We were only supposed to be going away for the weekend. I remember telling my mother on the phone the last time we spoke.  It was Labor Day weekend and my boyfriend and I were going up to the mountains to relax.  We loaded up the car with all the items we needed for the perfect weekend, not forgetting a basket full of food for a picnic. 

The trip seemed longer than I remembered it ever being. The mountains were fifty miles away from our hometown, but it seemed more like 500 by the time we got halfway there.  The path was full of long winding roads that seemed to have no end in sight.  I would watch as we drove past each mile sign and the more we drove past the longer the miles seemed to drag on. 

After about an hour of driving, we finally made it to the road that turned off onto the hill that would drive us up the mountain.  It was not time for winter weather yet so the mountains were not topped with luscious white powder, but along the steep mountains hill there were spots that had ice from the nighttime chill that still had not melted in the day’s warmth. 

I told Marcus to be careful on the road, but being the macho man he had to do things his own way.  I would let out a nervous sigh every time he refused to slow down over the bumps and icy spots on the road.

“Haley, chill out,” he said, “I know what I am doing.”

“You better because there is not a hospital very close,” I replied.

“Babe, I got this….you’ll be fine,” he reassured me.

Marcus always was reckless in the car, driving over the speed limit, making sharp turns, not stopping at stop signs or lights, but he never once got into a wreck.

I looked out the window at all the scenery that we passed along the drive.  There was land, trees, and beautiful purple wildflowers. I’m a photographer, but forgot to bring my camera on this trip, and really wish that I had. 

“Sweetie, what are you doing?” Marcus asks.

“What does it look like,” I snarl, “I am painting my toenails.”