“Oh, please,” she whispered. “Don’t cry. This is different. I promise.”
“You’re right,” Sadie said at long last, and her voice still wobbled. “This is different from what I had with Fred. And that’s why I’ve been so terrified. Because I think it might be more.”
Chapter 9
Anne hadn’t realized how massive Joshua Tree National Park actually was. Nearly an hour after they’d entered the park, they were still driving with no sign of civilization in sight.
The moon was up and blooming, the only source of illumination other than the car’s headlamps. It cast a muted light on the endless stretches of uninhabited alien land that unfolded out from the road, expanding for miles and miles. Tall shrubs, Joshua trees, and small bushes speckled the dirt as far as Anne could see, replicating all the way back into the black mountains. If there were other people or cars, the desert hid them.
They continued to drive, winding around curve after silent curve.
“Should I just keep going?” Anne asked finally. “Or stop somewhere?”
“Take the next scenic pullout,” Sadie told her. “This is the right place.”
“The right place for what?”
“Not entirely sure just yet,” Sadie said enigmatically. “We’ll see.”
It wasn’t exactly a confidence-boosting statement, but a sign up ahead did signal some vista they definitely couldn’t see in the dark. Anne obeyed Sadie’s request and pulled off the road into the designated stop.
The second the car was in park, Sadie unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, climbing out.
“Wait. Sadie, wait a minute—”
She was already gone. Anne watched with rising trepidation as Sadie dashed away from the road, kept visible by the lightfrom the car’s headlamps. The yellow skirt of her dress flapped behind her.
“Follow me,” Sadie called out, not bothering to turn her head. “Leave the car on so we’ve got some light. And watch out for cholla. The needles on those cactus bastards stick to you like leeches.”
Anne got out of the car, the engine still going, and left the driver door open. “Sadie, we’re a million miles from anywhere. It’s dark out. We haven’t seen a single person pass us on the road for at least fifteen minutes. And I’ve watchedThe English Patientenough times to know that running headlong into a massive desert isn’t a great idea.”
“Trust me!” Sadie shouted back. Then, “Ow!”
“Wonderful,” Anne muttered. She set off in pursuit.
By the time she caught up with Sadie, they were far enough from the car that she couldn’t hear the engine. The headlights barely reached them, giving just enough light to see their immediate surroundings.
Sadie stood still, looking up.
“Are you okay?” Anne asked.
“What? Oh, I’m fine. That ocotillo got the worst of it. Come over here with me.”
Anne obliged, and a wry comment about prickly things died in her mouth when Sadie grabbed her far shoulder with one hand and pulled her close. They stood side by side.
“Look up, beloved,” Sadie said softly.
Anne did. And gasped.
Thousands of stars glittered above them, pinpricks of sharp light that stood out against the deep basin of the endless night sky. Anne had never seen so many stars in her whole life.
Without any buildings to break it, the sky stretched on and on and on around them, a dark and lovely lid for the world. Somehow, it felt comforting to be so small at the base of all thisvastness. For a moment, the enormity of Anne’s unfolding life felt manageable.
“Earlier, I told you that I came here after Fred left,” Sadie murmured. “I didn’t tell you what I did when I was here. I knew you’d say it was silly. Or, at the very least, think it was.”
That was likely true, and Anne felt a sting of self-recrimination. “Tell me. I won’t be dismissive.”
“I spoke to the sky,” Sadie said simply. “To whatever great force is out there. Call it Hashem, call it the universe, call it a higher power; the name isn’t important. I spoke to her. I showed her my grief. It wasn’t too much for her.” She exhaled.