Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight

by Ann Mauren

He seemed slightly surprised, but he gave a short laugh of pleasure and said, “I’m glad you know your gems. It saves me the trouble of explaining the similarities between you and this little treasure. Though, all the descriptions would be interchangeable: perfect, pure, and priceless. I could be talking about you or the stone.”

  His eyes burned with sincerity as he spoke.

  I gasped for breath like I was being held under water. Then I started to take the ring off, but he stopped me with gentle yet irresistible finality, holding my right hand by the wrist.

  “Gray, I can’t wear this. I don’t want to be responsible for this. It should be in a museum. There are people who would bite my finger off for this!”

  He laughed with pleasure, totally blowing off my fears and insecurities.

  “Ellie, this isn’t ‘The One Ring.’ It was made in North Carolina, not Mordor. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll keep an eye out for Gollum,” he said as he made a show of looking over his shoulder.

  It was funny, but I couldn’t laugh. I still couldn’t breathe.

  “Besides, you can’t give back what’s already yours—it’s your inheritance.”

  He smiled like it was an inside joke.

  “Now what are you talking about?”

  He was speaking in riddles, it seemed.

  “Did you know that your Grandpa found a piece of bixbite?”

  “Yes?”

  “My dad told him about my hobby—ring design—and he sent the raw piece of bixbite to me, to have it cut and set, for you. In fact, I received the uncut stone the month before he died. It was ironic because I had already made a ring for you: a very rare aquamarine. But when this came along…well, I had to start over, but I’m glad I did. I knew this would mean more to you. It would represent the people who love you, who know that the real treasure…is you.”

  My mind had been racing hard to keep up with all the new information. Finally, it spun out. Everything I believed ten minutes ago had been knocked askew, like a curling stone pushed out of the bull’s-eye and off the course.

  Every single real thing I’d attributed to Ash had actually come from Gray. Who really knew me so well, and who was I truly in love with after all? This was a far bigger question than my rapidly collapsing mind would be able to contain or contend with. I was scrambling to get a handle on the moment, and on my feelings about my recently revised frame of reference.

  “So tell me about this other boy. Did you go to school with him?”

  I guess I should have seen that line of questioning coming.

  “No, he didn’t go to Eastern. He lives in my neighborhood, though.”

  Truth.

  I knew I had to tell the truth. It was already bad enough without lies to make it worse.

  “What’s his name?”

  Gray was all interested politeness.

  “Ash.”

  It felt strange to speak of him, especially to Gray.

  “No last name?” he asked, nudging me.

  “Why? Are you going to Google him?”

  The hackles were making another stand.

  “Just curious.”

  Gray was still emitting friendliness. When I didn’t answer he asked, “So, how old is he?”

  I shrugged.

  “You don’t know how old he is?”

  There was a strange undercurrent in his tone, something more than disbelief.

  “I didn’t card him when I met him, Gray. He’s older than me. So is everybody else. So what?”

  He seemed to consider my answer, though I couldn’t translate his expression. He dropped it and moved on.

  “What do you like about him?”

  I thought about how I would be enjoying this conversation if I were having it with Sam. Now it felt like I was walking on eggshells, or landmines. But I pushed ahead with the honesty, trying to be tactful.

  “Ash makes me feel very…happy and safe. He’s kind of serious. In fact he’s the only person I’ve ever met who’s easier to tease than me. It took a while, but he’s finally starting to understand my sense of humor now.”

  Gray raised an eyebrow and grinned, definitely in on the joke.

  I continued, “He’s a big reader, always suggesting books that I end up loving. He speaks several languages, so he can recite love poems to me in French and Italian, or just make some up, and I like that. He grew up in Australia, so he loves all the same Aussie bands and actors that I do.”

  I’d been watching Gray’s reactions to the things I’d said, but now I had to look away, back down to the lake.

  “He’d never dated anyone before me. He’s a virgin, like me, and very strict about keeping it that way until we’re married. I really like that.”

  “Wait a minute. You’ve already had a conversation about getting married?”

  The friendliness was completely gone.

  “Sure. It was one of the first things we talked about, in our first conversation, in fact. He was trying to explain his interest in me, and his intentions. It was nice to know going in that he had long-term commitment in mind.”

  Gray was lost in his thoughts for a very long time. I thought maybe he was done asking about it, and I was starting to feel relieved.

  “So, do you have plans to marry him?”

  The ‘All Clear’ was revoked. The sound of his question didn’t have that false sense of friendliness anymore, but Gray’s tone was still even, and in control. In fact, he was unnaturally calm and easy given the situation. I was afraid to answer his question, but my hesitation indicated the reply as clearly as if I’d actually spoken the words.

  He abruptly pulled me inside his arms and hugged me tight, kissing the top of my head, as though he were comforting me after I’d received tragic news, as opposed to being the recipient of such a declaration himself.

  “No!” he pleaded.

  It was heartbreaking. I thought about the wire crossing, about the patience and restraint he had shown on my behalf; about the perfect little ‘I Love You’ care packages he’d faithfully sent me, month after month, but received no credit for; about the time and effort he’d gone through to bring me here today; about the fabulous, priceless heirloom on my finger that confirmed my feelings for him and my feelings for my grandpa would somehow always be connected, brought together in platinum and diamonds and bixbite in a perfect fit.

  And I thought about the pinnacle of injustice: the engagement ring in my pocket; the one he had designed for me, which somehow his rival, employed for the chief purpose of keeping suitors at bay, had obtained and used to secure me!

  I was overwhelmed. The future I used to dream about with Gray at its core, the one I had mistakenly laid to rest in tears and pain, was now looking me in the face, here for an accounting of all my actions. Now it occurred to me that I might have engaged myself to the wrong person.

  How could this have happened? It was so unfair!

  As if he could hear the words as I thought them, he asked, “Is there any way you would be willing to reconsider your options, before you get married?”

  That was a far more generous request than I would have been able to make, if our positions were reversed. He had moved his face so that it was level with mine, just inches away, searching my eyes, desperately seeking the answer to his question.

  Just like always, the hot tears falling on my skin shocked me. Then my instinct, overpowering and undeniable, shocked me again. I grabbed Gray’s face and kissed him as hard as I could. That was silly though, because I didn’t really know what I was doing. Fortunately, Gray knew exactly what he was doing and I let him take over. It was far more intense and intrusive than a kiss from Ash, but then I guess their kissing styles were representative of their personalities.

  It felt horrible and heavenly at the same time. Horrible because I was breaking a promise to someone who loved me dearly, while enjoying every second of it. Heavenly because I was breaking that promise with someone who loved me dearly, who seemed to be enjoying every second of it as much as I was. />
  How could this possibly work out? We couldn’t all win. Someone’s loss would be my own and it would be very bad. There was no way for me to have complete happiness now, no matter what happened next. I realized that my behavior didn’t warrant happiness now, and it would quite likely spoil the happiness of whoever walked away with me. Maybe that was how it would be: no one got to be happy.

  After he’d had his way with me, in the way you might expect when out in the open with people coming and going every so often, and two Austrians about a quarter mile away on the other side of the lake facing our direction taking pictures…

  After my introduction to being kissed by Gray, he pulled me onto his lap, and I sat facing the water, recovering for a while. I felt intensely happy but immensely guilty. I was going to have to get myself together, especially my weak knees, if I wanted to maintain my status as a visitor and not a resident of this place.

  Just like at Lake Louise, I was surrounded by incredible beauty and managed to see nothing while I walked on autopilot, mostly hand-in-hand with Gray, up and out of the Lake Oesa basin to the trail that led back down to Lake O’Hara. It was very slow going. Every so often he would stop and kiss me again, holding my waist, or my shoulders or, most often, my face. The intense waves of pleasure followed by the agony of guilt was nearly too much for me. Gray probably thought I was a victim of first love, and in a sense, that was actually true.

  He was generally a good-natured, enthusiastic sort of person, and he was the same now, just turned up a couple of notches so that he was levitating slightly. I would have been like that too if the tremendous guilt I felt hadn’t been weighing me down, like heavy baggage. Or maybe the weight was from my own feet, dragging and stalling, trying to delay what I knew would be an impossible task: returning to the hotel and facing Ash.

  Every so often I would become aware that I was shaking and I would try to will myself to stop. The adrenaline and whatever other self-produced drugs flooding my system made me feel something more than just high. I felt a powerful desire to run away from Gray but also to hold him and kiss him. I wanted to cry and laugh, and then scream and sigh. I was a mess.

  While standing around in the parking lot waiting for the shuttle bus with the other hikers, Gray was very at ease and open with his affection for me, though it was far more toned down than it had been up at Lake Oesa. I squirmed around hoping he would get a clue, and knowing him, he probably did, but it didn’t translate into better behavior on his part. When I was too embarrassed to let him kiss me in front of other people any more, I turned my back on him and tried to step away, but he reeled me back in, holding me from behind in a warm inescapable hug around my arms just below the shoulders, with his chin resting on my head.

  By the time we made it back to the Jeep, I was mentally and physically exhausted, falling asleep before we had made it out of Yoho National Park. He woke me up with a kiss in the hotel parking lot at Banff. I was disoriented, thinking maybe I’d just had a scary dream, but his face on mine was proof otherwise.

  “It’s time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty. You can finish your nap upstairs. Come on.”

  I realized he was talking to me from my open door. He pulled me out of the Jeep, steadying me, and then he held me around the waist with one arm, similar to the other night, while carrying our things with his other hand.

  Just like on the trail, he took advantage of standing still to kiss me, as the elevator doors began to close. I was still so dazed and sleepy that I accepted this gladly, instead of nervously, as I should have, considering who could be watching. My conscience stung me belatedly over this, though it happened so quickly that I probably couldn’t have avoided it in any case.

  When we reached my door he used his copy of my room key card to let us in, and once again he entered his room through the adjoining door, leaving it wide open. I wasn’t about to go near the bed at this point, coward that I was, so I quickly retreated into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water once again.

  This time I chose a bath bomb called ‘Waving Not Drowning,’ though the reverse didn’t sound like a bad option either. The packaging promised to relax and soothe my soul like a field of lavender and suggested that I use it before bed to bring on sweet dreams.

  Speaking of bed, what was I going to do about that? I was absolutely certain that Gray wasn’t going to be following any set of rules in that regard, probably the opposite—unless I was brave enough to lay them down myself. Since I couldn’t remember ever having won an argument with him, and I had absolutely no clue how I would explain what I wanted, I knew I’d have my work cut out for me.

  While I was thinking through that dilemma, a new one presented itself in the form of a knock on the bathroom door.

  Really?

  “Ellie, can I come in for a minute?”

  But he didn’t wait for my answer as he opened the door and let himself in. I sunk down in the water, until everything below my chin was submerged, thankful for the cover that ‘Waving Not Drowning’ provided by clouding and coloring the water a bluish purple tint.

  He was polite—if that even applied, given the situation—and did not look at me directly. Instead he faced the mirror so I could see him while he talked to me.

  “You were asleep so I didn’t get to ask you what you wanted to do tonight. Do I need to make reservations downstairs, or do you want to go out somewhere in town, or would you rather have room service brought up?”

  I didn’t feel like dressing up or going out, but I was afraid of the third option for some reason. Being out of the bedroom while discussing the ‘rules’ seemed like a better idea to me.

  “Let’s find a pub to eat at tonight,” I suggested.

  “Okay. Did you want to finish your nap after your bath?”

  He sounded far too hopeful.

  “I’m kind of hungry. I’ll just finish up in here and then maybe we can go eat?”

  He seemed a little too disappointed now, though his words tried to make it appear otherwise.

  “That’s fine. Just come over when you’re ready. I’m going to take a quick nap.”

  But he didn’t leave. I noticed he was looking at the basket of bath products. I wanted to dive under the water completely as I realized which one of the bath bombs had caught his eye. It was jasmine scented and mostly pink with a swirl of purple and featured pink rice paper rose petals that would float on the surface of the pink bathwater once the rest of it was dissolved. But it was the name that was embarrassing me so badly.

  “Sex Bomb?”

  He smiled rakishly and turned around to look at me in the tub.

  “Saving this one for later, are we?” he asked as he held it up for me to see. “Which one are you using now?”

  I was trying to pretend he wasn’t there anymore. He bent down to pick up the wrapper on the floor next to the tub. He laughed out loud when he read it.

  “Waving Not Drowning. Well, I certainly hope so.”

  Then he turned to the place on the counter where the cream colored towels were neatly rolled and picked up two of them, spreading out the bath mat floor towel in front of the tub, placing the bath towels on a corner of it, touching the base of the tub, where they would be easy for me to reach once I stepped out.

  “I’m hungry too. Please don’t take too long.”

  And then I was alone again.

  We parked in the center of town and walked a few blocks down the main strip looking for a pub, though I had a feeling Gray knew exactly where we were heading. It was a pleasant evening, still chilly enough at night to wear a jacket, though. I liked that: wearing a jacket in June. Although I liked a warm day at the beach as well as anyone, my preference was for weather in the fifties. Rain or shine. I liked both.

  As we waited for our meals in a cozy high backed booth, which felt very private, I deliberated about which unpleasant topic to address first. I decided that laying down the rules when it came to bedtime was the priority.

  “Gray, I need to…ask you about something.”r />
  I was already mortified and I had barely begun.

  “I’m new at this relationship thing, but I was just wondering if you could … well, you know … tell me … your intentions … you know … towards … me?”

  There. I actually got it out.

  Of course, my eyes were glued to the table now. I didn’t have the strength to ask a question like that and look him in the eyes while doing it.

  He chuckled softly and reached across the table, lifting my chin with his hand, forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “Let me ask you something. Whose idea was it to stay virgins until you were married?”

  “It was Ash’s idea. I never thought that far ahead. I guess I’m an idiot.”

  I laughed nervously at myself. He shook his head in disagreement.

  “I think the word you mean is innocent. I love that about you. I’m in no hurry to change that, Ellie.”

  He was very sincere, no hint of teasing.

  “So you want to know my intentions? I guess you can’t read my mind can you? That’s probably just as well.”

  He smiled that rakish smile from the bathroom.

  “My intentions? Well, let’s see. I intend to marry you, when you’re ready for that. I intend to have fantastic adventures in far away places with you. I intend to be entertained by your amazing sense of humor. I intend to feel smug about having the most beautiful wife on Earth. I intend to be proud of the incredibly capable and loving mother of my children. And I intend to love you the only way I know how—forever.”

  The big splashes of tears bouncing off the table in front of me were, as always, a surprise. They seemed out of place considering the huge smile on my face. That had to be the most romantic thing I’d ever heard. It sounded like a scene from a movie; a scene that I would replay a thousand times because I loved it and wished someone in real life would say those things to me.

  As I was reflecting on his beautiful words he reached over to take my left hand, turning the ring this way and that. It was slightly loose, but not dangerously so. I was a fool if I thought I’d be size four forever. It was nice to have some room to grow, though I would probably take to wearing the ring on my right hand for a while since it fit more securely on that side.