His steady gaze never left hers as he engaged with the outdated controls, and the car lurched into its downward trajectory. “We, of the North Carolina State Parks System, do hope you’ve enjoyed your visit to Mount Mitchell today—”
Marigold smiled and nodded her head.
“—but not so much that you feel the urge to visit us again. We’re very busy, and there are other tourists to meet. The world is brimming with tourists. We won’t be thinking about you, so you should stop thinking about us. Just stop it. Right now.”
The other passengers continued to laugh.
Marigold gave North an exaggerated pout.
“I know. It’s hard.” His mischievous gleam intensified. “This is a magnificent mountain. It’s tall and stately and—some might say—incredibly handsome.”
Marigold covered a snort with her hand.
“The other mountains you’ll meet on future road trips will have far less appeal, but … you had your chance.” North gave a rueful shake of his head. “You chose to come down. There’s no going back up.”
The rest of the car still didn’t realize anything out of the ordinary was happening, until Marigold’s voice rang out, loud and clear: “But what if we like this mountain? What if we can’t even see the other mountains because we’re so infatuated with the one standing right before us?”
She felt a growing number of eyes on the back of her head, but she kept her own eyes on North. The lines of his face were solemn. Mock, at first. And then something more genuine. “It sounds like you like this mountain a lot,” he said.
“I do.”
“I see.”
“Today wasn’t my first visit. When I left the last time, it destroyed me, but I didn’t understand why. I just … couldn’t stop thinking about it. The mountain,” she clarified. “So I returned to uncover the reason.”
North paused. “And what did you discover?”
“That my feelings were stronger than I’d realized.”
“Exactly … how strong?”
“Very strong.”
“I see,” North said again.
Their audience oohed behind them. No one was looking at the view outside as Marigold placed a hand on the center of her chest. “And now my heart is breaking to be back in this same position. Leaving.” Her tone turned pleading. “I wish the mountain would come with me, but even I know that’s impossible. It takes millions and millions of years to move a mountain. It takes shifting plates. Violent earthquakes.”
“Dynamite helps.” He’d forgotten to use the intercom.
She smiled sadly. “I’m all out.”
“You might’ve used more than you realized.”
Marigold’s veins throbbed as North reached out and gently touched her elbow, which was still hanging over the back of the bench. His fingers were warm.
“Besides,” he said, “this isn’t that big of a mountain. It’s not like it’s Denali or anything.”
Marigold moved her arm and took North’s hand. She squeezed. He squeezed back. They were both smiling.
North picked up the intercom with his other hand and returned his attention to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, in case you were wondering: Yes. This does happen on every descent.”
“Give her a kiss!” someone shouted.
“As you can see from the patch on my shirtsleeve,” North said, “I’m a volunteer. Providing that level of entertainment would be above my pay grade.”
Everyone laughed again.
As North launched into his regularly scheduled monologue, he was in a dazzling mood, engaging them all in jokes and debates. They passed the other car, empty except for its driver, and North gave the Maria’s bell a hearty ring. The driver of the Elisha followed suit. Marigold basked in North’s glow. A soft wind drifted in through the open windows, and the car wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as it had been on her ascent. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all.
North didn’t let go of her hand until they reached the bottom and he had to help the others disembark. Several of them teased her as they passed by. At last, North reentered the car. He removed his hat and knelt beside her, eye-level. “Hi,” he said.
Heat rose to Marigold’s cheeks. “Hi.”
“I’m glad you waited for my car.”
“I’m glad you’re glad. Are you done for the day?”
“I saw you,” he said, ignoring the question, “right after I left you on top of the mountain.”
Marigold cocked her head. She didn’t know what he meant.
“I saw the drawing you gave to that boy. He was sitting in the second row, and he was holding it in his lap. Holding me in his lap. It felt like a sign.”
“A good sign or a bad sign?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
She smiled. “You’ve always been my favorite character.”
North held her gaze, a smile forming on his own lips. “I’m almost ready to go.” It was the reply to her earlier question. “There’s only one last thing I need to do.”
Marigold leaned forward. Her heart pounded like a timpani, and her eyes closed—as he jumped to his feet with a thunderous clang. Her eyes shot back open.
He grinned and reoffered his hand.
“You’re a tease,” she said, blushing harder. But she took it.
They strolled out of the funicular. Unlike summer afternoons, summer evenings were magical. The rays of the sun stretched onward and outward in a mellow caress, the cicadas clicked and hummed in an insect orchestration, and the asphalt shimmered in a lazy and delicious heat.
North nodded toward the far end of the lot where her car was parked. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. I need to stop by the park office first.” His warm hand squeezed hers once more—tightly, reluctantly—before he vanished into the building.
Marigold ambled to her car and unlocked the door. When she opened it, a wave of hot air blasted her with the force of a nuclear explosion. She rolled down the windows and slammed the door shut again.
A split-rail fence ran along the edge of the lot, so Marigold hopped up and sat there instead, feet perched on the bottom rail. The sunshine felt like a tonic. The scent of honeysuckle drifted through the breeze. Marigold still didn’t know what was about to happen, but at least now she understood why she was here.
Ten minutes later, North appeared. He wore the plain white T-shirt, and he’d changed into jeans. The shorts were gone. Did that mean he was still accepting the pants? The new job? Fresh panic struck Marigold with as much force as the air inside her car.
North headed for her in a straight line. The lot had emptied, and they were alone. Her heartbeat flew into an erratic state. His reluctance to kiss me. His reluctant release of my hand.
Was this the beginning or the end?
He stopped several feet away, sensing her fear. Or maybe he was afraid, too. “I had to turn in my uniform. I’ll really miss those shorts.”
Marigold tried to steady her voice. “Because … the pants. The promotion.”
He shook his head. A small smile appeared.
“Because … you quit? Did–did you just quit?”
His smile grew bigger. He nodded.
Marigold burst into tears. North sprang forward, enfolding her in his arms. She was still sitting on top of the fence, and her kneecaps jammed into his ribs, but he only crushed her against his chest tighter. She was still crying. She was also laughing. “You are such an asshole,” she said against his neck.
“I’m sorry.” He was laughing, too. “I thought it would be obvious.”
“Well, it wasn’t!”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“I am, too.”
North pulled away to look her in the eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I needed you to come here. I did need you to rescue me.”