Life in the Rearview Mirror

He watched in his rearview mirror as the dusty sand swirled behind their SUV. The home they shared for the first five years of their marriage quickly faded as they drove away for the last time. Sneaking in as many glances as he could before it disappeared, taking in the last glimpses of their street. How many times had they traveled this road together? He drove along, reminiscing when they first walked through the house, before it was completely their own. How in love they had been, with each other too. Now, their house keys rested in the hands of the realtor. He sighed.

The sun was hot and bright, sending bursts of blinding light through the tropical trees. Reaching for the visor was tempting, but he didn’t want to miss a single view, in any direction, from any angle. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Brilliant blue without a speck of white. Punching off the AC, he rolled down the window, letting the warm breeze rush through his sun-kissed, blond hair. He closed his eyes behind his aviator sunglasses, only for a moment, to feel the wind on his face as if he were still at the beach. As a direct reflex, he wiggled his toes within his shoes, wishing there was sand between them. He sighed, again.

“Jake!” His wife yelled from the passenger seat.

He veered the SUV back into their lane. “Sorry, I had my eyes closed.” He didn’t have to look over to know she was glaring at him. He could feel her stare burning hotter than sun rays into the side of his face.

The oceanic byway connecting to the mainland stretched out before them. The slight incline brought more of the bright sky into view. Seagulls squawked overhead. With two fingers guiding the steering wheel, his arm rested on the sill of the door in the hot sun. The wind tossing their hair about. Soaking up as much as he could before the temperature would drop, the sun would cease to exist, and the clouds would block the blue sky forever. At least, that’s how he painted it in his mind. Northern Vermont, the brink of Canada.

The bridge was congested. Without letting his wife notice, he flashed his eyes around in all directions every chance he got. Taking it all in for the final time. As the vehicle descended down the other side, the island sunk out of sight in his mirrors. He looked out at the water, the gentle waves, one more time before gliding onto the mainland. The ocean was gone. He knew not when he’d see it again. 

While Jake let out another sigh, his wife took a deep breath, reinforced with elation. What he couldn’t understand was how she was unperturbed to leave this beautiful island. Their beach life, the salt life. Weekends spent in the sand and seasons in the sun. Kissing in the waves at sunset. Midnights whispering on the shore. Just them, and the ocean. Their balcony door would lay open while the ocean breeze rolled over them in their slumber. His chest tightened with emotion. If he glanced back in his rearview mirror now, there would be no sign left of what he was already missing.

Jake loved the heat. The hot sand. The hot sun. The sweat. The humidity. His tan skin turned bronze in the summer with a sheen of blond hair over his body. Emma could never understand what there was to love about being hot all year. Even though she grew up on the island, she never got used to it. Sure, beach life was wonderful, but the heat was not. The only break she got from the heat was from November through March. It wasn’t nearly long enough. Now, they were heading north, where three months a year would reach the upper 70’s. It would be cool or cold for most of the year. She could hardly wait. Each mile felt like a hundred. Every molecule in her body was swarming with excitement. Autumn, she would finally experience autumn! Winter and snow. They'd be arriving right at the beginning of the fall foliage. 

Emma reached over, placing her hand on his arm. “I know this is hard for you. I know how much you love the ocean. But we’ll be happy in Vermont. You’ll see. As long as we have each other, our home is wherever we are together.” Gently giving his firm forearm a squeeze, she offered an encouraging smile.

She was right. He flipped his hand over, palm up, and she entwined their fingers. Emma had an unfailing ability to see the positive side of anything they faced. With her, and God, there was nothing they couldn’t get through. Though this hurtle made his heart ache, she was with him. That was all that truly mattered. 

They took their time heading up north, turning the twenty-four hour drive into several days. There was no rush. Emma was anxious, of course. Nevertheless, they wanted to enjoy the journey. Jake had plans to stop along the coast, anywhere they could, to use up every last chance at a glimpse of the ocean before Vermont. 

He loved his job, but now he resented it for uprooting his feet from the sand and planting them in the mountains along the upper edges of the country. Landlocked. Except for maybe a lake. There would be no more pristine, white beaches. Just mucky waters littered with dead fish. At least, that’s how he painted it in his mind, again. 

He tilted his head, “You know what isn’t fair?” He said to his wife. “That two blonde beach babes had to move to Vermont.” He tittered.

Emma let out a huff of laughter. “Oh stop it,” she smiled, “you’ll be fine. You love your job, you’ll love it up there too. Now we’ll be blonde lake babes.” Laughing at herself, she snorted, making her laugh more. 

A smile crept across Jake’s face, he adored his wife. He snuck a peek at her, she was more beautiful than the ocean. What was he complaining about?

Once they entered into Vermont, their journey home would be three more hours. Neither of them were willing to stop until they reached their new house. They wanted their first steps in the state to be on their own property. As reluctant as he was, he couldn’t deny the nipping sensation of adventure.

Emma made the suggestion of stopping just before entering Vermont so she could change into a new autumn outfit. Thrilled she had been when shopping for her new wardrobe for the new seasons they’d experience here. 

The drive grew increasingly more beautiful. Even for Jake, it was hard not to notice. Nearly at every bend Emma would say, “Look how picturesque!” 

The repetitiveness of the statement grinded his gears. If she says ’picturesque’ one more time...he thought to himself as he clenched his teeth. 

The green leaves slowly faded the more north they drove. Emma’s face was nearly glued to her window, mouth gaping, as they wound through the hills and passed through mountains. “Look, Jake! Look how beautiful that tree is!” She shouted as she pointed to a tree which turned to shades of golds and reds, earlier than the rest. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

He chuckled to himself and looked at her, her face pressed against the glass. “Yes.” He said as the corner of his mouth tipped up. She was.

They rode in silence once they turned on to their new street. For several moments they both stopped breathing as the numbers on the mailboxes grew closer and closer to theirs. Emma gasped when their home came into view. Placing her hand against her chest, “Oh, Jake, just look at it.” 

He marveled in her excitement before turning his gaze to their homestead. He sucked in a breath. It was beautiful. A white, colonial home towered over him, with blue shutters and a white picket fence lining the yard. Much more stately than in pictures and videos they'd seen of it. It was the kind of house and yard people imagine when they hear the words American Dream.

Shoving the door open, her boots hovered over the freshly fallen leaves on the driveway as she slowly slid off the seat. She heard the crunch of the leaves under her feet for the first time. Closing her eyes, she took in the moment.

Jake watched her from his driver’s seat, cherishing her child-like innocence. Letting out a puff of air, he opened his door and stepped out. Surprisingly, the leaves had a satisfying crunch. The slamming of the door was the only sound. It was so quiet. The air was different. Thicker. Richer. On the wisp of the back end of a breeze, there was no scent of sunscreen, tanning oil, or lemonade, but of leaves, pine, and earth. 

He filled his lungs and closed his eyes. There were no crashing waves, or lapping of water. No voices of mindless chatter. No seagulls screeching. He turned in the direction of fluttering wings. A bird he didn’t recognize flew away, probably secretly mocking the newcomers.

Looking down his light-colored, ripped at the knee jeans, to his canvas boat shoes, he kicked an acorn across the driveway. Then noticing the sticks, twigs, leaves and other natural debris that littered the driveway and yard. His shoulders slumped. He’d have an actual yard to maintain now. 

They walked the red brick walkway leading to the front door. He slid the key in, pushed the door open, and gestured for his wife to enter first. But she didn’t, she gave him a blank stare.

“Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?” She asked.

He opened his mouth to protest, and thought better of it. Just because he was miserable, doesn’t mean he had to drag her down too. Scooping her off her feet, he carried her in. A smile couldn’t help but fill his face. She would always be his bride.

As Jake unpacked his suitcase in their bedroom, his eyebrows flickered. “Hey, Emm?”

She stepped out of their master bathroom. “Hmm?”

He raised his hands, a fistful of plaid shirts in each grip. “Where did my regular shirts go?”

“Your regular shirts are beach shirts, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb out here. I packed them away and replaced them with attire you will actually need.”

“But I’m going to look like a lumberjack.” He whined.

“We’re not beach bums anymore.” She said with a smirk.

Over the next several weeks, they unloaded, unpacked, and unboxed their belongings. Slowly and surely, their house turned into a home. Emma picked the paint, he picked the supplies. She hummed and buzzed around the house. Her happy spirit and her outlook on life began to trickle into him as well. One afternoon she overheard Jake whistling, an expression of happiness. It had been months since she last heard his pleasant tunes.

Every morning there was a chill in the house. Even the chill felt different. Not the kind of chill from an AC unit, but one that came with the changing of the leaves. The kind of chill that made a spouse want to curl up with their loved one under the blankets. Jake scooted over, and Emma, sleepily and instinctively, nestled into him. He liked this newfound chill.

Never had either of them ever had a fireplace in their house. Keeping up with chopping firewood was a thought Jake dreaded. Much to his surprise, little by little he enjoyed the task. The days he didn’t work, he lumbered out to the backyard to do his lumberjacking. The misty mornings brought a sense of calm and tranquility. Much like the crashing of the waves once did. Out here he was in the wilderness, not on a crowded beach. The silence from the hills engulfed him. It was the sound of silence he was beginning to appreciate. Comfort in the quiet.

With each swing of the axe, and the cracking of the wood, he felt more manly. Two slices of wood flew to each side, he swiped his beading forehead with the back of his hand. He felt something staring at him. Probably some wild beast ready to pounce and sink its teeth into him. He looked around. No beast. A figure on the porch caught his attention, and he turned sharply. His wife was leaning against the wooden rail of the porch. With that look in her eyes, she looked ready to pounce.

“Why are you smiling?” He asked, wondering how long she’d been watching him.

Emma took a sip from the warm mug between her hands before answering. “I knew those handsome beach muscles weren’t just for show.” 

Rolling his eyes, he dismissed her comment, and continued chopping.

She took the opportunity to take in her fill of her husband. His black v-neck hugged his body. His broad shoulders tapered into a trim waist. With every swing of the axe, the short sleeves snugged around his biceps. And those jeans. They hugged his thighs during his axing stance. 

“Let's explore something other than the town today. I heard about a hiking trail.”

Hiking? He thought to himself. “Do we have to?”

She arched an eyebrow.

He huffed. “You’re right. Let’s explore.” 

The trail winding through the forest was beautiful. The cliffs. The rock formations. The autumn colors. The leaves covering the pathway. All of it. Whether he liked it or not, Vermont was growing on him. The thought perplexed him. He couldn’t stop it, and could no longer deny it. This was his life now. 

They rounded a horseshoe bend in the side of the mountain. A wall of rocks and ledges jutted up out of the ground along to their right. And on their left, was a long way down. Jake leaned over, and gulped. 

They came across no other hikers. Jake felt oddly alone. Did everyone else know something they didn’t? What if they got lost? What if they got attacked and eaten by a bear? Emma’s perky voice pulled him from his unsettling fears. 

“Autumn has the most gorgeous colors I have ever seen!” She turned to him, her face written with pure joy. “These colors didn’t exist where we came from. Look what we’ve been missing.” She said, looking up at the trees growing out from the rocks towering over them.

It was nearly impossible for Jake not to appreciate what she adored. Her enthusiasm reached the depths of his being. Ever since they received the news his job was relocating him, her zing for life made up for his dispirited moods. His current entertainment came from watching her discover her autumn soul.

A rumble of thunder stopped them dead in their tracks. No wonder there were no other hikers, all must have known there was a storm brewing. How foolish of him not to think to check the weather before venturing out. He put Emma at risk because of his carelessness.

Emma turned to him, as the thunder trembled the ground beneath their feet. A worried look replaced the jovial smile. “We’re in the middle of a mountain, what are we going to do?” No sooner did she finish her question when the rush of rain could be heard sweeping through the trees. They whipped their heads around in the direction of the sound to see the rain coming for them. Jake grabbed her hand and began running the way they just came. Did he really think they’d outrun the rain? 

Seconds later the cold rain hit their backs. Darting under the nearest rock ledge, he and Emma attempted cover. For a moment, Jake was in awe of the sight unfolding in front of him, the rain pouring from the clouds through the center of the horseshoe bend. He saw through the rain as if he were behind glass. Watching the rain plummet through the gorge.

The moment of awe ended when the rain water began to spill over the rock ledge, splashing fresh mud on their new hiking boots and trickling water from the rocks soaked their heads and shirts. Staying dry was out of the question.

Something let loose in Jake that changed him. He relinquished. His life came to fruition. All that he’d been trying to deny erupted through the surface. How could anyone not love a life such as this? A life of change, as with the seasons, he would now come to enjoy. With every season comes change and acceptance of the inevitable. So gone was his life of predictability. Eager to look ahead. Eager for the next mountain to climb. Rain water rushes forward, and never looks back.

His sudden outburst of laughter startled Emma. She stared questionably as he laughed harder.

Pushing himself off of the rock wall, he stepped out into the pouring rain, threw his hands out to his sides, palms up, and tilted his head back. Smiling, he let the cold rain soak through to his soul. Everything was out of his control. He was at peace with his new life.

Emma remained under the rock, baffled. “Have you gone mad?” She shouted over the rain.

“No, just the opposite.” He looked at her. “Come here.” He tugged her wrist, pulling her into the rain with him. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her with all the passion he’d been lacking. 

Emma melted. Nothing existed but them, the rain, the mountain, and God. She pulled from his lips. “What’s gotten into you?” She asked as she fingered his hair dripping with mountain rain water. 

“All of this has gotten into me. This is the great outdoors. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Her eyes widened. “Even the beach?”

“Even the beach.”

A life looking forward, instead of wanting the reflection in the rearview mirror.