Chapter 33
It was just before seven and the morning was cool and clear. It was a reassuring and inviting way to begin a trek into the wilderness. We pulled into the gravel lot at the trailhead in the vicinity of Mount Shark. There were two other vehicles already parked there, and ours made the third in a row. I could see Elsie standing behind her pick-up truck, tinkering with something that was hanging off the open tailgate. The fourth person in our party was standing next to her, his pack on the ground at his feet, back turned to us, assisting Elsie by holding something in place while she worked to secure it.
We stepped out and moved to the back of the Jeep. Our packs were ready to go, they just needed to be pulled out and secured on our backs, which is a particular science, I learned: the proper placing of one’s pack for optimum comfort and ease of movement while trekking.
I was turned away, leaning over my pack, about to place my water bottle in a side compartment when Elsie came over to our vehicle to greet us and make the introductions with her counterpart.
“Gray Gregory, Ellie Mayne, I’d like you to meet Phil Boyens.”
I had been squatting over my pack and had my water bottle in my hand as I rose and turned to greet the new person, taking my turn after Gray. In one of my signature smooth moves I dropped my water bottle in the gravel as I got a good look and shook hands with the naturalist from New Zealand, who wore an unusual bracelet on his left hand ...
I just let the bottle roll away like I wouldn’t need it and smiled nervously at my other fiancé, or ‘Phil,’ as he would be known on our journey.
Gray leaned down to retrieve the escaping bottle and laughed as he teased me.
“That’s good thinking Ellie, getting any and all clumsiness out of your system right here in the parking lot.”
From my peripheral vision I could see that Gray was smiling at me as he returned the bottle to my hands. But I was caught in uncertainty as ‘Phil’ spoke to me. The words were clear, just articulated in a perfect Auckland accent, making the scene and accompanying soundtrack surreal and bizarre.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss. I understand from Elsie that congratulations are in order.”
He was like a different person. If I closed my eyes it would be almost bearable, sort of like the famous Kiwi director Peter Jackson was talking to me. But my eyes were stuck open. I hadn’t seen him in a day and a half and I felt huge relief followed by sudden and heavy trepidation. His opening statement had set the tone and I was convinced that things could only go downhill from here. I cheered myself with the idea that if the situation got too unbearable for me, I might be able to talk Elsie in to sneaking me out when their backs were turned.
All I could muster in reply was a very weak sounding “Thanks.”
And then I was back to pressing business with my water bottle and my pack.
Elsie filled in some details about Phillip Boyens.
“Phil is a naturalist from Kahurangi National Park. He’s here on a personnel exchange initiative to facilitate idea sharing in tourism impact strategies and wildlife management techniques. We’ll be comparing notes now and again, and taking a few short side trips, but we’re both more than happy to help out with the survey,” she informed us.
Phil added, “Yes, just let me know what I can do to assist and I’ll get on it. Even if it’s just carrying the rocks, I’m happy to do it,” he said to Gray, very genially.
To his credit, Ash was an excellent actor. He never went out of character, and listening to his conversations with Elsie and Gray from behind I would never have suspected that he was actually just an incredibly handsome and well-briefed imposter, here to keep an eye on me, and his claim, no doubt.
We loaded up and I experienced a bit of self-conscious unease as Gray and Elsie both tinkered with the straps on my pack, positioning it and then repositioning it until they judged that I was comfortable, instead of taking my word for it five minutes prior to fiddling with it.
“We were able to get her pack down to around fifty pounds after your fire sale inspection, so she should be good to go,” Gray said with a wicked grin.
Elsie laughed out loud at that, and I was feeling a little miffed about being at the brunt of a joke I didn’t fully understand. I had no idea how heavy my pack actually was, but fifty pounds sounded high, and I doubted I was carrying half my own weight on my back, though as the day progressed it certainly began to feel that way.
The trail we were on was a bit of a highway in backpacking terms. There were mountain bike tracks and horse shiate and dog prints in evidence along the open fire road path we were walking. Elsie was in the lead, followed by Phil who kept up a running conversation with her. I came next and Gray headed up the rear. He was being very kind and patient. My legs were considerably shorter than his and I knew he was greatly reducing his pace to stay close to me.
At regular intervals he would inquire about my pack or my feet or whether I needed a break, but I trudged on, determined not to hold up our progression any more than I already was.
After about two hours of mostly uphill trail we stopped at the edge of Bryant Creek where two tributaries fed into the stream from opposite directions. Gray removed his pack and indicated for me to do the same. We had reached our first survey point and it was time to do some rock collecting by the water.
After about thirty minutes combing up and down the bank, poking here and there and taking care not to completely submerge our boots, we finished up and Gray carefully labeled and stowed the specimens in a Ziploc bag in his pack. Then he pulled out some yogurt covered pretzels and shared a handful with me. We sat on a log for a couple minutes while we ate our snack. I looked around for the other two but they had moved on. He explained that we were going to catch up with them at a pond further ahead.
Gray was glowing with pleasure. He was in his element doing what he enjoyed and doing it with me. I loved seeing him so content and though my guilty feelings were never far or ever gone, it gave me pleasure to know that somehow my presence added to the happiness of this amazing person.
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 and 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, w
ith 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 another 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 hop
ing 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.
“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 advice 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 bac
k 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 before 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 sight 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.
“What does this mean?”
He wasn’t about to let me off the hook, no matter how much I ignored him.
“It means that I don’t want to lose my rings. The aquamarine is smaller and it fits better on my left hand. The bixbite fits fine on either hand. This way is more comfortable…for now.”
I tried to sound unapologetic.
“You only need to wear one ring, Ellie.”
There was an emotional edge to his tone, but I refused to look at him, worried he might convince me of something I didn’t believe.
“I know, Gray.”
I’d be lucky if anyone wanted me to wear his ring after this trip.