by Ann Mauren
“Good night Gray.”
I turned to face him and smiled. Then I punctuated my intent with a yawn.
“I love you, Ellie,” he whispered, full of feeling.
I had never expressed that sentiment to him before, out loud, that is, and though I was certain it would sting him, this was not the time to begin.
“I know,” I whispered back, moving as quickly as I could to take refuge in the girl’s tent, zipping the door behind me.
It was one of the longest nights of my life. It would have been anyway because the sounds of the night were loud and strange and scary when heard through the filter of my grizzly bear alert early warning system. But I had other unsettling thoughts flashing in and out of my head.
Had I already crossed the line and ruined things with Ash? Was he here in a tent just feet from mine strictly to do his job now, and not because he loved me? I absolutely deserved it, if that’s how it was, but it caused me physical pain, in my head and my stomach, just to consider that very real possibility. Then the pain would intensify when I thought about my actions, and how they had surely caused this same kind of pain to him. He didn’t deserve that. Ash was good and kind and honorable and I loved him to the point of obsession. But after Gray had explained some missing details to me, I was astounded to realize that there was room in my heart and mind to obsess over him as well.
What was wrong with me and what was I going to do about it? I wished I had some fresh beef. I’d strap it to my butt and let the bears take care of the rest.
The next morning Elsie got me up early. I pulled at the twists she had put in my hair the night before, interested to see the results. The twists did amazing things to the look of my hair. Once undone, the strands of hair cascaded in perfect ringlets, falling from every direction. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
Satisfied with her hair styling handiwork, she unzipped our tent and we quietly left camp to go downstream to bathe and wash out some sweaty clothes from the day before. We found an eddy in the creek and stripped to our underwear, using her unscented soap to clean up. She had brought along a pan of hot water from the fire that we used for making our washcloths warm. It made the experience almost pleasant. After switching into fresh clothes, I took yesterday’s sports bra and panties and washed them out in the creek, wringing and re-wringing them. We were not breaking camp today so we’d be able to hang up our wet clothes and towels during the day, letting them dry in the sun.
The plan was to take several day hikes from our base camp, meeting back for lunch and then again for dinner. While we worked quietly at the stream on our bodies and our clothes, Elsie finally brought it up.
“So, I’m hoping that you know Phil from somewhere?”
It was a statement but she asked it like a question. I saw no need to lie to her. She’d already seen the worst.
“Yes. He’s my fiancé.”
That information wasn’t what she was expecting and her mouth hung open in shock.
“Gray knows I’m engaged to a boy back home, and I never agreed to marry him instead, I just agreed to reconsider my options, once he explained his feelings for me.”
She collected her expression and now it was downgraded from shocked to just very intense.
“But, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, Gray’s extremely optimistic, and he doesn’t take no for an answer.”
She smiled at that and I could tell that she knew what I meant.
“We got our wires crossed. He was in love with me and didn’t tell me, I guess because he thought I was too young. Then, while he was waiting for me to grow up, I fell in love with one of the security people he hired to protect me without my knowledge.”
I shook my head and got back to gathering my things, making ready to head back to camp.
“So it’s all messed up now,” I summarized.
“I see you’re wearing two rings,” she observed as she looked at my hands.
“Could you say no to either one of them?”
It was a weak defense, but it was all I had.
“Sounds like there were a few mitigating circumstances.”
She smiled with a gleam in her eye, reassuring me slightly.
“Listen, honey, if I could trade problems with you, I certainly would,” and she held me with her eyes, looking for my reaction.
I laughed at that. I knew she was right. But it wasn’t about who would make me happier, the problem was about who would be hurt that was upsetting me so badly. If I could know which person I was better for, if I could tell who would get past me sooner, if there was a way to be at peace with whatever I decided—for all of us to be…
“It sounds like you need to put your foot down. Tell them both to back off and give you some space, and some time, for crying out loud, what are you about fifteen?” she chided.
“I’m old enough to drink wine at The Fairmont Banff Springs, actually older than that, by a year,” I replied, sounding like it was some accomplishment on my part to be nineteen.
“Well, you’re not old enough to marry either one of those characters, or anyone else, for that matter. You need some time. You’ve got to live on your own, make your own decisions, and be in charge of your life for a while. If you hand control over to one of them before you ever taste it for yourself, you’ll always wonder how it might have been, what you missed, and whether you were rushed into a decision that was made for you.”
She paused while she wrung out her washcloth.
“Look honey, if either of them loves you as much as they think they do, then they can wait a little longer, if it’s best for you, which it is.”
That was the most reasonable, no nonsense advise I’d probably ever get on this topic and I filed it away for further consideration, feeling enormously grateful for Elsie’s presence in my life this morning. I nodded in agreement.
“So what’s the story with Phil?”
I knew that was coming. I decided to continue with the truth. She deserved it.
“He’s Australian actually, though he lives in the house behind mine in Louisville right now. And he’d never camped in his life before this time last month,” I said with a huge smile.
She had that open-mouthed shocked look again.
“He’s a quick study. He had some pretty intense training a few weeks ago to get ready for this. I’m not saying he’s not capable. He’s just not a veteran. But it would be very much like him to research everything there is to know about Kahurangi National Park, so whatever he tells you in your idea swapping sessions is probably good information.”
She raised her eyebrows, just now considering that aspect of their relationship.
“Please promise me you’ll play along. They might actually kill each other if Gray finds out who he is. It’s only for two more days…please? Please promise me, Elsie?” I pleaded in the most pitiful tone I could muster.
“All right, if you’ll promise me in return that you won’t let either one of them push you into making a decision right now. Do we have a deal?”
She was serious as she looked at me with those piercing eyes, her expression shrewd while she assessed my reaction.
“How ‘now’ is right now?” I asked, trying to get advice on exactly how much time I should take.
“I’ll leave that to you, but you should give yourself enough time to think about what kind of life you’d like, what you want in a mate, and how each of them fits in to that frame of reference.”
Talk about a fearless leader! I actually felt hopeful with some sort of direction to follow and not stricken blind for the first time since Gray had appeared. She was right and I could feel the truth of her words down deep. It would be the worst kind of self-inflicted pain to part ways with either of these men, but if it would make me a better person and make for the best resolution in the big picture of things, working out best for all of us, then I would take the pain, gladly. It would be like an unpleasant operation: terrible and excruciating, but ultimately a lifesaver.
When
we returned to camp both men were working around the fire. I avoided eye contact with either of them and joined Elsie in hanging our wet things on a line stretched between two trees. After I couldn’t stall any more, I headed over to the campfire to work on something to eat. Gray rose to meet me, putting whatever he had been holding down so that he could hug me around the waist and kiss me briefly in hello.
“Good morning, Princess Bride.”
Then he whispered, “How’s life at the girls’ tent?”
But I was still stuck on the ‘Princess Bride’ comment and my eyes automatically locked with Phil’s. There was pain and anger clearly visible, before he looked quickly away.
Gray was pulling at my hair, which had fallen around to the front. Then I realized what he was referring to, and why the look of my hair had seemed familiar to me. It looked just like Buttercup’s hair the night she was supposed to marry Prince Humperdink, in wavy ringlets around her face.
I laughed in relief and said, “Does that make you the Dread Pirate Roberts or Miracle Max?”
He chuckled and let me go, directing me to a place next to his spot near the fire. I passed Phil on the way, who was staring at the flames, and I sat down between my two lovers.
Gray had my breakfast staged, and poured the boiling water for my hot chocolate. I opened one of the packets of oatmeal he’d set out, emptying it into a bowl and he poured hot water into that for me as well. Then he handed me a spoon and I stirred the contents until it resembled lumpy paste.
“The breakfast of Champions—or in my case, Quakers,” I commented to myself as I stood my spoon up in the middle of the oatmeal, letting it cool.
I knew it was a waste of time, but I blew on the hot chocolate anyway, trying to cool it down from boiling lava hot to just scalding.
“Would this make a difference?” said Phil, holding a sample size bottle of Godiva chocolate liqueur up for me to inspect. I smiled and nodded with enthusiasm. He’d stolen my inside joke, turning it into a new one for us to share.
“It might,” I acknowledged as he handed it over, slightly recovered, a knowing smile gracing his now somewhat rougher, though still gorgeous face. I stared at him briefly when I realized I was seeing the shadow of a beard on his face. I smiled and shook my head again, this time in embarrassment with myself, when it occurred to me that until this moment I’d actually thought he was too young to shave.
“What?” He asked, having caught the turn of my countenance.
“It’s nothing.”
I tried to dismiss it and divert him by making a show of trying my enhanced and temperature controlled version of hot chocolate. It was now only blisteringly hot, but even served over ice it would now have a certain warmth to it.
“That looked like something to me. What were you thinking just now?” he asked quietly.
It was still so strange to hear him speaking like a Kiwi. It was kind of like flirting with a stranger. His smile made me smile even more, which didn’t help my cause.
“Well?” he prompted.
“How old are you, Phil, if you don’t mind my asking?”
The happy mischievousness in his eyes evaporated. A stone wall seemed to instantly pile up in its place. Why was that a hard question? But I knew the answer already. Little comments he’d made along the path of our relationship had made me think that the difference in our ages was a sore point for him, though I had never inquired about the specifics before this moment. I’d always attributed it to my just being too young. Did he really think he was too old?
I waited patiently for his answer, while he did some internal deliberating, probably deciding on how he could most tactfully request for me to mind my own business.
“Yeah, I was wondering that too,” Gray added.
I’d turned my back on him to face Phil, and I’d forgotten he was there for a moment. I think he must have sensed that and this was his way of reminding me.
“I turned twenty-eight in May.”
He said this like he was making a murder confession, staring warily at my eyes, searching there for the reaction he feared.
“Huh, that’s interesting. You could pass for much younger.”
I tried to communicate as much as I could with my smile and my eyes, which were still glued to his. What I tried to say was, ‘I love you. I want you, no matter what your age. Please believe me.’
He had to be careful with his response because, unlike my own, Gray could see his face.
“You too,” he replied softly, some of the stones in his countenance knocked away by my attempts at non-verbal communication.
“How old are you Gray?”
Elsie had emerged from her tent and jumped right into the census taking.
I turned to view his response. He seemed about as comfortable answering the question as Phil had been, but he didn’t take as long to reply.
“I turned twenty-four in May.”
His answer was flat and he didn’t look up from his oatmeal.
I was secretly pleased with myself. At least my guess of his age had been in the right neighborhood. I’d been in the wrong state with the other one.
“Well, I guess that makes me Mother Hen,” Elsie said, with feigned irritation.
“Speaking of care giving, would you like me to do your hair this morning, Ellie?” she asked as she sat down on a log, directly across from me.
I thought I had done my hair…and in that I had my answer.
“Thank you. I’d love that.”
After she finished her granola bar and instant coffee I sat down in front of her with my pad and handed her my brush and a couple of hair bands. It was obvious from her own appearance that she could do more than ponytails.
Once again, I had the satisfaction of seeing the glazed look on both men’s faces as they paid unwavering attention to Elsie’s hair brushing techniques.
I could really get used to this for a couple of reasons. I knew my hair would look great and stay put, and it was such an amazing way to start the day, though it made me feel like slipping back into my sleeping bag and zipping it completely over. Once she was finished brushing through and then tying down my hair, she released me and I began staging my daypack for the morning’s activities.
Gray had shown me how to use the water purifier and I worked on that to pump out clean water into my hiking bottle. Then I rooted around in our food bag for a protein bar and some Swedish Fish, placing both inside a triple smell-proofing barrier of Ziplocs. Next, I folded a handful of tissues, tucking them in an outside pouch, in the event of an emunctory (nose blowing) emergency, hoping I wouldn’t need them, but knowing I’d be glad to have them if I did. Then I zipped up the daypack and retied the laces of my hiking boots.
Gray finished with the food bag as well and walked over away from camp to the spot where Elsie had set up the high wire hungry bear-foiling apparatus. I watched him work on this because I hadn’t seen how it operated the night before, when they had done it in the dark. It was a winching technique, pulling the rope until the bag was suspended twenty feet in the air between two trees.
The clothesline was attached to a set of adjacent trees, though it was not quite so high. Just then a really big gust of wind hit the clearing and I thought that everything on the line might blow away into the next province. But only one casualty hit the ground…and of course it would have to be my panties.
Gray bent down to retrieve them, but to my chagrin, he did not place them back on the line. Instead he looked at them for a moment and then folded them before turning and heading back over to me.
I don’t know why this embarrassed me so much, but I could feel the heat in my face as he approached to return them to me. He caught my mood as he closed the distance, gathered me into an enveloping hug and pressed a kiss on my forehead while pressing the underwear into the pocket of my jacket.
“These are dry. You should put them away or they’ll probably be gone by the time we get back.”
His logic soothed me slightly, but only for a moment b
efore he continued.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so embarrassed. It’s just underwear. I plan on touching more than that someday, you know.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach, like a ride at King’s Island. He hugged me tighter, enjoying my reaction to his suggestive words.
“I’m sorry. Teasing you is so much fun, though,” he whispered in my ear, managing to work in another tease along with his apology.
Our plans for the morning took Gray and me along an unmarked path to a spot where the creek passed near a pond and then descended in elevation through a narrow ravine. There were places where huge slabs of rock jutted out of the earth at sharp angles and Gray was very interested in inspecting the stones and debris around them.
He found a few pieces that interested him, once again carefully documenting their location with his GPS device and labeling them in detail before stowing them in Ziplocs in his pack.
One enormous slab of rock near the edge of the trees at the ravine was smooth and somewhat wide on top. Gray had found a nice view there and summoned me to join him. After a bit of scurrying between roots and rocky footholds, I finally made it to the top. It was farther up than I’d realized.
He was waiting for me at the edge and pulled me up by my armpits the last three feet to join him on the surface. He didn’t let go of me right away and I guess I looked like I was bracing for an attack, because he looked a little hurt, releasing all but my left hand. Without a word he turned to guide me to the side with the view and settled me down next to him.
From this elevated perspective we could see the creek all the way back to the pond. It was a lovely site in the morning sun, with wildflowers dotting the grass, bending low in response to the intermittent gusts of wind. After a few moments I noticed that he wasn’t looking at the view. Instead, he was inspecting the new arrangement of my jewelry. I pretended like I didn’t notice and went back to enjoying the view, the warmth of the sun, and the coolness of the wind, listening to it blow through the trees and up the mountain.