. A pair of jeans.
This she could do.
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