Red Paws Inn

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Red Paws Inn Page 14

by Robin Roseau


  “Right,” I said. “Really?”

  “Try it,” she said. “What’s the worst that happens?”

  “I land in the sand.”

  “It’s a nice day to visit the beach.” Bernice smiled.

  “I can hit it too hard and run off the other side.”

  “You can, and that’s at least as likely,” she agreed. “Trust your body. You want to land on the green, the first few yards, but don’t cut it close.” And then she did something she probably shouldn't have, but she did it anyway. She walked around the sand and tossed a quarter onto the green. “Try to hit that.”

  I stared at her for a minute, then I looked at the quarter.

  And I grabbed my seven-iron.

  I didn’t rush myself. I took three practice swings. Bernice didn’t say a word. And then I stepped forward, paused, then gave the ball a little pop. I caught it squarely. It flew up. It came down. No, I didn’t hit the quarter. I missed it by at least two yards. But the ball landed on the green, and when it came to a stop, it was ten feet from the cup.

  I stared for a while before I put my club back in the bag and pulled out the putter. Then I watched Alyssa take two strokes to get out of the sand.

  Bernice was long. Her first putt left the ball three feet from the hole, which she would tap in later. Alyssa also two-putted, split by my turn.

  I stepped up to the ball and tried to read the green. Bernice stepped to my side and slid her arm around my waist again. “It’s gently uphill,” she said. “It’s going to break very slightly to the right, but only about an inch, if your distance is correct, or not even that if you’re a little strong. I’d play it straight.”

  I nodded. I carefully lined up. And then I watched as my ball headed straight for the hole. It carried extra power and hit the back of the cup, bouncing up, and I was sure I was about to two-putt. But then it dropped back into the hole. I stared at it.

  “Nice par,” Bernice said.

  “My first,” I whispered. “Well, on a real course.”

  “Well done,” she said. Alyssa putted out, and we headed for the next hole.

  * * * *

  I hadn’t suddenly become a golfing expert. Alyssa’s drives were consistently about as far as her mother’s, although Bernice was more accurate. I didn’t have a single drive that matched Bernice for length. But instead of consistently being 75 yards shorter, I was perhaps 35 yards shorter. That came at a cost of accuracy, and I had a few really bad shots. But those weren’t as common as I feared.

  That one hole was my only par for the day, but it still felt good, and at least in part due to Bernice’s coaching, I probably shaved five or more strokes from my score for the day.

  But more importantly, Bernice made it fun. I could tell Alyssa was surprised by that. They clearly had golfing history, and I thought Alyssa was just waiting for the shoe to fall.

  But Bernice made a point of putting her arm around me. She made a point of mentioning what a lovely day it was. She made a point of telling both of us how much she enjoyed being on the course with us.

  After the round was over, we headed for the clubhouse. Bernice was all smiles, and when she saw someone she recognized, she said, “Ettie, have you met my daughter?”

  “I don’t believe I have,” said the other woman.

  “Ettie, this is Alyssa and her girlfriend, Janis. They’re in from Minnesota.”

  We exchanged pleasantries, and then the hostess led us to a table in the dining room. Alyssa gave her mother a long, hard look, but she didn’t say anything, and Bernice pretended not to notice. Instead she turned to me. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “Bernice, I had a lovely time.” I considered for a moment and then said, “Are you always like this?”

  “Cheerful?”

  “I suspect you know what I mean.”

  She glanced at her daughter then turned back to me. “I can be pretty serious about my golf, but today was about having a nice time.”

  “Was that for my benefit?”

  “Some,” she admitted. “And some because, while it doesn’t happen often, sometimes my daughter is right, and I’m wrong.” Alyssa snorted at that. I smiled.

  “And in this case?”

  “I have driven Alyssa hard on many things,” Bernice admitted. “And the golf course may be one of the worst. I believe the last time we left a course together, she asked me why I even invited her if I hated golfing with her so much. She was wrong to think I hated golfing with her, but I thought long and hard about that, and she was otherwise right. I was certainly giving her that impression.” She turned to Alyssa. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Alyssa stared at Bernice for a long time. I said nothing, but I really wondered if Bernice was putting on a show for me. Finally Alyssa said, “This is the first time I’ve enjoyed golfing with you. It was a lovely day. Thank you, Mother.”

  “You’re welcome. If the bitch comes back sometime, remind me of this conversation.”

  Alyssa snorted again. “Count on it.”

  “Good.” She turned back to me. “If you make a habit of coming down, then I’d like you to spend some time with a pro. She’ll be a better teacher than I am. I take it your resort doesn’t have a course.”

  “No. People don’t come to the Boundary Waters to go golfing. I have a stable instead.”

  “I don’t imagine they come to the Boundary Waters for horseback riding, either.”

  “No, but families stay at the resort, and having the horses gives the kids one more thing to do. We don’t keep a big string, but even then, horses eat a lot, and they represent a loss for us. But it’s something none of the other resorts do, so we get rentals we wouldn’t otherwise get, and it’s also a point of conversation. ‘You went to that place with the horses.’”

  “Oh, I can see that,” Bernice replied.

  “We’re not on a prize lake for fishing, but there are fish, and it’s a good entry point to the Boundary Waters. Or you can do day trips, if you don’t want to sleep on the ground, and we’re a full outfitter.”

  “They do guided trips, too,” Alyssa said. “Janis’s top employee’s boyfriend is a science teacher.”

  “Ted runs amazing trips,” I explained. “They’re quite popular.”

  We had a drink and a nice snack. Later, when we were alone, I asked Alyssa about it.

  “An act?” she asked. “No. Mom isn’t like that. I think she was heartfelt.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “That’s a good thing.”

  But she looked away. Finally, I asked, “What?”

  She turned back and said, “I only wish we’d had a conversation like that fifteen years ago.”

  “Lost time,” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re both doing well, right?”

  “Yeah. Janis, do you like it here?”

  “I do. Your parents are treating me well, the weather is nice, and there are things to do.”

  “So you would come back?”

  “Of course, Alyssa, but you know how things are at the resort.”

  “It would have to be on the right schedule.”

  “Exactly.”

  She smiled. “Come to bed.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Conversations

  Over the next several months, Alyssa and I had a variety of conversations that held little specific significance to me, and it is only in hindsight I realized she was planning what would happen next. She stayed at The Red Paws Inn about half time, and of the other half, I went to The Cities with her for about a third of her time away from the inn. We became increasingly comfortable with each other.

  As for the sex… it was good, really quite good, and the first of the conversations, or the first that I related to What Happens Next came up in bed. “Come up here,” Alyssa ordered, still panting.

  I laughed and worked my way up her body. She pulled me in for a kiss, and I knew she’d be tasting herself on my lips. Then
she pushed me onto my back beside her before rolling against my side, her head on my shoulder. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, and I thought perhaps she was falling asleep. I considered shoving her out of the bed, telling her it was her turn to let the dogs in.

  Oh, they weren’t outside, just out in the living room, disgusted they weren’t allowed in the bedroom when we were getting frisky.

  But then Alyssa rolled out of the bed without my prompting. She let the dogs in and headed for the bathroom. I laughed as Flapper took her spot on the bed, but when she got back, she just said, “Flapper, out of my way.” My dog grunted her disapproval, but we all shifted around until we were all properly in our places on the bed, two of us under the covers and three more atop them.

  “We need a bigger bed,” Alyssa said.

  “A king wouldn’t fit in here.”

  “I suppose not,” she said. “I love it here, Janis.”

  “I’m glad. I love having you here, Alyssa.”

  And that was that.

  * * * *

  The next conversation was equally innocuous, and I thought little of it. It was a nice, sunny winter day, cold, but there was no wind, and we were taking the dogs for a romp. “It’s like the entire lake is yours,” Alyssa said with a gesture. “No other cabins.”

  “There are a few, but the nearest is nearly a half mile that way.” I gestured west.

  “A half mile. Do you own all the land in between?”

  “No. About half of it. The people who own that cabin own the other half. They use it for hunting land. During deer season, I keep a much closer rein on the dogs.”

  “Ouch,” she replied. “Yeah, I can see that. So how much land do you have?”

  I pointed. “Do you see that tree? The exceedingly large spruce right near the water?”

  She followed my gaze. “I think so.”

  “The property line is another seventy feet from that tree. There’s actually a marker, but you’d never find it in the winter.”

  “And the other way?”

  “We’re much closer to the property line on that side, but it’s state land after that.”

  “Ah. Still. That seems like a lot.”

  “Seventeen-hundred feet of shoreline, and it extends all the way to the road. Not quite two hundred acres.”

  “Is that a lot?”

  “What’s a lot?” I asked. “A good-sized lot in the cities is at most a half acre, and most are smaller than that. A traditional farm field is forty acres, but farms in Minnesota are often a section.”

  “What’s a section?”

  “A square mile.”

  “Ah. So it’s not a farm, but it’s a good chunk of land.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And how much are you actually using?”

  “Well, if you collapsed all the buildings into one big building, it doesn’t seem like much.”

  “But spread out?”

  “If you drew a rectangle around it, from the stable to the water, and from the furthest cabins, about thirty-five acres.”

  “So you have room for expansion, if you wanted.”

  “Yes, and I might build a few more summer-only cabins, but I don’t want to take out a loan to do it. And I don’t want to add too much or we’ll lose our charm.”

  “That makes sense,” she replied.

  And, for now, that was that.

  * * * *

  March arrived. We, of course, were still buried in snow, and March brought more. Alyssa got herself snowed in, which was just fine with everyone. We were in the lodge, a fire going, and hot cider to drink, when the next conversation came up. Jenna and Ted were there. Ted was grading papers. Jenna was reading. I was doing paperwork, and Alyssa was working on something for a client.

  “Are there construction companies up here?” Alyssa asked.

  “Sure,” Ted said. “There are several in Grand Marais. But it can be hard to get on their schedule. There are smaller firms, a couple of brothers, that sort of thing, and they can do good work, but they can be unreliable.”

  And that was all I heard of it for months.

  A Conversation

  “I’ll pay you.”

  “Is that how you say hello?” I asked, getting up and running around the counter. Alyssa and I hugged and kissed and kissed and hugged. “I thought you weren’t due this weekend.”

  “I’ll pay you,” she said. “I want you to take me back there.”

  I knew where she meant. “You don’t have to pay me,” I said gently.

  “I already talked to Jenna. Her mother will fill in. You’d have to pay her.”

  “I’ll take you,” I said. “But I don’t want you to pay me.”

  “All right,” she agreed. “Could we leave in the morning?”

  “Of course,” I said. “But the weather is going to be lousy.”

  “I went to REI and bought some gear,” she replied. “I’ll be fine if you will be.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. I grinned. “Are you going to make me camp outside again? We’ve already seen a few mosquitoes.” It was mid-May so at least the little vampires weren’t horrible yet.

  She laughed. “Not this time. But I want you to show me how to find the same place. I want to do that part alone.”

  “Alyssa.” I said her name slowly.

  “It’s fine. I’m being silly. I just want to talk to her. I tried doing it at home, but it doesn’t feel like she’s there, you know?”

  I tried not to tear up, but I nodded. “Of course, if you promise you aren’t doing something stupid. You can’t leave me two days away without a canoe, you know.”

  “Oh, Janis,” she said. “I wouldn’t do something like that.” She paused. “I didn’t even think you might worry about that. No, nothing like that. I just want to talk to her a little. Alone. I know she can’t hear me, but you know what it’s like. I hear you talking to your Grams sometimes.”

  “Yeah. I understand, Alyssa.”

  “Thank you, Janis.”

  * * * *

  We left early the next morning. Jenna had everything ready for us. It was a dreary day, and even Blues wore a rain jacket, which looked really silly. But she was, as always, a good dog, sitting quietly and watching the lake go by.

  Alyssa’s mood seemed inconsistent. She had something on her mind, and I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t pry. She spent part of the time talking randomly about almost anything, and then she grew very quiet, and we simply paddled.

  Alyssa had gotten a lot of experience paddling with me, and while it was dreary, there was no wind, so the canoe moved easily. The portages were muddy, but we made it to Beatrice by mid-afternoon, and I looked out at the lake, Alyssa standing beside me.

  “Are we staying here?”

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It would take us forever to go along the shore.”

  “We went across the middle last year, but it was morning.”

  “You were done in, and I didn’t want to cross in the wind, especially not with a dog in the canoe.”

  “Are there campsites near the portage to Nestor?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It’s up to you,” she told me. “I’m fine for a few more hours.”

  “Let’s cross and see how we feel.”

  “Sure.”

  We got settled. Alyssa put Blues into a down-stay. The dog didn’t look comfortable, but she was a good dog. Alyssa talked to her quietly, and I heard her say something about warming up to a fire. I wondered if we’d have that option, although there were tricks to finding dry wood even when it’s wet.

  We pushed away from the portage and headed across the lake.

  * * * *

  “I think I’m done,” Alyssa announced as we approached the opposite shore.

  “I’ll find a place.”

  Given the weather, I wouldn’t say we were lucky, but we hadn’t seen a soul on the lake, and the campsite closest to the Nestor portage was free. It was
n’t my favorite campsite, but it would do. Together, we unloaded the canoe. Also together, we set up the tent and the extra rain fly Jenna had sent with us. That was work, but we got it set up, and then Alyssa set to drying off Blues while I worked on a fire.

  I didn’t find much, but I found enough wood for a while. I got the fire going and then, while we warmed, I set up the cook stove. We had warm cider and a hot meal. Alyssa was quiet, and Blues seemed subdued as well, staying close by Alyssa’s side most of the time.

  We had dinner and cleaned up with minimal conversation. Then she looked up into my eyes. “Janis, maybe we could read for a while. Would you like to hold me?”

  “I’d love to hold you.”

  And so we moved to the tent, both of us stripping out of most of our clothing and changing into fresh. We got Blues settled on her own pad, still dry thanks to Jenna’s careful packing.

  We made a little nest for ourselves and then cuddled in. Alyssa felt good to hold. We both read for a few minutes until I asked her, “Are you all right, honey?”

  She turned her head and kissed my shoulder. “I’m fine, Janis. You don’t need to worry. I promise.”

  “Your moods.”

  “Just something on my mind, but nothing bad. I promise. I’ll tell you all about it when we get back. Will you go on a date with me?”

  I laughed. “I’d love to.”

  “Good, because I already made all the arrangements. You’re going to dress in your best for me, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.”

  And so, we read, and we did some touching, but we didn’t make love, not that night. I think after spending a day of being wet, neither of us had it in us. But it was so nice holding her, and it was comforting having Blues so close, too. I wished that Henry and Flapper were better in the canoes, but they were terrible, and no attempts to train them helped. I think Flapper especially enjoyed tipping us over, as it meant she got to go swimming.

  * * * *

  “Good morning,” Alyssa said. “It’s still dreary, but it’s supposed to burn off by early afternoon. I’d suggest we stay right here, but do you think we could get going?”

  “Of course.”

  And so it was a half hour later that we were back in the canoe, paddling for the portage. We made it without incident to Nestor, and then Alyssa said, “Let’s try for the island, but if we have to camp somewhere else, as long as it’s not too far from our cove, that’s fine.”

 

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