Vantage Point
“You ready?” Seth said, buttoning his dark flannel shirt on a brisk March morning.
“All packed,” Ellen said through vaporized breath.
She slammed the trunk on her waxed black Jeep
and clapped the dust off her hands.
“And you’re sure you got everything?”
“Don’t even start,” Ellen said, waving her finger at him. She zipped her light coat to her chin. A light breeze pulled her ponytail eastbound.
Seth lifted his palms. “It’s not like I said you were stupid or anything.” He smiled.
“What am I going to do with you?” Ellen rolled her eyes. “Get in the Jeep.”
“Give me the keys,” Seth said, snatching them from her hand.
Ellen arched a brow. “You sure you want to drive?” She tilted her head.
“Other side,” Seth said. “Now.”
“It’s just that freeways aren’t your thing,” Ellen said. “Never have been.”
Seth motioned with his eyes to the passenger seat.
Okay, Ellen mouthed, climbing over the center console.
“Seatbelt,” Seth said like a father would prompt his child.
“Right,” Ellen said with a hint of sarcasm, reaching across her chest to click the belt into the buckle. “Seatbelt.”
“Ready?” Seth said.
“Would you stop it already?” Ellen stretched her back, removed her shoes, and kicked her bare feet on the tan dashboard.
Seth exited her long gravel driveway and turned onto the highway.
The road hugged the land, and they took each turn in an easy stride.
The sky turned a brilliant shade of orange, the clouds were painted with hues of pink and purple, and the highway was bathed in a golden glow. The cars on the road seemed to move in slow motion as if they were savoring the moment’s beauty.
“You know what’s funny?” Ellen said, playing with her silver necklace.
“What?” Seth glanced over and then returned his eyes to the road.
“I passed this area hundreds of times, but I never stopped to study the beauty of the hills, evergreen trees, and Mount Adams.” She leaned forward and pointed in its general direction.
“There’s a lot that you haven’t stopped to think about,” Seth said.
Ellen crinkled her green eyes and wrinkled her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My grandfather used to have a small plane.”
Ellen laughed and slapped her thigh. “Wouldn’t it be nice to go anywhere at any time?”
“Can you imagine?” Seth said.
“No, but I’d like to.” Ellen sighed.
Seth blinkered, glanced over his shoulder, and merged onto the freeway.
“If you need me to drive…”
“Really?” Seth said, clenching the steering wheel.
“Good thing I have life insurance,” Ellen said.
“Would you stop it?” Seth said, trying to keep a straight face.
Ellen lit a cigarette and took a long drag. She cracked the window, and the smoke filtered out.
“Thought you quit?” Seth said.
“I smoke when I’m stressed, okay?” Ellen reached for the stereo and played classic R&B. It scrolled the song titles and artists in red. Immature’s Never Lie pushed through the speakers. They’d danced to the song at the senior prom.
Seth lowered the volume. “Then relax.”
“Why’d you leave for college in Alabama?”
“Here we go again,” Seth said.
“No, I’m serious,” Ellen said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Seth swallowed hard. “Yeah, sure, friends.”
“Just friends,” Ellen said, wanting to hear the same from Seth.
“Was I supposed to stay home?” Ellen said.
“Where’s all this coming from?” Seth continued along the curves, maneuvering potholes.
“That exit,” Ellen said, nudging Seth with her arm and pointing with her other hand.
“The Vantage View?” Seth did a double-take.
“Trust me,” Ellen said. “For once, trust me.”
“I do trust you,” Seth said.
Seth glanced over his shoulder and veered to the tourist site. People put their quarters in a machine to canvass snow-frosted mountains.
“So close,” Seth said.
“But so far away,” Ellen said with a lump in her throat.
“You…” Seth twisted in her direction.
Tears spread across her face. “You were so far away.” Ellen hugged herself. “But so close in my heart.”
“Are you okay?” Seth said.
“Oh, come on, you big dummy,” Ellen said. “It’s Margo.”
Seth’s eyes bulged. “How’d you know about Margo?”
“Because we both know that I’m Margo.” Ellen put her hands over her heart. “In middle school, you told me I looked like a Margo.”
“The night before you left for college,” Ellen said. “It must have fallen out of your backpack.”
Seth scratched the top of his head. “Wow…”
“I have to say,” Ellen said. “I learned a lot about myself from reading your thoughts.”
“So, you could be right.” Seth scratched the back of his neck.
“I’m Margo, aren’t I?” Ellen gave him an unbreakable eye contact.
Seth’s pale cheeks turned red. “Yes,” he said in a soft tone.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Ellen gestured.
“That was five years ago,” Seth said as if to brush off the past.
Ellen crinkled her eyes and waved her finger. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend that you don’t love me.”
“I…”
“Go on,” Ellen said, motioning with her finger.
“Your family was rich,” Seth said. “We weren’t.”
“And that’s why you didn’t tell me that you loved me?” Ellen said. “Because of money?”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds nefarious.”
Ellen chuckled and closed the distance between them. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“I’ll say it first,” Ellen said as tears trailed her cheeks, dripping off her chin to splash her coat. “I love you, Seth. I always have.”
Seth’s heart thumped in his chest. “I thought this moment would never come,” Seth said. “I thought it was a dream.”
“A dream come true,” Ellen said, throwing her arms around his neck as they shared a long kiss.
(© 2024 AC)
