by Robin Roseau
I stopped crying first, of course, but my heart went out for both women, and for the dog who had lost her mom. Alyssa eventually looked up at me. "Can you get us back to camp without my help?"
"Yes, Alyssa."
"Thank you, Janis." Then I watched as she slipped off the seat of the canoe and curled up on the floor, wrapping herself around the dog and crying. I dipped my paddle into the water and slowly began paddling us back to our camp.
Alyssa grew increasingly quiet. Blues lay next to her complacently, offering the occasional doggy kiss on Alyssa's face or hand. When I'd first met her, I wouldn't have thought Alyssa was the type to accept dog licks, but now that I knew the story, of course she accepted those kisses.
I got us back to the island, bumping us carefully against the shore.
"We're here," I said quietly.
Alyssa rose slowly to a sitting position, looking around. Her face was a mess, her eyes red. She snaked a hand into her daypack, coming out with tissues. She handed several to me before using the rest for herself.
Then she climbed out of the canoe, helping to steady it while Blues jumped out, then I got out. Alyssa helped pull the canoe up on dry land before stumbling back up the embankment to camp. I followed her, not sure what she wanted. But she turned around and threw her arms around me, starting to cry again.
"I'm sorry," she said. "You didn't sign up for this."
I wrapped my arms around her and made soothing noises.
"Thank you," she said after a minute. "I couldn't have done this alone." She cried for another minute or two then pulled away and looked at me. "Will you let me tell you about her?"
"Of course, honey," I said.
Caroline
She turned away from me, walking to the tent. When she returned, she had all three sleeping pads. She set them up in front of a large boulder then pulled me down to sit, leaning against the boulder.
"She was completely opposite from me," Alyssa began. "I am calm and reserved; she had fire red hair and was full of energy. She could never sit still."
For the next hour, Alyssa told me about Caroline. We sat shoulder to shoulder against the rock. At one point, Alyssa grabbed my hand and didn't let go. Blues lay down next to her for a while but eventually grew bored and wandered around. She came back several minutes later, prancing while carrying a tiny stick in her mouth.
Alyssa looked at the stick, which Blues dropped into her lap. She threw the stick before continuing with her story.
I threw it the next time Blues dropped it. After that, the dog alternated whose lap received the stick.
In the middle of a story involving Caroline and someone who had made an anti-gay comment to Alyssa, she suddenly stopped talking. She looked down at our hands. I thought right then she was going to become mad or embarrassed, but instead she leaned her head against my shoulder for a moment.
"You're gay, aren't you?" she asked.
"Yes." I tried to release her hand, but she held on. "I'm not trying anything," I added.
"I didn't think you were," she said. "I'm happy to know I'm not freaking out a straight woman."
I laughed lightly. "Jenna is straight, and she wouldn't have freaked out."
"I'm talked out," she said. "May I help you make lunch?"
* * * *
Alyssa's earlier reticence was clearly gone. In spite of being talked out, she told more stories about her time with Caroline. But then she began asking me questions. By the time lunch was over, she knew my basic story, and I knew hers. She helped me clean up then pulled me into a huge hug, kissing my cheek.
"Thank you," she said again. "I haven't spoken this many words total, except to Blues, since she died."
We held each other for a while before she pulled away. "I don't have a license, but will you take me fishing anyway?"
I nodded.
The cooking pack included two segmented fishing rods in a tube that looked a lot like a map case as well as reels and a small variety of artificial lures. I wouldn't normally take anyone unlicensed to go fishing, but I knew the game warden, and he would cut us a little slack if he happened to be on this lake. Out of the hundreds of lakes, it was unlikely we'd run into him on this one.
"Do you want to fish from shore or out in the canoe?" I asked Alyssa.
"Canoe," she said. "Please."
We all got in. Blues settled down, and I led us to a spot I'd found to be lucky in the past. When we got there, Alyssa set her paddle aside then slowly turned around to face me.
"Done this before?" I asked her before handing her the pole.
"Yes," she said. "Remember, my grandfather taught me. Then Caroline used to take me fishing long before she got me canoeing. But if I catch one, can you take it off the hook?"
I smiled and assured her I could.
We cast for a while, neither of us talking. Blues sat quietly, watching both of us.
I hooked the first fish. I pulled a small northern pike to the side of the boat, reaching down to pull it from the water, careful to avoid tipping the canoe. I unhooked it.
"That's a pike?" Alyssa asked.
"Yes," I said. "A small one. It's not hurt, so we'll let it go grow some more." But I let Blues take a look at it first before gently setting the fish back in the water.
Alyssa hooked the next fish. She hooked it carefully and brought it right to the side of the boat. I was able to pull it in and held it up.
"Walleye," she said.
"Yep," I said. "And a keeper. Sure you don't want to take it off the hook yourself?"
She smiled. "No thank you. Grandpa always did that. Then Caroline."
I unhooked her fish, put it on the stringer, and set it in the water to keep.
We didn't get any activity for a while.
"Caroline used to tease me about the fish," Alyssa said after a while. Her tone changed. "Afraid you'll break a nail, Alyssa? Afraid of fish slime under your nails, Alyssa?" Her tone changed back. "Oh god, I miss her."
"I know," I said quietly.
We had been out for a couple of hours before I snagged our last keeper. I pulled in a medium-sized smallmouth bass. Alyssa looked at it. "Walleye?"
"Close," I said. "Smallmouth bass. The fins are different." I pulled her walleye out of the water and compared the two fish. Side by side, the differences were clear. Alyssa nodded. I contemplated letting the bass go but decided fish for dinner sounded good.
Alyssa told me several more Caroline stories then finally asked, "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"
I looked away, pretending to busy myself with my line.
"I'm sorry," she said after a minute. "It's just that you're so amazing."
I looked back at her. "I'm nothing special," I said after a moment.
"Bullshit," she said. "You're kind and clever." She looked me up and down pointedly. "And a hottie."
I looked away again, uncomfortable with the compliments. "You're paying me to be kind," I told her eventually.
"More bullshit," she said. "You cried with me, over a woman you never knew. That by itself may be the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me."
"I had a girlfriend," I said. "Christine. We had been together for a couple of years. I loved her with all my heart."
"What happened?" Alyssa asked softly.
"She left," I said. "Told me I didn't do it for her anymore. I had just done it for her the night before, and she didn't have any complaints. But the next morning she told me in the coldest voice I'd ever heard that I didn't do it for her anymore. She packed her bags while I sobbed, begging her to stay, begging her to explain what I had done wrong. She didn't even hug me goodbye. Or do anything else to make it easier."
"I'm sorry," Alyssa said. "How long ago was this?"
"Two years," I said. "Grams died just a few weeks later."
"You had a shitty year," she said.
"Sounds like we both did," I replied.
"Yeah," said Alyssa, casting her line. "Been out since?"
"No," I said. "I moved up here a
nd took over the resort. It's not exactly a hotbed of lesbian love up here."
"You must get a lot of interested women coming through," Alyssa suggested.
I looked away, uncomfortable with that, and cast my line a few times. Alyssa didn't push. "Sometimes I get someone showing interest,” I explained. “But it's transitory. A little vacation fling, then back to their jobs. I usually pretend I didn't notice. There have been a few that have been more forward. Those are harder."
"You miss her that much?" Alyssa asked.
"No, not really," I said after thinking about it. "To be honest, she was probably doing me a favor. She hated coming up here. Absolutely hated it. If we had been together, I probably would have sold the resort. That would have been the biggest mistake of my life. My entire life has centered around this place. Everywhere I look are happy reminders of Gramps, Grams, my parents, my childhood. If Christine had made me choose, I would have chosen her, but it would have been a mistake."
"So why don't you accept the offers? Afraid to be hurt again?"
"Not like that," I said. "But I'm not interested in a casual fling, and it would be foolish to look for more than that from someone you know is leaving at the end of the weekend. And you know, I think I want to get to know someone as a friend before I lose myself in her again. I want to know she's worth my heart and that she'll treat it properly."
"I can understand that," Alyssa said. "I'm not done healing. It's been two years, and it's time to live again. I've been going through the motions. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for Blues." She bent down and hugged the dog for a moment. Alyssa looked at me. "It's time I start dating again."
"Alyssa," I said.
She smiled. "I wasn't hinting, Janis," she said. "Although I could do worse."
"But you're leaving at the end of the weekend."
She nodded. "Do you think we could be friends? Over the last two years, I've driven everyone away."
"I would love to be friends, Alyssa," I said. "Does that mean I have a place to stay when I come to the cities?"
She smiled. It was the first smile I'd seen from her. "Yes. Do I have a place when I come up?"
"Um. Sure," I said.
Her smile broadened. "I'm teasing. I will come up, but I will rent my room like anyone else. I imagine the resort is barely breaking even."
I stared at her. "How do you know that?"
"Because that's the way of resorts," she said. "What are your bookings like?"
That was a safe, if sometimes occasionally painful conversation. "In the summer, good. If I had more cabins, I could fill them, at least on the weekends, but I don't want the extra workload and staff required for that. I wouldn't mind more mid-week summer bookings, and winters are rough."
"You're open in the winter?"
I nodded. "The cabins are all winterized, but we rarely have more than one or two in use. The lodge is typically about a third full on a busy winter weekend and normally empty the rest of the time."
She nodded. "What are you doing for marketing?"
"Marketing?" I said. "Who can afford marketing? We have a web site."
"I saw it," she said. "It needs work."
I bristled at that. I'd done the website. Grams never touched a computer in her life. Alyssa noticed my reaction.
"Ah," she said. "Sorry. But it does."
"What is wrong with it?" I heard the defensive tone in my own voice.
Alyssa turned away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
I didn't say anything right away. We both cast our lines a couple of times. "Friends should be honest with each other," I said eventually. "Even when it's going to hurt."
"You did it yourself?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Do you have any professional design experience?"
"No. My undergrad is in sociology."
"Well," Alyssa said. "It's good for an amateur. You started with some basic template you found somewhere and added your own pictures and text?"
"Yes."
"And you're using some sort of free or cheap hosting service?"
"How could you tell?"
"The ads in the margins. Unless you're trying to make money by advertising your competitors."
She let me think about that. We really didn't have money for me to listen to the answer to the question I asked next. "Will I get more business if I hire someone to do a better website?"
"No."
I laughed. "Then why would I do it?"
"Pride?"
"I can't pay my employees in pride," I told her.
"Well, if you found the right person, you would do more than fix your website. Who is your competition?"
"You met him earlier," I said. "There are outfitters in Grand Marais and Ely, plus other resorts like mine."
"Wrong," she said. "Those people are your friends. Your competition is Door County and the Caribbean and everywhere else people go to vacation. The goal shouldn't be to divide the pie differently amongst the people up here, the goal should be to steal pieces of pie from other destinations."
I stared at her.
"Your competition is Sunday football and busy schedules and people who don't think they have enough time to get away for a long weekend. Your competition is the convention center in Minneapolis and the Twins and the Vikings. But really, do you think someone is going to be happier in life if he goes to a Twins game or if he brings his family up here?"
She was right. "But I don't know how to compete with all of that," I told her.
"That's okay," she said. "I do."
"I can't afford you," I said.
"We can trade," she said. "You said you're not full mid-week and rarely during off season?"
"But-"
"Now, what do you do for off season special events?"
"Special events?" I said. "Nothing."
"All right," she said. "I think I have a bite."
She did, but she lost it before she got it to the boat. Then my stomach growled, and we decided it was time to go prepare dinner.
* * * *
After dinner, Alyssa became more subdued. She was still engaged in conversation, but I could tell she was thinking about Caroline. "What would you do if she were here?" I asked.
"Fuck like rabbits," Alyssa replied crudely.
"Furry tails in the air?" I asked.
"Yes."
I felt a wave of heat from the look she gave me, centered in my crotch. The heat moved to my face, and I turned away, hoping Alyssa wouldn't notice. If she did, she didn't say anything.
"Or maybe we'd build a fire and tell stories," Alyssa said after a moment. So that was what we did.
I was relieved she didn't bring up rabbits again.
Later, when the bugs arrived, we climbed into the tent. Alyssa was still talkative, but eventually we both faded out.
I woke sometime later to her blowing her nose.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice cracking.
"It's all right," I said. I reached a hand out and clasped her shoulder, offering her what comfort I could. Blues was curled up next to her, too. She finished blowing her nose, then rolled to face me, clasping my hand. We fell back to sleep that way. When next I woke, my arm and shoulder were freezing, and I slowly withdrew my hand from her clasp to burrow back into my sleeping bag.
I hadn't wanted to let go. She was still grieving, so making a move on her would have been crude. But she touched me like no one had since Christine walked out on me. I went back to sleep saying the mantra over and over in my head. "She's leaving at the end of the trip. She's leaving. She's leaving. Don't fall in love, Janis. She's leaving."
By morning, we both had shifted, and I realized we were in a triangle shape with Blues at the base. I was rolled away from Alyssa, but I had shifted closer to her, and she had shifted closer to me, and she was breathing into the back of my neck.
I shifted slightly, and then I realized her hand was touching me, caressing the back of my neck. She
played with my hair.
"You've been kind," she said quietly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I said. "That feels nice." She's leaving, I told myself. She's leaving. Don't fall in love. Don't fall in love.
It was blessed torture to lie there while she played with my hair and caressed the back of my neck, but finally she sat up and declared, "I have to use the latrine."
I laughed. That sure broke the mood.
* * * *
I cooked breakfast and directed Alyssa how to pack our gear. She took care of our sleeping bags and pads, then took down the tent. I finished breakfast, and we ate quietly.
Soon we were stepping into the canoe. Alyssa, who had been smiling earlier, turned to me. "Janis?"
"Did you want to stop by before we leave?"
She nodded.
We paddled in silence, punctuated only the sounds of our paddles in the water and the water sliding underneath the hull of the canoe. It only took a few minutes to arrive back in the cove. I glided us to a stop. Alyssa didn't turn around.
"Caroline," she said in a clear voice. "I know you can't really hear me. I don't think I believe in an afterlife, and I don't think you did, either." She paused. "I will love you forever, Caroline. Even while I make room in my heart to love again, I will love you forever. Your ashes are here, but they weren't you. You're here, in my heart and my memories, and I will hold those forever."
Then she was silent, although she reached behind her to pet Blues. Then she leaned backwards and held out a hand to me. I reached forward and clasped it.
"Thank you, Janis," she said. "I am glad I didn't come alone. Caroline would have liked you."
"You're welcome," I said. "I think I would have liked her, too."
We sat like that, awkwardly stretching to hold hands, then she said, "I'm ready go now."
We released our touch and dug the paddles into the water.
Marketing
Alyssa didn't cry any further, although she had quiet moments, usually either right before or right after saying, "Caroline used to say..." or "Caroline would have..." I offered what comfort I could while I felt my emotions tipping over.