Traveling Bug

by Curry, Edna

"You lead the way."

  The mood shifted to gaiety and Diane's headache lifted along with it. They explored the glacial gardens which she’d told the seniors about the day before. Jeff exclaimed over them, leaning against the railings and following her as they climbed nimbly over the steep rock formations.

  "I can see why you didn't suggest bringing the seniors here yesterday," he said. "I'm glad they built guard-rails around these pathways."

  She nodded, holding onto the sturdy, black metal rail as she picked her way along the narrow path.

  "Although from the smoothness of the rocks and the dates on the carvings on them," he nodded towards a heart and set of names high on a rock wall, "people have been climbing them long before the railings were built. I wonder how many boys risked their necks to carve those?"

  "A good many, I suppose," she agreed. Glancing up, she found his warm gaze resting on her. She caught her breath, inhaling the fresh scent of pine needles. No one else was near them. They seemed alone in the universe, a brilliant blue sky above, rocks and trees around them and the gurgle of water over the rapids far below.

  He reached out and touched her cheek, his finger trailing a warm, tingling line down it. "You're different from what I expected, Diane."

  "Different?" His touch caused her voice to tremble.

  He nodded, his face sober, yet tender. "You did a terrific job of coping with the seniors yesterday. I see now why Anne thinks highly of you."

  She stared at him in surprise. A compliment from Jeff about her work? A warm glow of pleasure spread through her, matching the glowing gold and reds in the trees below them. She smiled at him. "Thank you."

  He slid his arm around her shoulders and they walked on down the trail.

  They explored the pathways on both sides of the river until Diane pleaded enough. Jeff was fascinated, and seemed tireless at climbing the steep slopes. But finally he suggested lunch. At his insistence, they went back to the restaurant they'd brought the tour group to the day before.

  Paula took them to a table in the dining room near the windows and left them. She must have told Bob they were there though, since to Diane's chagrin, he appeared as they finished eating.

  He looked handsome in his white shirt and black bow tie, yet Diane found herself comparing him unfavorably to Jeff. When she looked from one to the other, she found Bob decidedly juvenile. But that was unfair, she told herself. Jeff was older, and had been around so much more. So naturally, Bob would seem young by comparison.

  "You stayed over, I see," Bob said to Diane.

  "It was a spur of the moment thing, Bob. I didn't intend to stay, but one of the passengers had a heart attack, and I stayed behind with him."

  "And Jeff had to stay, too?"

  "No, of course not. He came back to give me a ride back home last night."

  "But you didn't go after all? Paula said...?"

  "I had a problem with my car, and Diane's parents very graciously put me up for the night," Jeff put in, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Bob.

  "Jeff is my superior at the travel agency," Diane told Bob, looking daggers at him, trying to tell him to butt out. But Bob was in no mood to be put off.

  "If you'll still be here tonight, how about going out for dinner or something?" he asked, ignoring Jeff.

  "I'm afraid we have to get back to the Cities tonight," Jeff put in tersely before she could refuse.

  Although she had been about to say the same thing, it irritated her that Jeff answered for her. As though he had that right. Her face flamed in anger, but she didn’t want to make a scene, so when Bob looked at her for confirmation of Jeff's statement, Diane knew she had no choice but to verify it.

  Damn Jeff anyway. And Bob, too, for his everlasting possessiveness. She used to think it was cute when they were in high school together. But that was years ago, and she had outgrown him. However, he was still her friend, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

  Finally Bob left them with a reminder of their date in a couple of weeks for the ski opener.

  "Skiing?" Jeff asked incredulously, looking at the warm, sunny day outside.

  She laughed, her eyes still on Bob's stiff receding figure. "As soon as the temperature gets down into the twenties at night, they'll start making snow. The ski resorts no longer wait for it to fall from the sky. It's surprising what a difference a couple of weeks can make. The trees will be bare and the whole valley will look different," she told him.

  "Do you come home often to ski? Why not ski closer to the Cities?"

  "Why not here? It's only an hour's drive and I often come home for the weekend anyway. Besides, these slopes aren't as crowded as those close in. Do you ski?"

  "Yes, but the resorts back home waited for real snow. We never had any man-made snow."

  Diane laughed. "Snow is snow. It's not really 'man-made'. Man just helps nature a bit, to make it."

  He held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, I believe you. I guess I haven’t kept up. Where do you want to go next?"

  "Well, if you're feeling athletic, we could go up to the ski resort and slide down the alpine slide. Have you ever done that?"

  "No, but it's a bit cool today to get wet, don't you think?"

  "Wet?"

  "Doesn't the slide end in water?"

  She shook her head. "No, you're thinking of the water-slides. They have those, too, in the summer. This is just a pair of chutes, made of fiberglass and concrete, I think. There are curves and dips. You sit in a little cart and ride downhill on rollers for about a quarter of a mile."

  "What if we go too fast and crash at the bottom?"

  She glanced quickly at him to see if he was teasing her. After the daredevil way he drove his car, he was afraid of riding a tourist attraction? He had to be kidding. But his face didn't say so. She managed to swallow the laugh that threatened to bubble from her throat. Trying to keep her voice steady, she explained, "You can control your speed with a brake, even stop if you want to.” She couldn't resist adding, “Afraid?"

  "Of course not. Sounds like fun."

  He took her arm, and walked her back to his car, a frown on his face at her slur on his bravery. They drove out along the river to the ski resort in silence at first. Off to their left, they could see a few houses half-hidden between the trees. On their right, they could catch occasional glimpses of the river glistening in the sunshine.

  His frown didn't last long and Diane relaxed under his quiet questioning, telling him about her family and the town.

  They bought tickets in the chalet and joined the line to get on the lift. Most of the riders were young. The ride on the lift itself was a thrill, the fall scenery spread out before them.

  He smiled at her as they neared the top of the hill. "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

  "Yes, but too bad we're facing uphill. The whole valley is behind us. No! Don't look!" she cried as he tried to turn in his seat to look over his shoulder and the chair rocked alarmingly.

  She glared at him, then ground out, "We're fifty feet off the ground in this thing in case you hadn't noticed."

  He shrugged. "The safety bar’s down. Afraid of heights?”

  “I’m not fond of them.”

  “Sorry. I guess we'll just have to wait until we turn around at the top to see it. If it's as gorgeous as you say, I don't want to miss it."

  "You have to get off before it turns around."

  "I don't have to do anything."

  "You mean ride back down on the lift? Nobody does that."

  "Why not?"

  "I don't know. They just don't."

  "Well, we are." He put out his arm and held her in place as they passed the landing spot and swung back out in space. The ground dropped away beneath them, and they were once again high in the air, swinging precariously in the chair.

  She was too thrilled to be angry with him. Besides, they had plenty of time. She had to admit that he was right. It was worth it. They feasted their eyes on the panorama of the whole valley spread out in golden splend
or before them as they rode back down. They laughed in delight as several people stared at them as they reached the bottom. Then they rode the lift back up for their ride on the slide.

  Getting off at the top, they each took a cart, and waited in line until they could ride side by side in the parallel chutes. The sign very clearly said, "no racing" but, with mutual disregard and wicked grins, they disobeyed and were off. They whipped around curves, Diane squealing in delight as they went faster and faster.

  Diane spied a sharp curve ahead. She shouted a warning at Jeff, as she pulled on her brake to slow just enough to keep from spilling as she rounded the curve and swooped on to the dip ahead of it. She looked back as she leveled out, sure that Jeff would have spilled out of his cart. She expected to see him lying in a heap.

  Instead she saw Jeff hit the dip with a bump and then pick up speed. Before she could recover from her surprise and relief, he had passed her and beat her to the bottom.

  He stood there grinning at her as she got out of her cart.

  "No fair," she objected, "your extra weight gave you an advantage."

  "Excuses, excuses. Just can't stand to lose, can you?" His friendly grin took the sting out of his words. "How about something cold to drink?"

  They went into the chalet, walked upstairs to the lounge and sat by the large windows which overlooked the slopes.

  One of Diane's former classmates, Jane Sands, was waiting on tables. As soon as they were seated, she spotted them and came over to their table to greet Diane.

  Jane looked expectantly at Jeff, and Diane knew she was anxious to be introduced. Diane obliged, then ordered a malt, watching Jane's face light up when she turned to Jeff.

  "Pleased to meet you, Jane,” Jeff said. “I’ll have a chocolate malt, too."

  Jane lingered, writing down their order on her pad, then wiping the already clean table. Finally, she asked Diane pointedly, "Does Bob know you're home?"

  Dryly, Jeff answered for her. "He knows,"

  Jane lifted an eyebrow, but Jeff said no more. Then, watching Jane reluctantly leave, he added to Diane, "Everyone certainly looks after you in a small town, don't they?"

  "Yes," she replied shortly, staring at Jane's back, "whether you want them to or not."

  "Don't you mind?"

  "At times it can be a real pain," she admitted. "It's frustrating to have them jump to their own conclusions and then repeat them as fact."

  "I suppose taking me to your home last night will be interpreted as bringing someone you're serious about home to meet your parents? Is that why she asked if Bob knew about me?"

  "Probably," she admitted ruefully. "But it doesn't matter. I don't really live here anymore, so I don't care what they say." But the tone of her voice said otherwise, and Jeff noted it.

  He tactfully changed the subject. They spent a pleasant half-hour watching people come down the slide and getting to know one another.

  Walking back to his car, he asked, "Where to, now?"

  "What would you like to do? It's too cool to canoe or swim. Those are the biggest attractions of the valley," she explained as Jeff looked questioningly at her.

  He grinned. "No, It's too cool to chance getting wet. Any shops in the area?"

  She glanced at him. Few men she knew liked to browse the shops. "Are you kidding? Dozens."

  Three hours later, she was the one to call a halt. Jeff had been fascinated first by the pottery and gift shops and then by the antique shops. She thought he would never stop talking when he found that one of the shop owners also loved old pictures.

  "I love this collection of 'the Lone Wolf'. You certainly have a variety of them. Do you know when they were lithographed?"

  "These were mostly done in the early 1900's. The original painting was by Alfred von Kowalski, a Polish painter who later lived in both Russia and Germany. He taught at the University of Munich. The ones facing right are copies of the painting done by an American artist, Charles Schenk. In this photograph of him, you can see several copies he made to sell to tourists. He essentially copied Kowalski's work, but made his wolf a female facing the male. Schenk went down with the Lusitania in 1915. Coincidentally, Kowalski died the same year. In the early 1900's many homes in the rural Midwest had a lithographed copy of one of these paintings."

  "Perhaps it was so popular because it was a typical lonely winter scene from the prairie," Diane put in. "Rural people could identify with it. I certainly get the feeling of the isolation one experiences when you are snowbound in the country. It reminds me of my grandfather's farm when I visited at Christmas time. The artist captured it well in the painting."

  "Yes." Jeff nodded. They haggled over the price, and Jeff bought one of the copies of the original version. "It will mean more to me now that I know something of the history behind it."

  "I didn't know you liked old lithographs." They walked back out into the sunshine.

  "I collect them. Dad thinks they're a waste of money, and I know they're not really valuable. I like them, so I buy them for myself."

  They ended the day with dinner at a restaurant overlooking a lake. While they waited for a table, Diane excused herself to freshen up. When she returned, Jeff waved to her from the phone in the entrance. He talked a few minutes more, then joined her.

  "I had to talk to Dad," he explained. "He's a hard man to track down. I guess I haven't been very accessible the last few days, either. I'm working on a some family business for him that he's very anxious for me to finish."

  "Oh, dear. Perhaps you should have been working today?"

  "I wanted to spend the day with you. I'll work on it tonight. I need to use the internet for some research, and it’s less busy at night anyway."

  "What are you doing?" she asked. She'd meant her question only as a topic of conversation and was surprised to see his face take on a closed expression.

  Hesitating, he looked away. "Just some programming. Technical stuff. Come on, I think our table's ready now."

  That sounded like a reasonable explanation. So why did she get this feeling that he was hiding something? She looked up to see the hostess waiting and followed her into the dining room.

  The hostess seated them near the windows, and they ordered the seafood for which Diane told him the restaurant was famous.

  They filled their plates at the salad bar and Diane smiled happily at Jeff as she lifted her fork and began to eat.

  "All that shopping really gave you an appetite."

  "Mmmhmm," she nodded, swallowing a mouthful of lettuce. "I don't think I'd want to do that very often."

  "I don't see how you resist, with all those shops right here under your nose."

  She considered a moment, then shrugged. "I guess anything right under your nose gets ignored. You know what they say about a prophet in his own country. Besides, I only come here occasionally on weekends now that I have my own apartment in Minneapolis. Some of those shops are new. They're always changing hands. One person goes broke and another tries it in his place, until he finds out what the seller didn't tell him when he sold it to him in the first place."

  "And what is that?" He grinned at her skeptically.

  She picked at her salad, irritation building. He was the big businessman, she wasn’t. He obviously thought that her opinions were worthless. "That there aren't enough tourists who spend much money to make a living off them," she retorted, "unless it is a sideline business, as it is for some."

  She stared out the window, uncomfortable now. A fisherman was out on the lagoon below their window, and he made a lovely picture against the sunset over the lake. "I wish I'd brought a camera. Isn't that a picturesque sight?"

  "No lovelier than the one I'm looking at," he replied.

  "Flattery will get you nowhere," she quipped, but was secretly pleased. She could see that he was trying to make up for his earlier remark, and wanted to make peace. Altogether, it had been a wonderful day. Perhaps she had been wrong about him. The waitress brought their food and they chatted more amicably as t
hey enjoyed it. Soon it was time to leave.

  The air was chilly outside. Jeff put his arm around her as they walked to the parking lot. As he unlocked the car door for her, their eyes met.

  Then he leaned down and kissed her softly.

  Surprised, she caught her breath, then responded as her pulse speeded. His warmth surrounded her and his arms wrapped around her. He groaned softly as she unconsciously moved closer, pressing her hands against his chest as his kiss grew more intense.

  Warmth flowed through every inch of her. She’d almost forgotten where they were until voices and laughter alerted them. He released her and helped her into the car.

  With a warm grin that held a promise, he started the car and pulled onto the highway.

  Chagrined, she leaned back against the soft leather seat and they began the hour-long ride back to Minneapolis. Soon her head slid sleepily against his shoulder.

  He gently shook her awake. "Hey, we're almost home, Sleepyhead. I'm afraid I don't know where you live."

  She sat up quickly, embarrassed at the way she had been cuddled against him. "Sorry," she said, and directed him to the large new apartment building where she lived.

  "Would you like some coffee?" she asked when they arrived.

  "Sure."

  She led the way to the elevators, suddenly feeling shy. Opening her door, she stepped back to allow her to precede him into her apartment.

  "Make yourself at home," She hung up their coats and headed for the kitchen to put on the coffee.

  Taking some of her homemade gingersnaps out of the ceramic cat cookie jar, she put them on a plate, then got out cups and saucers. When the coffee was ready she carried the tray through to the living room.

  She found him standing in front of her bookcases, reading the titles of her books.

  "You have interesting hobbies," he commented, grinning at her. "But don't you think ceramics are just a bit incompatible with computers?"

  He came over to her, took the tray and set it on the coffee table in front of the sofa, then sat down.

  She shrugged, and sat down beside him. "Dad got me started on computers. And then of course, I had to learn about them at work. But I only use programs, not write them as you do. Cream or sugar?"