Chapter 27

Saturday, August 10, 2019
Fairfax, Maryland

“Thank you so much, Colt, for that surprise trip to the spa earlier. Pampering at its finest! I can’t speak for Lindsay, but for me, it was so nice to get a massage, you know, to relax my muscles from shopping so hard.”

Colt shot Pamela a glare, a thin, almost unnoticeable hint of a smile appearing on his lips. “You and Lindsay cleaned out the lingerie store earlier. It was brutal.”

“It wasn’t brutal, it was fun!” Delight sparkled in Pamela’s eyes. “The clerk there appreciated us since she worked on commission. Girls like Lindsay and I need to be spoiled rotten.”

His thumb brushed against the inside of her palm. “You deserve everything you get, angel.” He pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “So precious.”

“What do you want, sweetie?” Pamela swept long hair away from her face as she turned and regarded Lindsay. Along with Colt, they stepped forward in line. “I’m buying.”

“You’re not buying, I’m buying. It’s my turn.” Lindsay glanced up, her expression dancing with friendliness. “Hi there. I’ll take a Teavana London Fog Tea Latte. Large size, with extra spiced apple drizzle and cinnamon powder. Oh, and whipped cream on top.” She squeezed Pamela’s wrist. “I’m buying this time.”

Pamela’s eyes met Lindsay’s, a hint of competitive challenge in them before focusing on the young lady behind the counter. “Afternoon, hi, how are you? I’ll take an Almond Milk Honey Flat Light Venti.”

“Anything for you, sir?” the barista asked.

“Nah, I’m cool, thank you.” Colt raised his hands. “Never been much of a coffee drinker.”

“And what are the names for the orders?”

“Dakota for hers,” Lindsay said, “and Kayleigh for mine.”

Pamela perked up, her mouth ajar.

“Please step over to the register and pay.”

“No one has called me Dakota in over a decade,” Pamela said to Lindsay as they waited for their drinks to be fulfilled. “Not since Colt’s dad ran the house. How did you know about that name? Who told you?”

“You told me!” The words sprang from Lindsay’s mouth. “My first day on the job, you told me.”

“Don’t you love this girl’s style?” Pamela later asked Colt, slipping an arm around Lindsay’s shoulder and snuggling close. “She was killin’ it at Venus Unveiled earlier. Lindsay has like, this unique style where she makes like, the most mini like sexy but cute outfits look the sluttiest ... but not quite.” Laughter erupted from Pamela.

“Huh?” Colt grunted.

Lindsay suppressed a smile. “Pamela is the perfect person to help me out with that, isn’t she?”

The budding triad boarded a nonstop flight in Las Vegas and landed in Arlington, Virginia last evening at nine o’clock. It was a miserable experience, being forced to wait on the runway at McCarren International Airport for seventy-five minutes due to a mechanical issue with the plane. Everything was all right now, though, being in Fairfax, Maryland – Pamela and Colt’s hometown – and looking forward to a fun-filled weekend before it was back to Nevada and the professional grind on Monday.

From sightseeing to museums to sports, there was plenty to keep the trio entertained. This morning, for example, they toured Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, the heartbeat of the city, and so closely connected to the aquarium, science center, and plenty of restaurants and shopping (including the lingerie boutique). On the waterfront, four military vessels, most notably the USS Constellation, welcomed visitors with tours, events, and hands-on exhibits to let one experience what life was like at sea in the Civil War era.

Fort McHenry played a major role in the War of 1812 when it was used to successfully defend Baltimore Harbor against the British navy. During the battle, an American flag was flown over the fort as the bombardment reached its apex. The sight of the flag inspired Francis Scott Key to write a poem he entitled Defence of Fort M’Henry, which would later be renamed The Star-Spangled Banner, set to music, and adopted as the USA’s national anthem.

Wide-eyed and full of wonder, Lindsay was fascinated as she took everything in, having never visited anywhere east of Montana. Maryland is awesome! Most surprising was Pamela and Colt’s farmhouse-style residence situated on four acres of a botanical paradise featuring mature white oak and red maple trees, lush wildflower vegetation such as azaleas and milkweeds, and arrowwood shrubbery.

Though Lindsay had never been in a house more beautiful and knew it had to cost an absolute fortune, she felt at ease in it. This blows the old digs in Citronelle away. In Sammy’s mansion in Salt Lake City, and the penthouse they later moved into, Lindsay felt out of place, afraid she’d bump into something and break a “priceless item” on a desktop or shelf.

Pamela and Colt were the consummate hosts, making certain she was comfortable following their cross-country trip. I do have a complaint though. Poor Lindsay was relegated to the guest bedroom last evening. When is Colt finally going to give me what I want? What I need? It was frustrating, but Pamela kept preaching patience, insisting Colt would come around sooner rather than later. I hope they don’t mind I played with my vibrator last night in their bed. Not only couldn’t she help herself, but Lindsay made a mess too. I should run the bed sheets through the washer before they find out. Her brow furrowed as she sipped her coffee, zeroing in on Colt and his rugged, handsome visage. Oh, how she wished she could press her cheek to that broad, magnificent chest and listen to his kind heartbeat underneath all those layers of muscle. Sweet Jesus!

Upon leaving Starbucks, Lindsay pulled open the door before Colt could reach for it. He went to hold it for her, but she’d already walked through. His throat thickened as he squinted at her.

“Don’t worry, chivalry isn’t dead yet.” Pamela spoke in a subdued tone and smirked as she slipped past him.

“This area is so cute. It’s so green. I love it.” Lindsay closed her eyes, spread her arms, and inhaled all the air she could. “So different than what I’m used to back in Nevada and California, and Utah.” She smiled at an elderly man as he struggled to get by. “Hi there, sir. How are you? Do you need any help with your cane?”

Priding himself on being a proper gentleman, the way Lindsay opened the door and bristled through it threw Colt off his game, though it shouldn’t have. Had she allowed him to open a single door or pull out a chair for her yet since leaving Flagstone? She’d never been with a man who truly wanted to be put her first, he thought, and take care of her. Sure, it took some time (and lots of cajoling from Pamela), but Colt viewed Lindsay as a likable gal nowadays, polite, affable, and irresistible. She was a lady and deserved to be treated as one.

“Tell me about this hiking trail we’re going to tomorrow afternoon. You know how I love to hike.”

“Cascade Falls Trail down in Elliot City,” Pamela said to Lindsay. “You and Colt will have a wonderful time. It’s not long, but the scenery is breathtaking, and I’ve always loved the little waterfall halfway through. We used to have picnics there when I was a kid.”

“I wish you’d come along with us.” Lindsay blew out a sigh, her shoulders sagging. “It sucks that you’re not.”

“I can’t.” Pamela swallowed hard and blinked several times. “Trust me, I’d love to go. But I promised my mom, my dad, and my sisters I’d spend the day with them. This is such a short, quick trip home for us, only two full days because we visited Palm Springs first. Usually, Colt and I spend our entire week away from work, our vacation, here in Maryland.” As activity buzzed all around them on the sidewalk, Pamela brushed her knuckles down the side of Lindsay’s face. “Baby, I can’t come home and not spend any time with my family. That wouldn’t be right.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” On the bright side, how often did Lindsay get to have one-on-one time with Colt? Would tomorrow’s hike provide some fireworks? Or at least further their mutual attraction? What I want is for us to fuck and get it over with. The only other time Lindsay recalled being alone with Colt was when he escorted her to the Sulaco County Sheriff’s Department last month to obtain a work permit. But that was only a half-hour. I guess we stopped at the convenience store too. “Does your family know about your ... sexual preferences?”

“Oh, my family knows I’m bisexual.” Pamela’s golden hair streamed out behind her, carried by the wind. “There’s no doubt. I’ve never told them, but trust me, they know.”

“How are you so sure?”

“They know about the brothel and Mom made an account on the website and registered for the bulletin board. I know how she is – I’ll bet anything she snoops and reads what everyone says about me, reads all the reviews, and that I’m Queen Heaux, Queen of the Threesome.” Pamela inhaled the sweet aroma of flavored coffee from the plastic cup. “I have no doubt they know.” Breath stirred her hair. “I could be embarrassed by it, but I’m not. It is what it is. I knew what the ramifications would be when I came clean and told them about the brothel. Paula, my older sister, she’s not cool about it, but everyone else is, even my dad.”

“And you don’t think they’ll be suspicious of Colt not being with you tomorrow? Not being there for the day out, the family outing? He’ll be with me – another woman – not you.”

Pamela offered a dismissive wave. “No, no way. Why would they? Colt may be a transplant here, but they know he has friends in town, too, and I told them he’s got things to do elsewhere. No harm, no foul, no suspicions.”

“I’m hoping you tell your family about me in the future, as well, and I get to meet them.” Lindsay bit her lower lip to keep from grinning like a kid going to Disneyland. “I ... I’d like that. For them to ... accept me.” She had visions of not only being married to Pamela one day, but also Colt. I want to have that man’s babies and for Pamela to have equal say in raising them. Didn’t Lindsay deserve ultimate happiness, too, after all the horrible things that happened to her? It’s been a troublesome year, that’s for sure.

“I’d like that, too, honey. I have faith that, in time, they’ll accept you.” Pamela settled her hand on the curve of Lindsay’s back as they strolled side-by-side. “My parents, especially, they’ve chilled out over the years.”

I wish my parents would chill out and be more accepting of me too. When Lindsay left Evie’s final resting place less than forty-eight hours ago, the tombstone and its surrounding area popped with vibrant colors thanks to her special touch. She decorated it with an assortment of flower arrangements, put up a pair of sun-catchers, wind chimes, and a lavish wreath. Lindsay also left a memorial rock at the base of the marker with an engraved inscription:

If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, I’d walk right up to Heaven and bring you home again.

Though she was in Citronelle that evening, and mere miles from her family home, Lindsay insisted on ditching town after the cemetery visit. Mom, Dad, my sisters? No one wants anything to do with me there. She considered herself an outcast, vilified by family and friends once close to her, and the sole reason Evie committed suicide. I shouldn’t have pestered her as hard as I did about taking a job at the brothel.

I should’ve backed off...

Would Lindsay ever be welcome back into her religious and God-fearing family? I disgraced the Anastacio name and legacy by spreading my legs and becoming a whore. Thanks to all the media attention from Evie’s suicide, the entire town knew what job Lindsay had, and where to find her. It’s so humiliating! How long would it be before someone she knew – even if it was an acquaintance – came looking for a GFE? Lindsay had been half-expecting Big Dick – her creepy neighbor while growing up – to pop in unannounced and surprise her one day with a fistful of cash. That old man would give anything to fuck me.

Regarding her family, though, she had to face facts. It is what it is. Easier said than done, but Lindsay was trying her damnedest to adopt Pamela’s philosophy and push forward. I must accept that everyone hates me now and move on. Alison said I’m the worst sister ever and that I’ll forever burn in Hell. Birthdays and Christmastime would be rough. It is what it is. Move on, forge ahead.

Who needed those people anyway? You keep trying to tell yourself that, chicka. Coldness crept up Lindsay’s backbone, fluttering like a breeze through her sundress. Maybe one day, you’ll believe it ... or not.

Didn’t she want to bust free from Citronelle? That was her primary reason for taking a job at the brothel in the first place, right? I promised myself long ago that if I ever escaped that wretched hellhole, I’d never look back. Dread slithered through and blanketed her veins. Well, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Too many mixed emotions swirled within her chest. You’re free, you’re an adult now, and you’re away from Citrosmell. You’re making mad cheddar, too, and could survive on your own if need be.

But look at what it cost you.

“Is everything okay, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh, I’m thinking about my family.” On the exterior Lindsay appeared vulnerable, fragile, with moist eyes and a trembling lower lip, but behind the tears Pamela saw fierce determination. “I miss them.”

“Hey, I’ve got you. Shh.” Pamela stopped mid-stride and whispered against Lindsay’s cheek. “You’re okay. I know you miss them. Breathe, baby. Just breathe. You don’t have to do anything else. There, there, I’ve got you.”

Lindsay focused on Pamela’s assurance and exhaled. Oblivious to any onlookers, she wilted against her. Pamela was warm and supple, safe, and loving. So loving. Lindsay closed her eyes and tuned out everything except her calming heartbeat. God, I love you, Pamela. She’d never felt so safe in someone’s arms. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me...

----

Attending a major league baseball game at Oriole Park at Camden Yards in the Ridgely’s Delight neighborhood of Baltimore was quite enjoyable for Colt as a sports fan and even more therapeutic as a human being. On a muggy summer afternoon or a crisp autumn evening, nothing could compare to the sights and sounds of a professional baseball game and the countless spectacles one had to offer.

The grass, fresh cut and a verdant green. The dirt, soft, silky, and perfectly manicured. The vendors going up and down the aisles with their unique and loud, boisterous personalities, wanting you to purchase a snack or a cold beverage. The unmistakable, delicious scent of overpriced hot dogs and peanuts wafting through the air, permeating your senses. Seeing the star athletes that you invest your time and enthusiasm in as a fan, stretching and taking batting practice, and the anticipation reaching a crescendo as the game begins and they get down to business.

Hearing the pop of a screaming fastball hitting the catcher’s glove. The timeless crack of a bat and watching in full speed as the baserunner stretches a double into a triple. The energy of the crowd. Umpire, no! Bad call! He was safe! Fans yelling chants and taunts toward the opposite team, while their own supporters give it right back.

And then, of course, there is one truly magical moment that can make the memory of any baseball game on a random August evening last for a lifetime – catching your first foul ball.

Colt had been a baseball fan for as long as he could remember, but growing up in Flagstone, there were no major league teams for 450 miles. He chose the Los Angeles Dodgers as his favorite squad and was overjoyed when his father scored a pair of tickets to Game One of the 1988 World Series. There, he witnessed Kirk Gibson hit one of the most dramatic home runs in the sport’s history.

Though out of their way, William made a habit of taking Colt to a few major league contests each year, whether in Los Angeles, Anaheim, or San Diego. But the venue they attended most was Cashman Field in North Las Vegas, once home to the Las Vegas Stars, the class AAA minor league affiliate of the San Diego Padres.

When Colt turned eighteen and could afford to travel and do things on his own, he expanded his reach, attending MLB games in San Francisco, Oakland, Seattle, Denver, Kansas City, and New York, among other places. Once meeting Pamela, however, and travelling with her on countless trips to Maryland (and eventually moving here), Colt adopted the Baltimore Orioles as his official team.

Built in 1992 with its modern yet retro vibe, Camden Yards was the best professional sports stadium Colt had ever been in. It still looked brand new; it was open, inviting, sparkling, easy to get around in and, despite the team being a cellar dweller in the current win/loss standings, a cheerful atmosphere prevailed. Parking was a breeze and the concessions were appetizing.

“He was out!” Lindsay yelled toward an umpire when a call didn’t go the Orioles’ way. Colt glanced sideways as Lindsay sprung out of her seat behind the first base dugout as if she were on a pogo stick, her blonde ponytail flailing in the wind, and cupped both hands to her mouth. “Boo! Booooo! You need new glasses, ump!” An instant later, she plopped back into her seat and turned toward Colt with a happy, vibrant laugh, full of energy.

All part of going to the game.

How lucky was Colt? Though the Orioles got bulldozed by the Houston Astros on Saturday night by a score of 23-2, Lindsay was nestled to his right the whole time, sipping mineral water and eating popcorn. She had on a saucy, little white halter-top and a tiny pair of orange mesh shorts with a drawstring in front and the Orioles’ team logo brandished on her left hip. The shorts flattered Lindsay and were quite a distraction in the summer heat.

Colt gawked at those bare legs for four hours.

Even better, Pamela was to his left, dressed in a form-fitting orange tank-top with a blue sports bra visible underneath and a pair of black spandex shorts. Pamela bounced and giggled from first pitch to final out, and despite wearing earmuffs to combat excess noise, was a nonstop chatterbox, and tossed Colt an endless array of kisses at the most random times. Pleasurable, yes, and much appreciated, but Colt’s primary focus – and a sudden, undeniable desire – was shifting elsewhere.

Being here tonight, right here, right now – this is the first time I’ve felt Lindsay is legitimately part of us, like she belongs in our lives. His neck vibrated as he snuck another peek at an unblemished thigh. Fuck, she’s hot.

Perhaps a baseball game wouldn’t be the first place one would foresee Lindsay and Pamela spending their Saturday evening, but Lindsay jumped at the possibility of attending when they were brainstorming ideas earlier. She’d been a casual observer of the sport her entire life thanks to her father, a dyed-in-the-wool Dodgers fan, but had never been to an actual game. Pamela didn’t care for baseball – she was more of a football and basketball fan – but loved going to the ballpark regardless. No matter the outcome, a trip to Camden Yards was a social event – an experience – and a chance to wear a cute and sexy outfit, drink copious amounts of Duckpin Pale Ale, and mingle amid the masses.

Early in the contest, Pamela made a face and smacked Colt’s shoulder. “You’re being disrespectful.”

“What? I’m not being disrespectful.” He glanced at the seat in front of him, or more specifically, the mound of peanut shells collecting on the ground close to someone else’s feet. “I’m making a mess, but this is what you do at baseball games. You eat peanuts and enjoy them.”

Lindsay laughed. “You’ve had a lot of peanuts.”

He focused on her. “I like peanuts at the game and you throw them on the ground. It’s what you do.”

“Kind of messed up, but...” Lindsay motioned toward the aisleway littered with beer and soda cups, hot dog and nacho carriers, wax paper and yes, peanut shells, “ ... this is disgusting. Look, it goes all the way down.”

“Neanderthals.” Pamela shivered theatrically. “I feel terrible for the workers who have to clean this up.”

“They should give you a bag when you buy food here,” Lindsay said to Colt, “so you can put your garbage in it.”

“That wouldn’t be any fun, though.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “This is fun to you?”

“Yeah. It’s fun to throw ‘em on the ground.”

“This is a million times worse than a movie theater. God, people are disgusting.”

“Don’t mind Colt.” Pamela said to Lindsay. “He’s the King of the Neanderthals and has no hope.”

Colt stood and stretched his back. “I’m gonna go buy another Pepsi and a slice of pizza, I think. Either of you want anything?”

Pamela held up her own beverage. “Yes. More alcohol, please. I’m letting my hair down tonight.”

“Get me some too.”

“No.” Colt’s eyes narrowed as he gazed Lindsay’s way. “Not in public; you’re not of legal drinking age.”

Her brows tightened together.

“Get her a hot dog ... a foot longer. I’m sure she’d love that.” Pamela brimmed with sudden laughter. “No, no, get her a corn dog instead!”

Lindsay first shot Pamela a lethal glare, then did the same for Colt. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

This whole “triad” thing seemed like a silly thought, a fleeting fantasy, and a recipe for disaster for an eleven-year marriage which had experienced its fair share of turbulence in recent times. At first, Colt had his reservations, but in the past several weeks he had witnessed a transformation in Pamela. She awoke feeling happier each day and often spoke about her desire to have Lindsay in their bed every night going forward and waking up beside her every morning. Pamela claimed Lindsay had stolen her heart – turned her life upside down – and could do the same for Colt. “Hey, I know it’s unconventional, and not what you’ve envisioned all these years of wanting to be a father, but perhaps you could be Lindsay’s new Daddy Dom. You know how much she craves that sort of guidance, that structure, that discipline.”

Colt had to admit with each baby step they’d taken as a trio thus far, everything felt so natural, so right. The toughest challenge was coming to grips with the fact that Pamela’s feelings for Lindsay weren’t a threat to him or their marriage, but rather, a blessing. Once released from those chains of insecurity, Colt concluded that because Pamela was so in love with Lindsay, it strengthened and supported his own marriage with her.

What did it matter that this concept was so wild, so out of left field? How could Colt have two wives? His own wife have a wife of her own? Unconventional? You bet. But all he knew was that Pamela loved Lindsay. And Lindsay loved Pamela. And since these two ladies were welcoming him with open arms, well, this crazy idea just seemed right, and made a lot of sense.

I own and operate a brothel. Unconventional is my middle name. At the concession stand, Colt glanced heavenward for answers. What do you think, Dad? If nothing else, perhaps accepting Lindsay into his and Pamela’s lives would repair the fractures their marriage had endured over the past year. Pamela has been on edge a lot lately, no doubt, but having Lindsay with us full-time would calm her, help her mellow out.

Happy wife, happy life.

Besides, Colt knew he had no choice. Pamela is not going to accept “no” for an answer this time.

As the bottom of the seventh inning got underway with the Orioles trailing 20-1, Colt, Pamela, and Lindsay had been getting teased by foul balls all evening as they landed in their vicinity. Colt had never snagged one during the one hundred or so games he’d gone to either here or at other various ballparks. Catching a foul ball, at least to him, was akin to discovering the holy grail.

A myth.

But then Rio Ruiz of the Orioles came to the plate and took a massive swing on the second pitch from Houston’s Joe Smith.

At first, the ball didn’t appear like it would reach the stands. It was catapulted high into the dark, nighttime sky as if it had been shot out of a cannon. It drifted closer, and Colt’s eyes turned mammoth as almost everyone around them rose to their feet with anticipation.

Colt reached high with his right arm into the sea of hands. A momentary scrum ensued, and soon something smacked his open palm with great velocity. His fingers clenched and, before he knew it, Colt had a little piece of baseball history – Orioles history – in his grasp.

He became a ten-year-old again for a few seconds as he stared at the worn piece of rawhide. Did I catch the damn thing barehanded? Fuck, his hand hurt. And his heart was thumping.

But all was well.

He recalled bringing his glove to games when he was a kid even when he and William sat in the nosebleeds. One night at Dodger Stadium when they had decent seats, Colt came close. But some drunken brute jumped in front of him at a 1990 game and stole the ball that was coming straight for his glove. Colt was furious for three days.

It took forty-five years in total, and twenty-nine since that regretful night, but Colt had hit the jackpot! An older gentleman from behind patted him on the back and offered congratulations. “Nice catch, son! They oughta sign you up – the O’s need all the help they can get!”

Without thinking about it, or paying any attention to the excited buzz in their section, Colt extended the ball toward Lindsay. He wanted it to belong to her.

Lindsay gasped and brought her opposite hand to her mouth, shocked he’d do such a thing. A few innings prior, Colt shared the story from 1990 and how angry it made him. Lindsay then commented that she’d snag a foul ball of her own for sure before the night was through.

Lindsay stared at the ball for several seconds as Colt insisted she take it. Pamela had no qualms, uninterested in something so frivolous. Soon, Lindsay accepted, and Colt received a gracious hug for the kind gesture. The whole stadium came alive with applause. Huh?

An instant later, Lindsay saw a young boy, perhaps age ten himself, with his eyes transfixed on the ball. He had his Orioles gear on, too, and a mitt on his left hand, not to mention that look of so close, yet so far away etched across his forlorn face. Colt knew the feeling.

Lindsay locked eyes with the boy.

She then turned and raised a lone brow at Colt.

He smiled and tipped a subtle nod.

Lindsay gave the ball to the young fan.

The crowd erupted with cheers.

As the young fan and his father thanked Lindsay profusely, Colt glanced up and noticed something extraordinary. Oh boy. That was why there was such a decibel roar! All four of them were on the big screen video board beyond center field. Had these past few seconds of their lives been shown to the masses?

The brilliant, glittering image zoomed in on Lindsay, who was so overcome with emotion from making the boy’s day that she had to wipe tears from her cheeks. There was no way that she could have continued to hold them in. However, Lindsay had zero idea that she was on the big board. Yet the crowd saw what she had done and gave her a rousing ovation.

That, and because she was a pint-sized hottie not afraid to flaunt her considerable assets in skimpy attire.

Lindsay was confused at all the adulation until Colt pointed toward center field. She glanced out and screamed, embarrassed to be the focal point of the stadium (and thousands of televisions across Maryland and Texas). Would this simple act of human kindness go viral? Lindsay’s ongoing reaction? She buried her face upon Colt’s shoulder, seeking refuge in her own patented way. The crowd laughed uproariously.

Colt comforted Lindsay in his arms and his lips touched hers, a whisper of a kiss as Pamela looked on from the side, her cocoa-brown eyes glazed over, full of adoration, and a soft, unmistakable glow rippling all around her.

----

Ducking in and out of hills, valleys, and ravines, their hike merged with the forest road, so Lindsay and Colt headed up a steep incline, and the gorgeous view of Patapsco State Park took her breath away.

Colt retrieved a waterproof blanket from his backpack and laid it on the grassy knoll next to Cascade Falls.

“Wow, I’m impressed. You’ve come prepared.”

“I’ve done my fair share of hiking, too, you know.”

She nodded. “I have no doubt.” On Sunday afternoon, they parked near the swinging bridge and, as promised, made the trek up to the waterfall. The only thing that’s missing is Pamela. Along the way, Lindsay marveled at enormous oak trees and blueberry bushes. And I thought the scenery out west could never be topped.

“You wait here. Don’t move a muscle,” Colt said an hour earlier in the parking lot, rendering Lindsay motionless – and a little confused – as he hopped out of his Jeep Wrangler and rushed over to the passenger side.