by Ann Mauren
While we had the place to ourselves he took the opportunity to kiss me, and the warm rays of sun on our faces and his hands moving gently across my face and in my hair gave it a dreamlike quality. As I examined him from this extreme close up, using every sense to collect information about him, I mused about how wonderful being kissed by this incredible guy would truly be if my own guilt and confusion weren’t messing it up for me.
With Gray, privacy had never been a restricting factor up to this point, though I desperately wished it would be, and I resigned myself that Ash was going to see this new aspect of our relationship at some point. Ash and I still had not had a chance to speak privately about where things stood between us and at this point it sounded like he thought I’d switched sides. What was frustrating, though, was that the more tentative I seemed to be in his embraces, the harder Gray worked on me, trying to coax a corresponding emotional sentiment out of me, not giving up until he was satisfied that I was trying, or at least enjoying myself. With the element of guilt swirled into the mix, there would never be a way to truly win at this, though even losing felt shockingly good, and certainly gave the appearance of transferred loyalties.
“Gray?” I began, breathlessly after he released me. He looked at me in answer, leftover fire still making his eyes smolder. “Do you think there’s any way we could reserve the affection, especially this kind, for times like this, when our friends aren’t watching us? It ruins it for me when I get embarrassed.”
I had to look away from his eyes while I asked this.
He laughed softly and pulled my face back around to see my eyes while he spoke.
“I’ll do my best, but you need to get over being self-conscious. Your kind of beauty will always attract an audience.”
He was very sincere. The combination of physical affection and then receiving compliments about my appearance from Gray had abrupt and potent effects on the core of my stomach, making it contract and then vibrate in the best and worst ways.
“You don’t need to worry about them. They both know how it is. Elsie’s got her boyfriend and she told me that Phil is engaged to a girl from back home.”
Though I already knew that second part, obviously, hearing Gray say it was like pouring lemon juice on my emotional paper cut. I felt incredibly unfaithful and disloyal at the moment. Even so, I did an admirable job of disguising the bitter kind of pain and the acidic sort of burn coursing through my mind and heart.
Eventually we loaded up again and moved on. After another hour or so we met up with the ‘naturalists’ and dropped our packs to break out some lunch. We had actual lunchmeat sandwiches from Subway, but once they were eaten, that would be the end of ‘eating fresh.’ I mixed in some lemonade powder with the water in my bottle and had a very pleasant picnic. We sat with Elsie and Phil in an open spot off the trail while we ate.
I had settled into shy mode, for obvious reasons, only listening, and not partaking in conversation. I surreptitiously stole glances at the one with the Kiwi accent while he ate. He had done such a good job of staying in character that I was beginning to feel slightly at ease, sort of how I might feel if he really had been who he was pretending to be.
Upon close examination of his clothes, I noticed that he had on a rather worn looking Kahurangi National Park logoed tee shirt.
That was a nice touch.
Apparently Elsie was the one who had spread the word about Subway for lunch because they both were enjoying subs like Gray and I were.
I had intended to leave my museum grade jewelry at the hotel during this trip but Gray insisted that I wear his ring, though he didn’t care what I did with the other piece. In the end I decided to wear them both, fulfilling the premonition I’d had about being the best-dressed person on the trail—or at least the best accessorized.
I noticed from my peripheral vision that at one point Phil was looking at my hands. To my surprise he engaged me and asked, “That’s a bit of a bold move, wearing such fine pieces of jewelry on your fingers out here. Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose them?”
Three pairs of eyes were on me as I scrambled for something appropriate to say. More quickly than I expected I came up with, “It’s okay. They’re both on me pretty tight, and I feel safer having them with me. I guess that’s because they remind me of people I love.”
No one could take offense at that line of reasoning, I thought, giving myself a mental pat on the back.
We walked on, enjoying views of the flat face of Mount Turner and beautiful vistas of meadow and stream and sky. We stopped twice more at creek side points for rock collecting before catching up to Elsie and Phil in the late afternoon at our campsite for the night.
The other two already had their tents up and the fire going when we finally arrived. Phil came out of nowhere to help me lift off my pack while Gray’s back was turned, doing that same thing for himself. Gray wasn’t being unchivalrous; he would be better able to help me once his own load was undone, which was normally quickly accomplished. So he was surprised and a little annoyed to see the job was already completed. Phil didn’t linger afterwards. He was in and out quickly so that he was already walking away by the time Gray realized what had occurred. He’d managed to help me off with my pack, which I’d now swear really did weigh fifty pounds, and still somehow get my heart moving in double-time.
I willed myself not to respond to the gnawing desire to look over at Phil as Gray worked efficiently at setting up our home for the night. At the point which he must have realized I wasn’t going to be using Lidia’s or Elsie’s tent, there was a rather loud bang, perhaps a metal cooking lid sliding home rather abruptly on an obliging rock. The shock of the sound made me look involuntarily, but I was only greeted with the sight of him storming away, into the woods. Elsie was inside her tent, and Gray was still working on the far side of ours, so there were no witnesses to the outburst, apart from the one person who would feel it most acutely.
I decided it was a very good time to go and get some water for dinner and I grabbed the pan from my pack for that purpose, after explaining to Gray where I was headed, and assuring him that I was going in the same direction as Phil, so that I would not be alone. Though my intentions were duplicitous, my words had not been.
I followed what looked like an animal path through the woods and around the bend to a slight incline where I could go up to another clearing or down to the creek bed. Phil was at the water’s edge, throwing rocks. For a second I thought about aborting, but he looked up and caught me, so I moved forward like there had never been any thought of hesitation.
I walked right up and hugged him, my face in his chest, not sure how long we would have and wanting to reassure him physically in what scant private time this occasion could offer. He hugged me so tightly that I had trouble breathing, but I didn’t dare complain. I just rubbed his back with my hands and squeezed him with my arms. Then he released me, moving his hands to capture my face and kiss me.
No one—not even Gray—had ever kissed me like that before. If the kiss had an essence, it could only be described as desperation. It absolutely broke my heart. I could feel the tears building, and apparently so could he. He made a little disgusted with himself noise and released me from the kiss, hugging me tightly one more time. Then he let go completely and walked a few yards away, picking up his container and mine and then returned to the stream to gather the water.
I followed and bent down next to him to retrieve my pan, which he’d already filled for me. I had no idea what to say, though I instantly wished I had been controlling the conversation.
“Ellery, will you be…sleeping with Gray tonight?”
He wouldn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry to press you like this, but I need time to prepare myself, if that’s how it is.”
He said this like Ash, not Phil. His tone was controlled, but the desperation still hinted around the edges of his words.
I felt ill. I wanted to die. I honestly didn’t know what might happen to me in the night an
d that was inexcusable. I knew that I should be able to control myself, and my destiny, just a little better.
Just then, the answer presented itself in the form of an unexpected body, right next to me, bending over the creek, matching Phil’s pose.
Elsie wore a befuddled yet vaguely bemused expression as she regarded us, but mostly me.
Perfect.
Was she going to be the whistle-blower type or the blackmailer type?
I moved forward with the plan that had taken shape just seconds before her approach, probably in unconscious recognition of her presence.
“Elsie, how would you feel about me joining you in the girl’s tent after all?”
She laughed out loud once, but then gathered her tone into more sincerity and said, “That’ll be fine. Is everything all right, though?”
Concern graced her wizened eyes.
“Um, I haven’t said anything to Gray yet…I thought I’d better check with you first. But I’m just thinking that since I’m not married to anyone here, it would be more proper if maybe we girls stick together, if you don’t mind.”
She patted me on the back, assuring me. I must have looked as bad as I felt. It’s a wonder she didn’t perform CPR on me, or last rights.
“Do you need me to tell Gray for you?”
She was perfectly sincere, and just like the coward I was, I actually considered it for a split second.
“No, but if you two could give me a few minutes, I’ll go say something to him right now. Thanks. I really appreciate it. I feel better already.”
And I did. And apparently so did Phil. His demeanor was totally transformed as he struck up a conversation with Elsie, like she hadn’t seen anything and nothing was remiss.
I turned and headed back to camp, petrified and clueless about how I was going to do what I had to do next.
I set the pan of water in the fire, with the handle facing out and approached the tent. Both our packs were inside now, so I needed to go in no matter what to retrieve my things. Unzipping the door, I moved inside and then re-zipped it behind me, keeping the bugs out.
He looked up at me and smiled in warm welcome. He had spread out his sleeping mat and bag, but hadn’t touched my bag, opting for giving me my privacy, and trying to avoid invasive behavior, even if it was conducted in the name of helpful administration of my comfort and care. It was a relief—moving out would be far less humiliating and traumatic by simply transferring an unopened backpack.
“Gray? Please don’t be upset with me.” I began, and my voice shook, embarrassing me. That got his attention and he dropped what he was doing to move over to me and take me in his arms like a child.
“Did you lose the pan in the creek?” he asked, slightly amused.
I wish.
“No, it’s about tonight. I’m…scared.”
That was true. The amusement in his face evaporated.
“If you’re worried about the bears, don’t be. We’ll tie all the food up in the air, and thanks to Elsie, no one smells good. We’ll be fine. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll hold you all night if it will help you sleep.”
I couldn’t deny that part of me would love that, but instead I had to move forward with preventing exactly that. Wiggling free of his hold, I turned and faced him.
“Gray, it’s not the bears…it’s the holding me all night part that I’m worried about. I think you’re aware of how weak I get when I’m around you…like that.”
I thought of the kisses on my neck in front of the hotel room window, and about falling trees.
“I’m very serious about waiting to be married before taking things to the next level. It’s just that…well…I’m finding out that my body and my mind aren’t always on the same page…when I’m close to you.”
He smiled hugely. This confession was obviously very good news to him, though that had not been my intention, and apparently it wasn’t helping my cause here.
“Plus, I haven’t broken off my engagement to Ash. So all things considered, I think the best thing for me to do here is to sleep in the girl’s tent, where I belong.”
I wasn’t sure if it was my reference to my prior engagement or the fact that I was resolved to sleep somewhere other than with him in his tent that caused the most displeasure in his expression. There was enough storm raging in his eyes to accommodate both unpleasant issues.
With no further speechmaking, I unzipped the tent and hauled my pack to the opening. Suddenly he was in my space, and in my face, blocking the way.
“Look, I won’t argue with you, if you feel it’s what’s best. But I want you to know that I had no plans to take you…with me to any levels out here. I have very different ideas about what our first time together, in that way, will be like.”
He was hot and his eyes matched his temperature. I felt myself melting from the heat, and the possibilities, but it reconfirmed that moving out was definitely the right choice.
“And I’m sorry I got ahead of myself, telling Elsie we’re engaged. That was unfair to you. I realize that now. Will you forgive me for that?”
The intensity had eased a bit and I nodded in assent. He wasn’t finished, though. He framed my face with his hands.
“But, Ellie, you belong with me, and no one else. I’m going to do everything in my power to make you believe that. I love you far too much to ever give up on you…just so you know.”
Then he kissed me. It was soft and sweet and seductive and mind blowing. I had to get out of there before he had me pleading for some level-taking with him.
Phil was very pleasant the rest of the evening. There seemed to be a total transference in moods between the two men. I felt bad to have upset Gray, especially since he’d been so blindingly happy up to the point where I’d switched it off with my resolutions. The difference was obvious and unpleasant for me.
Elsie, fully aware of the cause, was trying hard to keep the emotional atmosphere around the campfire upbeat, as opposed to lacrimonious. This consisted principally of distracting and keeping me engaged with funny stories and the occasional question about me and my short past, which were met with even shorter answers. When that didn’t work she changed her approach to simply trying to relax me.
“Ellie, would you like me to brush your hair?” she offered, pulling out the last stop.
No one had ever touched my hair, in that way, but my mom. I absolutely loved having my hair brushed, though I experienced it very rarely. So without a word I rose, went over to my pack, now inside ‘Chet Elsie’, and retrieved my hairbrush. Then I parked myself in front of her, sitting parallel to the campfire on a small foam mat, slightly larger than the size of my butt, and handed her the brush. I leaned forward with my hands around my bent knees and rested my chin and my eyes.
“Elsie, I’d really love that. Thank you so much for offering.”
She chuckled quietly in pleased satisfaction at her success while she began fingering through my hair. Then she engaged the brush, guiding it over the long strands with the soft touch of an expert, careful not to yank or pull. It was fabulous.
Through surreptitious peripheral view glances I could see that both men were paying rapt attention to the philocomal (love of hair) activity taking place on the girls’ side of the campfire. I wanted to be self-conscious, but the stress and anguish of the afternoon were melting away so nicely with every stroke from the brush that I could only concentrate on how good it felt.
I wondered if either of them had the same vicarious pleasure reaction to seeing another person getting their hair brushed that I always did. Just watching made me feel instantly sedated. Being the recipient was something more blissful than mere sedation. Elsie had struck upon exactly the right therapy for me.
Her final procedure was to assemble a ponytail and then take sections of hair and twist them into small strands of golden rope—eight in all.
“This will look really cool in the morning when you take it out,” she explained, enthusiastically.
I smiled to myself. I’d found an
other friend with unexpected talents. Who would have thought that Elsie Wilderness had ‘really cool’ hair techniques to share?
Just as I had predicted at our introduction, Elsie took me into the woods to pee before we turned in for the night. I broached the embarrassing request for accompaniment with, “So…I’m gonna go take a pee now. Do you want to come along and get killed with me now…or do you just want to get killed looking for me?”
She did those speedy mental computations after I spoke my normal nonsense and shot back with, “Listen here, little girl. I’m in charge of this operation. Nobody dies unless I say so.”
Then we made our way into the moonless dense darkness.
She’d brought along a really useful plastic device that reminded me of an ultra-squat watering can with an exaggerated extra-long thin spout. The base was much more shallow than a regular watering can, and oval shaped. The opening at the top was as large as the circumference of the base itself with a smoothly turned down edge. She explained that it was a female adapter, designed to direct urine out and away from your lowered pants and shoes.
This was a welcome innovation, though I found it highly comical to imagine a team of designers and injection molding professionals devoting time to such an endeavor. Clearly, though, the product filled a particular need. I’d experienced such troublesome issues when relieving myself out of doors on camping trips with my dad and grandpa, where no female direction or support had been available since my mom did not camp.
It had gotten fairly cold once the sun had set, so it was nice not to have to pull my pants all the way down, or squat near the cold ground. Once we were done she simply rinsed it out with water from a container she had brought along for that purpose.
Neither man had moved from their spots near the fire, probably because one was making sure I’d be staying with Elsie, and the other was hoping I might give him a look saying I’d changed my mind about that.
I was about to follow her into our tent for the night when Gray came out of nowhere and hugged me from behind, kissed my neck and whispered, “I promise I’ll be good if you come stay with me. No levels.” The feel of his warm lips touching under my ear in tandem with his assurances was nearly enough to override my decision—a ridiculously easy call to make—but then I caught myself undercutting my own resolve and wiggled free before it worked on me.