"I'm not sorry I stayed, Grandpa." A light drizzle whispered onto the windshield. "After Mom died, you were everything to me, and I'm glad I didn't miss a minute with you."
It was over. Not only the good times, and there were many, but the months of hospital visits and the painful goodbyes. It was time to go.
"Get the check, go to the bank, drop off the car, catch your flight, and take off," I told myself. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. I was almost to the end of the street. "You can do this. One step at a time. Get the check." The farmhouse disappeared, and I kept a hard look ahead.
* * * * *
"It’s different here." I shifted the phone from one hand to the other as I balanced on the thick log of driftwood. The West Coast smelled different—it practically tasted different. When I’d climbed out of my rental car to take a quick break, I hadn’t expected to become so enchanted with my first beach stop.
Anna laughed. "Let me guess. The light, the air, and maybe the ocean?"
"How'd you know?" I landed on the cold sand and wriggled my toes.
"Because I've known you since you thought pigtails were still an acceptable hairstyle. You know, there's a whole iconic city just over the hill behind you, right? Not to mention that big red bridge everyone's been talking about. Are you sure you’re doing okay?"
I smiled into a salty breeze. "Yeah, I'm all right. Better than all right."
I couldn’t wait to get down to Santa Cruz for her graduation, but in the meantime, I planned to enjoy my little road trip, all on my own. It had hurt to leave Owen behind, but I also felt like I’d set down a huge weight. Now I was ready to see new things—starting with this gorgeous ocean.
Ocean Beach was a wide stretch of sand that reached out to churning waves. Surfers dotted the white water in sleek, black wetsuits. The water was cold and the wind was stiff, but the sun was bright above me. Only the hardiest of tourists drove out of San Francisco's trendy neighborhoods and stretched their legs on the beach.
The day before, I had fought the traffic up and down the streets, stressed with completing an imaginary list of necessary sights. The Golden Gate Bridge was a blur, Lombard Street a mess of pedestrians, and Chinatown a confusion of crowded shop fronts. By the time I stood at Coit Tower and saw the open ocean, I could hardly breathe.
"I gotta say you sound a lot better," Anna said. "Even though you must be freezing. Please tell me you brought a sweater or jacket."
"Yeah, I know, San Francisco is not a warm tropical paradise; that's Southern California. I've got a sweater." I shaded my eyes and watched a surfer crash along the edge of a frothing wave. "Don't worry, I rented a car, and soon I'll be heading down Highway 1. I'll be there in time for your graduation on Monday."
Anna let out a tight breath. "Wait, what? I can't believe you're driving tonight."
It took me a second to speak—I was afraid I’d start crying if I did. "You remember?"
"Riley, I'm so sorry I wasn't there when he died. Of course, I know today's the anniversary," Anna said.
"You were at the funeral. Thank you for that." My throat felt too full of emotion at the thought of that day.
"God, it's been that long since we've seen each other? I’m so glad you’re here." Anna took a deep breath and changed to happier tones. "You finally made it to California! You need to find a hotel and celebrate tonight. Your grandfather would be so happy for you."
The cold ocean air snatched the tears off my cheeks. "Thanks, Anna."
"You got it all done, Riley. You settled his estate, you sold the farmhouse, and you kicked Owen to the curb. I wish I was there to toast you."
I shoved my sandy, frozen feet back into my shoes. "Poor Owen. I should have stayed and helped him pack."
"Are you shitting me? I'm sorry, Riley, but I’m not sorry at all. Owen was hot and he used to be our friend, but he turned into an asshole who just wanted to lie on the couch and make you do the work. Maybe now he'll realize what he's missing and that he should have worked a little harder." She stopped and swore again under her breath. "He's not calling you is he?"
"No, not calling," I said.
Anna caught me. "Texting. Delete them. Delete them all right now, Riley. Then find a hotel, something with a spa. Treat yourself tonight."
I laughed. "I'm walking to my rental car right now. See you Monday. Call you from the road."
* * * * *
Back on the highway, I braked as the line of traffic got caught in Pacifica. Luckily, the road went right by the beach so I could enjoy the scenery while I was stuck. The speed limit dropped, and I looked at a long line of hungry beach goers outside what turned out to be a taco shack. From the restaurant's deck, patrons had a perfect view of the surfers against the backdrop of impending fog.
For one, wild moment, I wished I was on a boat heading out to meet that fog. I would be enveloped, everything I knew would be obscured, and if I kept moving, somehow, I would come out of it. Then I’d burst through to sunlight on open skies and the whole of the Pacific Ocean before me.
A sign next to the taco stand proclaimed Pacifica as Fog City before the highway climbed back up the sharp cliffs and continued along the coast.
My phone beeped again.
"No, Owen, I don't care who's couch you’re crashing on," I said as I tossed the phone onto the back seat. Anna would be proud.
I stopped to put the top down on my rented convertible. The fresh air helped offset the dizzying effects of the drive, but I could see how some people might prefer the long straight stretch of the inland Interstate 5. Anna had suggested I-5, but I wanted the challenge and the beauty of the Coast Highway.
Between the cliffs and the water, it took me a long time to notice the beauty in between. Many of the sharp corners of the switchbacks were nestled in between pine trees. As I slowed the car to make the turns, I saw bright green ferns and mossy creek beds. Heading back toward the ocean, cypress trees bent away from the view, carved into stretching poses by the constant wind. Along bright sunny patches of highway stood tall golden grasses with waving plumes that reminded me of flowing horse tails.
The biggest surprise was the lack of civilization. Large swathes of the coast were nothing but untouched meadows and impossible to reach sandy beaches. Every now and then a faded barn would tip precariously in a field. Sometimes metal gates signaled a driveway, but most were overgrown with grass. Then I would come across an old pick-up truck or two parked in a turn-out with surfboards leaning against them. Locals chatted as they peeled off their wetsuits. I squinted past them and tried to spy their hidden surf spots, but they were always just out of view.
The wild coast, the swooping highway, and spying only the occasional other car was freeing until I felt a shudder in my car's engine. I glanced at the GPS and saw it was still recalibrating. The same way it had been for the last hour. The signal was lost, but I laughed —who could get lost on a highway with no exits?
No sooner had I thought that when a knocking sound started in the engine. I stared at the dashboard, waiting for the lights to begin flashing. Nothing. I had enough gas. “Shit, this is the last thing I need right now.”