Me and the Helpful Hurricane (Good Grief, Idaho)

by Gussman, Jessie

  “Wow, it’s nice in here. Plenty of room to stand up.” It’s the biggest tent I’ve ever been in. Just as big as the ladies’ tent, only there’s two sleeping bags laid out on the floor rather than three cots.

  I’m guessing Doug must be sleeping with Chubb and Patrick.

  “It’s not the Hilton, but it is certainly more luxury than I was expecting. As long as it doesn’t rain, I think we’re gonna be good,” Kimber says, pulling her phone out and zipping up her pack.

  “There was rain in the forecast, but I guess it missed us.”

  I grab my bag and put it on my sleeping bag, pulling my phone out. I leave the pack where it is and walk back out after checking to make sure Kimber doesn’t want me to help her with anything.

  The ladies and I form a semicircle around the fire, facing our chairs to the river, which glows with colors ranging from deep burnt orange to pink to light blue to a deep dark velvet navy before the sun finally sinks below the horizon and the stars start popping out.

  The ladies are talking about things they’ve done when they were younger and some things they wish they’d done but hadn’t.

  I’m listening with half an ear while also listening to the rustle and clanging of pots and pans. I hear Doug’s voice, and it sounds like he’s talking to Bain. I think Chubb and Patrick are with them, and the other voice must be Lee. I don’t look behind me to find out.

  Full darkness has fallen and we’ve turned our chairs around to the fire before a form moves beside me, and I look over.

  “You mind if I sit down?” It’s Bain, and I’m disappointed, but I still shake my head no.

  Doug follows Chubb and Patrick over, and the glow of the fire doesn’t reveal how he feels about the seating arrangements as he chooses a seat directly across from me.

  I wish he would have chosen something different so I’m not sitting there fighting myself to not stare at him.

  Lee has a guitar, and after we eat, he strums and sings, and we all sing along with the songs we know.

  Maybe it’s corny to sit around a campfire and sing songs, but our seniors just love it. Especially since he’s chosen songs that they seem familiar with.

  I have to admit I’m impressed with Bain and his outfit. I had thought he was kind of a two-bit, fly-by-night dude, but he’s actually done a really good job. First the cots for the seniors and of course knowing the river well enough to take us down without rapids. The big tents, the food, and then the songs that I’m going to assume were especially chosen to appeal to their age group.

  As Kimber asks Agnes what her favorite part of the day was and films her with her phone while Agnes answers, I lean over to Bain and say, “I’m impressed with how well you’ve handled these ladies and gentlemen and making sure that their needs are met. Making sure that things are easy enough for them but not juvenile. The songs, the food, the cots.”

  I wave my hand, trying to encompass it all. I don’t want to tell him that my first impression was that this was going to be a disaster and that he was an amateur. Although that would be true, and I’m ashamed of that.

  “I’ve learned a few things even though I haven’t been in business long. Pretty much every trip down the river, we run into something that’s a little crazy, but I’ve learned that guests come first, and they like to be comfortable.” He looks out at the river and then the sky and the mountains towering on the other side. “I just love Idaho so much, and it’s a privilege to be able to share her with other people. It’s a little thing to make sure these people are comfortable and enjoy themselves.”

  I’m impressed. Seriously. And for a moment, I wish that my attraction went in Bain’s direction.

  But his doesn’t go in mine. In fact, I kind of wonder if he’ll ever get married. He seems to love the land to the point where it doesn’t leave much room for a wife. Or a girl.

  He definitely needs someone woodsy and outdoorsy.

  I’m not even tempted to talk to him about it though. Although I suppose it’s the female in me that wants him to seem happy with someone.

  “Doug seems like a really nice guy,” Bain says in a conversational tone, but his words make me jerk my head to him, wondering what in the world would make him say something like that. It doesn’t sound like typical male speak.

  “He’s good at his job,” I say. A noncommittal answer.

  “He seems kind of protective of you,” Bain says, his words still conversational, but he has his brows lifted, almost like he’s asking me a question.

  “I think he’s protective of everybody. We’re his responsibility.” I grimace. “I’m sorta known for getting myself in trouble. Or for getting him in trouble. Maybe he’s just trying to avoid that. Especially with the camera.”

  My voice is low, pitched that way so Kimber’s phone doesn’t accidentally pick me up. Bain’s been speaking the same way, and he glances over at Kimber, something in his gaze that I can’t read, before he looks back at me.

  “I guess that could be it,” he says, and then he shrugs.

  Kimber has finished interviewing each one of the ladies about their day, and she is recording Chubb as he talks about what he enjoyed on the first day.

  “Tomorrow, the water is going to be a little bit rougher in some places, but it still should be a nice, easy ride. I also checked the weather, and there is no rain in sight for the rest of the week. You guys couldn’t have picked a better week to come.” Bain grins at me, but his eyes track over to Kimber, and I feel bad for him.

  Not only has Kimber not expressed any interest in him at all, but she’s a city girl through and through. Even out here, in the middle of what feels like nowhere, she looks sophisticated and classy. While Bain looks exactly like what he is, an outdoorsy guide, who’s quite capable in the woods but would stick out like a sore thumb in a boardroom. Same in the city.

  I see his fascination with Kimber though. She just exudes confidence and capableness.

  My eyes move across the fire. I’ve been pretty successful at not staring at Doug, but as I’m thinking about Kimber, I look at him, expecting to see the same look of adoration on his face that’s on Bain’s while he eyes her up.

  But as I look across, he’s looking at me.

  Our eyes meet, and maybe I’m crazy, but it makes the night just that much sweeter to have that connection with him.

  Except he doesn’t look happy.

  Chapter 16

  Doug

  I admit I had to be talked into this. I didn’t think it would go well. In fact, if anything, I thought it would be another big mess.

  But I actually had fun today. I enjoyed looking around and seeing the residents laughing and enjoying themselves.

  Supper was good, and there was plenty of it, and now sitting around the fire looking at the stars and, even though it seems corny, even the singing just makes me feel like it was a really fantastic day.

  But there is a disquiet in my chest that I’ve been fighting for an hour, and I am ready to get up and leave.

  The singing has stopped, and Lee puts his guitar back in its case.

  He is sitting beside me, and he’s chatted a little about his brother and the bees that they raise together and how the honey that we had for supper tonight was from their own beehives, which explains why it was in a mason jar, and he’s told me how they sell it to make money on the side, and I feel like he’s hinting around about me wanting to buy some, and honestly on a regular day, I probably would have, because the honey over the sausage that we had tonight was really good. Not something I would have picked out myself, but I really liked it once I tried them together.

  But I’m not really in the mood to talk. Not to Lee.

  Leah is gorgeous. Firelight becomes her.

  And I know she’s funny and sweet and not afraid to do things that will make other people happy, and, after a night in jail together, I know I enjoy spending time with her and feel like we work—and play—well together.

  But she’s been whispering with Bain, and even though Miss
Agnes hasn’t really tried to do any kind of matchmaking, maybe because of her granddaughter being here, it bothers me that they seem to be in their own world with their heads bent toward each other, and she is laughing, and he is grinning and seems to be unable to take his eyes off her.

  Normally, I’m not the jealous type.

  In fact, if looking at them hadn’t made me so angry, I wouldn’t have termed this disquiet jealousy.

  That has to be what it is, because there’s no reason to be angry, and if I didn’t care about her talking to Bain, I shouldn’t care.

  Finally, I decide that a short walk would be a good idea, and I stand abruptly.

  Chubb is in the middle of a story, and no one really notices when I walk off.

  Just so no one wonders, I head toward the Job Johnny that was set up downriver on the sandbar.

  I don’t intend to go far. I’m not a walk in the dark kinda guy. Especially in the middle of the wilderness.

  But I do need to get away.

  I walk out of the firelight and around the circle, Chubb’s voice fading as he wraps up his story and the group laughs.

  Part of me loves the group atmosphere and being outdoors, and I’m surprised at that, since this isn’t the kind of guy I am. I just wish it weren’t tempered by this irritation and the desire to be away from Leah and Bain.

  I have three more days of this.

  Three days I think I would enjoy if I didn’t have to watch them together.

  I wasn’t going to go far, and I end up walking farther down the sandbar. It’s not extremely wide, but it’s long, and I’m probably fifty yards away from the fire before I stop, putting my hands in my pockets and looking up at the night sky.

  I am not interested in romance. I am happy alone. These feelings are unwelcome as well as unexpected.

  The moon is pretty on the water as the river flows lazily by. I think part of the reason it’s going to take us so long to go down is not because we’re going so far, but because the water goes so slowly.

  It’s perfect for our group.

  The little bit I talked to Bain, he’d said that this is where he takes families with young children and groups like that. I don’t think he gets a lot of seniors, because I don’t think there are a lot of seniors who hear whitewater rafting and feel like that’s something they want to do.

  Miss Agnes is truly one of a kind. And the fact that she can take others along with her just shows what a magnetic personality she has.

  Leah probably has something to do with that too. If I ever end up in the assisted living facility, I would like to have someone like Leah as activities director. She definitely makes life fun.

  “It’s been a good day.” Her voice comes from beside me, and I manage to keep from jerking, but just barely.

  I hadn’t been expecting her to follow me—she and Bain were pretty into each other—but there is a part of me that’s happy that she did.

  It eases some of the burning in my chest.

  I turn toward her. “It was.”

  She’s pretty in the moonlight. She’s pretty anywhere, and there I go, one more reason why I shouldn’t be talking to her. I’m her boss. Although, this isn’t exactly a work thing. This is supposed to be fun. For the seniors and for us.

  We stand there for a little bit. I’m looking back at the water. I don’t know what she’s looking at.

  I tell myself I don’t care. I don’t want to care as much as I do. It hurts to see her laughing with someone else, and that tells me I’m definitely caring way too much. More than I should. More than I have a right to.

  “Is something wrong?” she asks, and she sounds hesitant.

  I don’t know what that means. I feel like I’m too old to play games. Or maybe I just don’t want to anymore.

  Maybe once upon a time, I would have been sly about my answer and played my cards close to the vest.

  Or maybe because I feel Leah is worth it, I turn to her, managing to keep my hands in my pockets, even though I want to cross my arms over my chest. Like a defense.

  “So maybe Miss Agnes doesn’t have to play matchmaker between you and Bain?” I ask, and my words do not sound casual. I wish they did.

  Her mouth drops open, and she stares at me.

  I get the feeling that maybe I’ve overreacted.

  I just said one sentence, so I’m not thinking I overreacted with her, but maybe this burning in my chest is over a casual conversation and it wasn’t a whispered affair like I’m thinking.

  “She does not have to play matchmaker between Bain and me. I mean, she can try all she wants to, but she will be unsuccessful.”

  I notice she doesn’t use contractions, and she kind of emphasizes her words.

  My skin breaks out in a sweat, and my stomach turns over.

  She’s standing close enough that I catch her scent. Something light that makes me want to smile, but I don’t.

  “Why?” I ask, and it feels like a dumb question, but maybe I need to know.

  “Because I’m not interested in Bain,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “I see.”

  “But I saw you and Kimber chatting by the bus. Since Melissa canceled, maybe Miss Agnes can set you two up.”

  I borrow her words. “She can try. But she will not be successful.”

  Leah’s eyes flash in the moonlight, and maybe her lips tug up just a little. “Why?” she asks, and now my lips tug up. Amused that our conversation is mirroring each other’s words.

  “Because I’m not interested in Kimber,” I say, and now we’re facing each other, our grins goofy, our breath mingling.

  I’m not the kind of person to have a goofy grin, but I can’t wipe it off my face.

  I guess I should have known that Leah wouldn’t let it go at that.

  “And who are you interested in?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper with just a little tilt of insecurity in it.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever be interested in anyone again,” I say, and it’s not the answer that I should say. I know it as the words come out of my mouth, so I don’t stop. “I suppose you can imagine my surprise as, over the last few weeks, something’s been happening that makes me feel like maybe that’s not true anymore.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she says, smiling.

  “I’m interested in you, Leah.”

  It feels dangerous to put that out there. Dangerous because she could laugh at me. Dangerous because she might not feel the same. Dangerous because she just might be looking for a compliment; she might not be serious. Serious like I am.

  It also feels dangerous because I’m her boss. And this is something that could become a major problem for both of our jobs. It could hurt the facility, the one we’re trying to save. Neither one of us wants that.

  Maybe the words would have been better left unsaid. But they’re out there now.

  I hear her swallow. Her eyes leave mine for a second, which scares me. Because it feels like maybe she’s gathering the nerve to tell me that she doesn’t feel the same. But then, why is she standing so close?

  Why is she grinning at me, and why did she follow me?

  “I guess that makes it okay for me to say I’m interested in you too, Doug,” she says, her eyes floating back to mine, but the knowledge of everything that could go wrong is right there in her gaze and probably mirrored in mine.

  “I’m happy to hear it, and it’s darn inconvenient too,” I say, attempting levity.

  I succeed, because she laughs.

  “I think you just called me an inconvenience.”

  “Not you. You might blow in like a hurricane, but I’ll never think it’s an inconvenience.”

  “Not even when I rearrange the front lawn or use all the aluminum foil and plastic wrap in the kitchen?”

  “I would not have wanted you to use one piece more. That gown was quite revealing, and I have to say, if there had been more to it, I would have been disappointed.”

  “I’ll show you my big toe anytime you want
me to,” she says with a glint in her eye.

  “I’m sorry to break it to you, but I saw more than your big toe.” I grin, and I’m only partially teasing her. There was a lot of leg showing, and some bare shoulders, and I am pretty sure she wasn’t wearing any undergarments, but I didn’t exactly see what I’m insinuating I did.

  “A gentleman would have looked away,” she says, and her voice sounds a little sultry.

  I’m tempted to say I’m no gentleman, but I think that line has already been used. I do have an older sister.

  Plus, I think I am a gentleman.

  “That sounds boring,” I say instead. “Maybe a gentleman would have joined you?”

  “I don’t think a tux would turn out as well in aluminum foil and plastic wrap as what a dress does.”

  “I can’t disagree with that. And I’m definitely not interested in wearing a dress.” We might as well get that straight right now. Since I think that maybe this might be going a little further than just friends.

  At least that’s what I’m feeling. Of course, maybe I shouldn’t get the cart ahead of the horse. I do believe she said she is attracted to me, but that’s all we’ve established. A relationship takes a lot more than just attraction.

  She might not be interested in going there any more than what I was. Funny, but I think my mind has changed.

  “So is that why you came over here? Because you thought that I was talking to Bain because I liked him?”

  I should have known she would cut to the point eventually. And I would have to answer the hard question.

  I could dodge it or ask her a question in return, but I figure honesty is the best policy.

  “Yeah. That’s why. It didn’t sit very well with me, because...because I wanted to be the one talking to you.”

  “That’s a little scary, Doug. Am I not allowed to talk to anyone else?”

  “Maybe I said that badly. I don’t want you to whisper sweet nothings in the moonlight with anyone else.”

  “I would not say that I’m a sweet nothings in the moonlight kinda girl. I’ve managed to live a lot of years without ever doing moonlight romance, but,” she looks up at the sky, at the stars that are shining thick and bright, and then she looks back at me, “but I think I’ve been missing out.” Her lips turn up. “And not just because the stars are beautiful. I think...I think in order for the sweet nothings in the moonlight to work, I need the right man.”