Chapter Forty-One

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I wake up in my hotel room the next morning feeling as though I could walk on air. Even though heavy curtains on the window keep the room dark, I glimpse sunlight peeking through the half-inch of space Mom left between the two panels when she closed them last night. It's time to rise and shine.

Mom is already awake and in the shower. I yawn and stretch my arms above my head, reveling in the dopamine burst from last night that still has me giddy now. Hunter is coming to the hotel to get me before lunchtime, and he didn't say what he has planned for the day. We could spend it a hundred feet from the hotel in Marina Park doing absolutely nothing for all it matters to me, just as long as we're together.

I sit up in bed and reach for my phone. It's only eight o'clock here, so I'm not expecting to see a message from Hunter yet. I did miss a call a couple of hours ago, though, and I don't recognize the phone number or have any guesses as to who would be awake and trying to reach me at that hour.

Whoever it was left a voice mail. It's probably one of those spam car warranty calls given the time the call came in, but I tap to play the message anyway.

Hey Cay, it's Bowie. I guess you blocked my number since texts and calls from my phone won't go through, so I'm calling you from another phone where I'm staying. I'm supposed to make amends with people I've hurt as part of my treatment program, so I'm calling to apologize. I said and did a few things to you under the influence that I shouldn't have, not that being under the influence excuses any of it. I'm sorry for any pain I've caused you, and any danger I might have put you in. I hope you're doing well.

I stare at my phone for a full thirty seconds after the message has finished, but it isn't because hearing Bowie's voice or his apology has affected me. I can't tell if he means it or if it's only a box for him to check off as part of his recovery program, and I realize I don't care either way. Holding anger or any other emotion toward Bowie means keeping a connection with him, and I'm not doing that. I've moved on.

The old me would have been compelled to acknowledge the message and respond with something about being grateful for the apology. Today I delete the voice mail and go on with my day. I hope he gets the help he needs and wish him well, but Bowie is part of my past and that's where he's staying. There's too much about my present to enjoy to give him another thought.

I put my phone down and swing my legs over to the side of the bed when a flash of color on the screen catches my attention. It's a text from Hunter.

Good morning, Cali. It's a beautiful day, and I can't wait to spend all of it with you. How do you feel about sneaking away from civilization for a while and heading out to the lake?

I felt like I could walk on air before, and now I'm filled with so much joy and light that I wonder if I'll simply float away. My grin gets bigger when I walk to the window and open the curtains to be greeted by a cloudless blue sky, brilliant sunshine, and a view of the Sleeping Giant in the distance.

It most definitely is a beautiful day.

* * *

Hunter picks me up from the hotel just after eleven, and it's noon when we turn off of the highway and onto East Loon Road. We're driving past the sign for the amethyst mine when the song on the radio ends and a DJ's voice comes through the car speakers with local news headlines.

"Cayden Indigo performed for a sellout crowd at the Thunder Bay Community Auditorium last night. It was the first performance for Indigo and her band since the tragedy that killed seventeen people at her Los Angeles concert several months ago. She debuted a new song called 'Impossible Star' at last night's show, which attendees say was likely written for Thunder Bay resident Hunter Gray, whom Indigo is rumored to be dating. There's no word yet from her record label on if she plans to record and release the song."

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