Caching In (25 page)

My compass directed me Northwest. I didn't see a walkway of any sort, but as I looked closer, I saw a dirt path only wide enough to fit one body through. I had to remember to check myself for ticks when I got back home. Even my short hair still attracted bugs. The thought alone gave me the willies. I brushed my hand through my hair and moved on.

I reached the end of the pathway, which opened up into a meadow. The view took my breath away with its tall flowers surrounding a pond. I looked down at my phone, my heart skipping a beat when I realized how close I became to finding it. Amid all the flowers and the beautiful lake, no trees existed except for one. The tree didn’t overpower the amazing scene, but certainly dominated it. The weeping willow fanned out over a tattered white bench. That was it. The cache must be by the tree or the bench. I started to walk toward it, until that turned into a jog, and finally I sprinted, knowing only moments stood between me and the find.

When I reached the bench, I checked back with my phone, which showed me within five feet. I tried to get excited, but I was smart enough not to claim victory yet. With the app, it may show a mere few feet between me and the cache, but a margin of error always existed. This may take me only a few minutes to find, or a good hour. Based on my history, an hour (or even two) seemed more likely.

“Here goes nothing,” I said out loud, to no one but me. I started to think this through. What had I learned so far to help me find this? The cache could be a large box, or so minuscule it could be embedded into a small sliver in the bench. Not only did I need to inspect by sight, but also touch every single piece of that bench and tree.

I started with the bench. The wood was not only worn, but very rough and wrinkled, probably from rain. I touched between every opening and rolled my finger over every screw. I even got my fingers in the ground around the bench. I crawled onto the ground and inspected underneath, finding absolutely nothing.

Okay, I wouldn't find it in the bench, so I needed to move onto the weeping willow. I started at the bottom, dirt embedding itself under my nails as I outlined the entire tree. I observed every piece of the bark, touching and pulling it back in case Seth cleverly hid the cache within. When I realized it wasn't hidden in the bench, or the trunk of the tree, I lifted my head to the branches crying above me. Son of a bitch. I needed to climb this thing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The base of the tree jutted out of the ground, massive and strong. Though I would be able to reach the first opening in the tree with my hand, and hoist myself up with no issue, if what I needed to find wasn’t in plain view, I’d need to crawl up a few branches, which seemed to go on forever, the tearful leaves falling onto the ground blanketing the bench and the grass surrounding it. Before placing my hand on the trunk, I took one last look around the bench, and the dirt surrounding the tree, to make absolute sure I didn't miss anything. I still considered myself pretty new at this, and didn’t want to overlook anything.

Climbing up a tree couldn’t be much worse than climbing up the rock climbing wall. Granted, when I did that, I wore a harness and a professional stood below me. This time, it was only me and Mother Nature. This tree didn’t pass inspections like the adventure place, and I didn’t have blocks to put my feet on and help guide me. Nope. Success depended upon me trusting myself - and the tree.

I touched the bark. The dampness caught me by surprise, and I wiped my hand on my shorts. Realizing the entire climb they’d be wet anyway, I figured screw it, and put both hands on. I found my footing before shoving myself forward, lurching into the large space where the tree separated into branch upon branch, extensions of themselves. Upon arrival at the space, I sat, wrapping my arms around one of the large branches. I leaned forward, sucked in the air, and admired the calm water in the pond. This place evoked such a peaceful emotion inside of me. How did Seth ever find it?

The cache. I couldn’t waste much more time. I wanted to find it before Seth arrived. I didn’t want to let him down. Before he sent me out on my own, he expressed how much confidence he had in me. Left or right. Left or right. I made the decision to go with my gut, and go right, since I was right handed, and the branch to the left jutted out over the bench. I envisioned myself falling off if I went left, crashing into the bench in an awkward position. I figured if my klutzy self
did
fall (fifty-percent chance), falling straight onto the ground may be safer than into the object most likely to impale me with splinters. I pressed my body into the bark before lifting up and placing my right foot near where my hand rested. My hand shook, and my heart gargled in my throat as I came to terms with the fact I was climbing a tree. Never in my life had I a climbed a tree. Crazy, right? Lots of girls climbed trees as kids. I admired them as they whisked up the branches so gracefully, and assumed I must have missed a class teaching how to do it. Me? Hell, no. Too high. Too risky. Rock climbing and tree climbing might as well be one in the same, though.
Just do it, Ally
, I pushed myself.
Get this done.
Sweat already formed on my hairline, and the armpits of my shirt started to dampen. Lovely. Just lovely.

I couldn’t waste time worrying, though. I inched up the branch like a caterpillar, my grasp tight and strong. The bark crushed my chest as it pushed into it, but my mission called for me to ignore the pain and keep moving. When I reached mid-branch and another one joined, I stopped, whimpering as I took my shaking hand off the branch and touched my hand to my forehead. Once I opened my eyes, I noticed twine. I traced my finger down the honey colored rope which wrapped around the branch. I slipped, and grabbed onto the branch again.
Close one, Ally
. I steadied myself before leaning against the branch, and continuing the path to the cache.

There it was. A medium sized cylinder container, draped in pastel pink, outlined with glitter, a (more than likely fake) pearl glued to the middle. I carefully untied it and placed the box in my lap as I rolled so my back pressed against the branch. “Okay, Ally,” I said out loud, catching my breath. “Here we go.”

I unscrewed the cap, placing the cover in my pocket. Reaching my hand in, I felt a Ziploc bag. Inside I found a small notepad, a pen, and other numerous items. First I opened the notepad, clearly the log. I used the pen inside to write my geocaching name and date down. I placed the notepad and pen on my lap as I pulled out the first item, a necklace with the same stone as the top of the container. The second item was a rolled up piece of cloth. I unrolled it to discover a bib, “Daddy’s Girl” written across the white fabric in pink letters. The last item inside the container was a wristband. Part of the words were blacked out with a marker, but the words that weren’t read “Alyssa, Baby Girl.”

Alyssa telling me about Willow and holding the truth in my hands were two completely different experiences of emotion. This box held a piece of Seth - a piece of him he loved and could never get back. During a time he should have been enjoying being a father, he mourned every day instead. He locked away pieces of his past in this cache, and hid it away. I couldn’t fathom how he even dealt with this. I placed the items back inside. My hands shook as I attempted to tie the string back on the branch, only the container slipped from my hand and onto the ground. Dammit. I’d have to climb back down, get the container, and climb the tree again, nothing I wanted to do. Leaving the cache on the ground was a no-no. I was required to put it back, per the rules of geocaching, and planned to be respectful.

I carefully found my way back to the ground. Which side did the box land on again? My breathing increased as I searched, wanting to get the container back where it belonged and back into the tree. As I finally found it, I reached down to grab it - only my hand wasn’t the only one grabbing for it. I snatched it up and looked up, face to face with Seth, tears already flowing from his eyes.

----------

Seth threw his arms around me, and we tumbled to the ground. I held onto him as we lay in the grass, his sniffles the only noise around us. I wanted to cry with him, for him, but only dryness filled my eyes. The shock of the hard truth of his past hit me, and while he struggled to breathe through tears, my air became lost in panic. Panic to find the words to comfort him. Panic to be able to fill this void left in his heart. Panic I got in over my head and even at almost thirty, I was too young to deal with something like this.

“I’m sorry, Ally.” His weight lifted off of me, yet, still, somehow, remained.

I sat up, wiping down my clothes to get the grass off. “Don’t be. And thank you for showing me this. For letting me see it.”

“Alyssa was right. If we’re to be together, I needed to share this with you. I was afraid to let you in all the way and see me so vulnerable and full of pain.”

Vulnerability sucked. I knew that to be true. Being vulnerable is what blinded me from Josh’s cheating ways for many years. It’s what allowed me to let him sneak that kiss in and even question my decision dumping him. And it caused me to think Seth cheated on me and didn’t care, when clearly it was the complete opposite from the truth. “When we’re in love, we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, sometimes to a fault.”

The moment Seth’s eyes met mine, I regretted my words. “In love?”

“No. Not what I meant. Sorry.” I waved my hands, trying to figure out a way to take back the words. Did I love him? Yes. I did. That’s what made all this so difficult. Now, I’d gone and probably scared him away. Leave it to Ally to screw everything up.

Now he stood, and leaned against the tree. “What did you mean, then?”

I stared at him above me as I sat on ground, looking up at him, the harsh afternoon sun beating down on me, while the leaves of the tree shadowed his face. Did he want the truth? Or would the truth freak him out? Not once had he mentioned the word love. I thought I loved Josh, and he me, but it turned out terribly. Maybe it was safest to never fall in love. But it was too late. Much too late.

“Ally? What did you mean?”

I slapped my hands together to pat off dirt and grass as I stood. “I mean, love can mean so many things. Your love for your daughter, it can’t be replaced. No one can take that from you. You shouldn’t let your fears keep you from love.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

Seth scooted of the tree and walked up to me. He put his hands on my waist and pulled me into him. “Are you allowing fear to keep you from loving me?”

His forehead touched mine, the tips of our noses touching. His warm breath still carried the cinnamon from the syrup he had this morning. My speeding heart jumped around in my chest. “Nothing is keeping me.”

With that, my knees started to give out as he touched his lips to mine. He held me in his arms, his hands running up and down my back as our kisses became harder and harder. I lifted my leg off the ground, and he grabbed it by the knee, pulling me in, and I tingled as our bodies pressed against each other. I was unaware of our surroundings, only wanting to succumb to his advances, committing to him fully, and tell him over and over again how much I wanted him, needed him, loved him. And dammit, I had him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I slammed the hotel door behind me as Seth shoved my body against it. My arms raised in the air, my palms against the door as he kissed my neck, tickling my ear with his tongue. Goose pimples covered my body with every touch, and my nipples perked as he kissed my collarbone. I moved my hands down, lifted his shirt slightly and pressed my hand against his stomach. Once I found his belt buckle, I raced to undo it. At first I struggled, but managed to get it off. Without a second thought, I reached my hands in his pants, narrowly missing his manhood as I roamed to the back to grab his ass. He pushed my hands away, took the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head. We stopped and stared at each other for a long moment, realizing what was about to happen. There wouldn’t be a discussion on if we should or shouldn’t, or what it meant, or if we were ready. We both knew the time had finally come.

“Wait.” Seth held his finger to my lips.

Shit. I only had my shirt off and he already changed his mind. Many times I pictured this moment, expecting everything to go off without a hitch. In every girl’s fantasy, sex played out perfectly, both partners syncing together, their bodies created for each other. Mistakes didn’t exist in the movies. Each partner anticipated the next move, gracefully moving through the motions like a ballet dancer. The first time between lovers always went perfectly, and the pressure built on me to be sure Seth and I’s first time together went as smoothly as possible. True, I only had two other first times under my belt, but those weren’t free from awkwardness, and I doubted the moments to follow with Seth would be, either. Either way, I needed to try to make the experience memorable and faultless.
If
anything happened. What on earth was he doing?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped a few times, and a song started to play through his speaker.
Through the Dark
, one of my favorite One Direction songs. Oh, how I loved this man. Forget Harry Styles. A real rock star stood in my presence.

“Come here,” he curled his finger at me.