"Except Old Faithful, by one." Annie was relieved that the silence between them was broken at last. She had been aware of Clay throughout the journey, and had surreptitiously been watching him. They had not talked much, just inconsequential comments about the scenery. Annie had been content to enjoy his company. That let her have time to examine her feelings for him.
What were they? She was undeniably attracted to Clay. He was comfortable to be with. He was good looking, though not classically handsome.
"We'll make it. It's barely ten. Look. Is that an elk?" Clay pointed at a meadow just ahead of them.
"Or a big deer. Oh! I can see five... no, six. Can we stop?"
Clay obligingly pulled onto the broad shoulder. "Binocs behind the seat."
Annie reached back and pulled them out. They both got a chance to view the elk before a group of tourists headed across the meadow, frightening the animals away. "I can't believe how dumb people can be. Those are wild animals. They could attack just as easily as running away."
"To the average tourist, this is just another big zoo, I guess," Clay replied in a tone far milder than hers. "A lot of people who come here have never seen an animal in its natural habitat."
"I know, but it's still dumb to go running after them."
"Did I argue?"
They saw no other wildlife and eventually reached Old Faithful. The parking lots were packed, but Clay eventually found a space.
Several of her cousins were standing on the lodge's wide porch. Behind them, in a peeled log chair, sat Gran. "Eric and Jennifer are supposed to be holding a table for us. Shall we go before they eat everything?"
Clay held out his arm to her grandmother, totally abandoning her. She couldn't decide whether to be piqued or amused. She followed with Owen, who walked in his usual withdrawn silence. Fine with me. I've got problems of my own. I don't need to worry about whatever's bothering you.
She stifled a small twinge of guilt. This was his first Gathering. He probably was feeling overwhelmed. Had anyone reached out to him? Or were they all leaving him alone, put off by his deliberately keeping them at a distance?
A huge log picnic table awaited them. Annie helped distribute the contents of three picnic baskets and two cardboard boxes, laughing at the look on Clay's face when he saw the abundance of food. She noticed that he did his share at depleting it, though.
"He doesn't seem intimidated," Ward observed, once they'd all filled their plates and found seats. Clay had been hijacked by Annie's mother and Aunt Joss, while she was stuck between Evan and Uncle Ward.
Annie watched Clay, as he laughing replied to something Aunt Joss had said. "No, he doesn't," Annie agreed. She compared Clay's behavior to Walter's the one time he'd come with her to a family Gathering. Clay won, hands down.
In her usual commanding way. Gran organized the whole family to view Old Faithful after lunch. She took Clay's arm, once again crowding Annie aside.
Clay looked back over his shoulder, his expression a plea for help. She just grinned at him. There was no stopping Gran when she was on a roll.
"Looks like you've got some competition," Evan said to her as he draped one arm across her shoulders.
"Only temporary. Besides, why should I consider Gran competition? He's just a friend."
"I think he'd like to be more. Are you ready?"
His concern triggered the ever-imminent tears. "Oh, Evan, I don't know. Sometimes I feel as if I'm finally healing, and then... Oh, God, I miss him so much!"
"Crap! I'm sorry Annie. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No." She caught his hand as he drew away. "It's okay. Honest. I've got to get past this. I'd give anything to...to just stop hurting."
"I guess it takes time."
"I guess it does. How much time, I wonder."
Again his arm went around her shoulders. "As much as it takes. If you're starting to have times when you don't hurt, then I'd say you're on the road to recovery. When I was home in March, you still seemed like walking wounded."
"How'd you get so wise?"
"Me? I'm not wise. I've just learned a lot in the past few years. Some of my friends are HIV positive. I watch them live with that knowledge and I've seen a lot of them grow stronger because of it. They've taught me that life is to be lived every single day." He stopped walking, pulling her to a halt. "Annie, the other night, when Aunt Joss..." His voice, usually strong an confident, was thin, uncertain.
She looked up at him, her favorite male cousin. They'd been playmates, she and Hetty and Evan, when they were young. Walter had not liked him and had complained if she met Evan for lunch whenever he visited Portland. Eventually she'd found it easier to be too busy when Evan called. As a result, she hadn't seen him, other than at Calvin's funeral, for nearly four years. Now she saw lines in his face, shadows in his eyes, that hadn't been there before. She saw pain, but also a sort of peace. "You're not...?"
"HIIV positive. No. And I am being very careful, believe me. Ma asked me if I was seeing anyone when I got here. I could tell she was scared."
"She probably is. Even knowing you're careful, I worry. And now, with you going to Africa... Can you blame us?"
His shrug said he couldn't.
"Actually," Annie said after a few steps, "you may have more immediate worries. Aunt Joss isn't good at keeping things to herself."
"You mean Eric and Jennifer?"
Annie gave him a rueful smile. "I never have understood how someone like Eric could have been born in this family. Hetty and I used to wonder if maybe your mother had brought the wrong baby home from the hospital."
"Until he grew up to be the spitting image of Pa. Hard to figure, isn't it." He stepped to the side of the trail to let a gaggle of chattering girls go past. "We're going to miss the show if we don't hurry. Just remember, if you need to talk, a shoulder to cry on, or some really bad advice, I'm your man."
"I knew that. I've always known that. Thanks, Evan. I love you."
"Me too. You." He grabbed her hand and pulled her along the trail. They walked, swinging their hands as they had as children, and for a brief time, Annie felt almost as carefree as she had back then.
Chapter Sixteen
The group split up after the Old Faithful eruption. Clay and Annie headed out along an unpaved trail to see Solitary Geyser, which Clay had never visited. When they arrived back at the Firehole River bridge, they decided to go on to Morning Glory Pool, stopping to see all the sites along the way. Annie found him good company, undemanding, easy-going, and not compelled to fill each moment of silence with chatter.
"When Gran and Gramps used to come here there were no boardwalks or paved paths. People just walked anywhere," she commented, as they paused to watch Plume Geyser. "It doesn't look as natural now, but it's got to be a lot easier on the soil."
"I guess when you have as many people as this, you've got to manage them. But I'd have liked to see this place before it got developed."
"Me too."
Her hand slipped naturally into Clay's as they continued their stroll. How much brighter the world seemed today than it had for a long time. She was sure the difference came from within her, not from the vivid colors around her. Laughter bubbled in her throat, seeking release.
I wish I could hold on to this, she thought. I wish it would last. She knew it wouldn't. When the Gathering was over and she went back to Boise, when she was alone night after night, she'd start thinking, and slide back into the melancholy mood that had held her captive for so long.
Clay pulled her to a halt. She looked where he was pointing. A ground squirrel was being tempted by a peanut in a child's hand. The little boy was about two, with tousled brown hair and round, pink cheeks. About the age Calvin had been... She waited for the familiar pain.
Instead of overwhelming grief, delicious warmth suffused her body when Clay slipped an arm around her waist. Was this so wrong, this response to him? She returned his smile, even as she resolved to talk to Gran as soon as she had a chance. Maybe she could
help in the sorting out of feelings that were at once exciting and confusing.
The chipmunk finally made his move, snatching the peanut out of the child's hand. The little boy jumped to his feet, crowing in joy, clapping his hands, chattering a mile a minute in a language only a two-year-old could speak. Clay laughed out loud.
"I know I should disapprove," Annie told him, as they walked on. "Feeding the critters is a bad idea. But he was so cute."
"The kid or the chipmunk?"
"Both, of course. Oh, listen! What's that?" The noise she was hearing was almost like an animal's roar, yet deeper and lasting longer.
A man just ahead of them turned around. "It's Lion Geyser. It's going to erupt."
It did indeed, and Annie and Clay stood, watching, until it had finished its show. After that, they strolled on, stopping at geyser after geyser. Some were sputtering, some were silent, inactive holes in the ground.
After duly admiring Morning Glory Pool, Clay suggested they go on to Biscuit Basin. Annie agreed, more because she didn't want this time with him to end than anything. She'd forgotten that her favorite thermal feature, the Fountain Pain Pots, were there.
"You know, women pay a lot of money in fancy salons for facial mud packs," Clay commented later, as they watched the mud, in all shades of yellow, boil and roil.
"We should get a concession to bottle this and sell it. We'd make a fortune." She wrinkled her nose as she caught a whiff of the steam. "All we'd have to do is tout it as being full of Vitamin S."
"What's vitamin S?"
"Sulfur, but we wouldn't tell them. It would be our secret ingredient."
"You are sulfur of nonsense, I ought to pot you one."
Annie wracked her brain for a pun to top his, without results. She pretended to ignore him for a few minutes, but soon her glance was caught by his twinkling eyes. She grinned in response, enjoying the mild glow that seemed to be a permanent state whenever she was with him.
I wonder how he kisses, when he's serious about it. Does he pucker, or is he more the nibbling kind? I'll bet he doesn't just shove his tongue in and out. He'd be more subtle.
Once again slipping her hand into his felt like the most natural thing in the world. All the way back to Morning Glory, they walked in silence. For her, at least, there was also peace and contentment.
They had just crossed the Firehole River again when he pointed. "Hey! Look at that geyser!" A huge spout of water was erupting from an irregular cone.
"Who are you calling a guy, sir?"
Clay grabbed her and tickled, until Annie begged for mercy. By the time she escaped him and conquered her giggles, the geyser had stopped spouting.
On their way back to the parking area, Annie said, "I think I'm suffering from geyser overload. At first it was a thrill, but now--"
"Now it's sort of 'you've seen one geyser, you've seen them all', isn't it?" Clay shook his head. "I hate to admit it, but that's sort of how I feel too."
"You know what would be fun? To live close enough that you could come up here often and see just one or two of the geysers each time. Then the wonder wouldn't turn into ennui."
He turned to stare at her. "You'd like to live nearby? It's a long way from the city."
She paused to pick a candy wrapper off the boardwalk. "I wouldn't miss the city if I could go for a visit every six months or so. These past few years I've had my fill of city life."
"Let me have that." Clay took the wrapper and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. "Have you ever lived in the country?" He felt like holding his breath while he waited for her answer.
"We never actually lived in town when I was growing up. Our place was a little over five acres, along the Tualatin River south of Lake Oswego. It wasn't exactly country, but it sure wasn't city. What I'd like, what I'd really like, is to live somewhere there are seasons besides wet and dry. That's one reason I moved to Boise, after...after my divorce."
"Boise isn't country, either." Unsurprised, but pleased that she'd actually told him something about her past, Clay wondered what else he would discover about her today. The next instant he told himself firmly that he wasn't in any position to care one way or another. I've got enough on my plate. I can't let this go beyond a summer romance. If that.
"I'm working on that." She didn't say anything else as they walked the last half mile to the parking area. It was nearly five and time to head back. Clay dug a couple of sodas out of his cooler, handed her one.
The car next to his pickup sat crooked in its space, and he had to do some fancy twisting to get into his door. Once seated, with his seatbelt in place, he said, "Or we could stop for dinner somewhere on the way."
"Gran and Mom know I'm with you, I don't think they'd be concerned if I didn't show up for dinner. But only if you'll let me buy."
"No way!"
"Clay, you did the driving, provided the gas. The least you can do is let me buy your dinner."
"I invited you. That makes it my treat."
* * * *
Ward was waiting for his mother on the front porch of the Big House when she returned from the Yellowstone expedition. He motioned her inside, and she followed him down the hall and through the kitchen. "I haven't much time. I want to get moved while Joss is in the shower," She chuckled. "I'm excited, It's been years since I've been to a sleepover."
"Tell me that again in the morning."
He opened the door to the sun porch for her and waited until she'd seated herself on the wicker couch. "I found Les," he said. "It was easy. Getting to talk to him might be more difficult."
"Oh? How so?"
"I didn't make the connection", he said, lowering himself into a chair facing her. "Serhilda just called him Les, and I'd forgotten his last name. Even when she told me, it meant nothing. Mom, Les is Les Champion."
She frowned in thought. "I've heard that name...oh! The actor." The frown deepened. "Oh, dear, that does complicate matters, doesn't it? I imagine his privacy is well protected."
"It sure is. I've been trying all day to get through the wall of protection. No dice." Swiping a hand across his mouth, Ward grimaced in frustration. "His partner--Brian Silverman--wasn't available. Or wasn't taking calls. I've decided the only way she is going to see him is if I take her down there. Together we may be able to storm the walls."
"Frances will have a fit."
"Frances doesn't have much to say about it. It's a little late for her to start making mothering noises. I'm going to see that Serhilda get a chance to say goodbye to the man who's been her father in all but blood "
His mother's smile was all he could have hoped for. "Go for it then. I'm behind you every inch of the way."
* * * *
"Elaine, wait a minute. I want to talk to you."
Elaine waited while Jennifer caught up with her. "Problems?"
"Oh, no, not really, I just wondered..." She chewed her lower lip, not quite meeting Elaine's gaze. "Well, what Gran said. I was wondering how you felt about it." The last sentence came out in a rush.
"How I feel about it? Why should I feel anything about it? It's Hetty's life, and it's not as if she's a kid. She must be getting close to thirty-five." Janice whimpered in her sleep. Elaine's arms were starting to ache from holding her. "Look, Jennifer, it's late and she's heavy. If you've a problem about Hetty bringing her boyfriend here, take it up with her. It's none of my business."
"I will. It may not matter to you, but I certainly don't want my children exposed to that kind of immorality. It seems to me that the least Hetty could have done was take her lover to a motel somewhere, instead of imposing on her family like this."
"Whatever. Look, I'm tired and Janice weighs a ton. I'll see you tomorrow." Without waiting for Jennifer to reply, she headed down the path to the Pink House. That kind of immorality, indeed. What would she say if she knew that Ma and Pa had lived together for two years before they got married? I'll bet Eric never told her about that.
* * * *
Once they were on the road, Clay s
aid, "I promised your father I'd have you home by ten tonight."
"Oh, no! Did he come on all protective father with you?"
"A little, I suppose. Can't say that I blame him, though. I'd probably feel the same way about my daughter."
He heard her indrawn breath. "Your daughter? Do you--"
"Not yet. Someday, I hope. I'd like to have a bunch of kids, raise 'em out here in God's country."
Annie shifted so she was leaning half against the door. "Do you know, I still don't know much about you, other than you love to fish. Oh, yes, you live in Portland. You've met most of my family and I don't even know if you have one."
He kept his eyes on the road as he said. "My parents are both gone. I was an only child. One grandmother is still living, but in frail health. I work... I used to work in a bank. Right now I'm between jobs."
Clay decided, as he inched along with the slow traffic, that it was safe to share his dream with her. Would she call it irresponsible, as others had?
"My granddad taught me to fish. His dream was to live somewhere he could step out of his back door and cast his line. Give him a long weekend, he'd be off to a trout stream. He fished the Deschutes a lot, because it was close to Portland. But when his vacation rolled around, he'd come here, or to Silver Creek, or maybe up to Montana, around Three Forks." A memory came, one that made him chuckle. "Granny always went with him, bringing her knitting. She kept the whole neighborhood in sweaters, all knitted while Granddad fished. "
"She never fished?"
"Oh, sometimes she would, but it wasn't a passion for her. Just something to do with Granddad. She always went with him, though. I remember her sitting on the bank in her folding chair, cooler full of sodas on one side of her, knitting bag on the other. She always wore a wide-brimmed sunhat, usually decorated with bright flowers."
Annie smiled at the love in his voice. "So he taught you to fish?"
"He taught me to love to fish. Dad never quite approved. He urged me to get an education, to do something worthwhile with my life. So did everyone else." Clay grimaced, remembering the sense of loss he'd experienced when he'd made the decision to relegate fishing to hobby status and gone straight from college to the bank.
A Strange Little Band Page 17
