Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight

by Ann Mauren

  “It’s on loan. It all belongs to a friend back home in Louisville,” I explained.

  “Louisville? As in the Derby City?”

  She even pronounced it correctly with me, saying it like the locals: Loo′ – uh – vul.

  “That’s the one. Have you been there?” I was enthused.

  “A couple of times. I was at the Derby when Big Brown won a few years ago. And I went down last year with my boyfriend to the Kentucky State Fair to watch him show his Arabians. He won first place.”

  This was punctuated by a big smile of remembrance and pride.

  “Wow. That’s really cool.” I thought about how if it had been any other year besides the most recent, I probably would have seen those Arabians myself. The equine competitions were among my mom’s favorite features of the Kentucky State Fair, which we always attended together, and never missed, except for last summer, when I’d misplaced my will to live. Scenes of animals, quilts, farming exhibits and tractor pulls were among the earliest memories I possessed.

  “It really was. But driving the damn horses from Calgary and back…” she shook her head, “not cool. I’m never doing that again,” she said and laughed.

  Elsie had created a ‘pack’ and a ‘pitch’ pile in front of my stuff. I was alarmed at the items that I had considered most critical which had landed in the pitch pile, namely deodorant, soap and shampoo.

  She explained that part of bear safety is making sure you don’t smell too good or interesting. An antiperspirant was fine if it was unscented, and soap and shampoo needed to be nearly scent free, especially in my case with all my hair, which holds more smell.

  So my vanilla body wash and piña colada scented shampoo were dangerously unacceptable.

  “You can borrow my stuff,” she offered.

  Though she assured me the tent I had was world class, it landed in the pitch pile too because we didn’t need the extra tent or the extra weight it would put on my pack.

  “Besides, you’ll be with me in the girl’s tent, right?”

  I automatically looked at Gray, just now realizing that he probably had other ideas about that. To my chagrin, he seemed amused that I would question her statement so quickly, and he smiled at me, confirming my translation of his expression. There was an awkward pause as Elsie looked between us, when I didn’t answer her right away.

  Then Gray spoke up.

  “I didn’t make the proper introductions before. Ellie is my fiancée and we’d prefer to sleep together, if it’s all the same to you.”

  The rakishness was turned up full blast. That got my heart going and I turned away to be suddenly very occupied with my now mostly empty camping toiletry bag, trying to hide the blush that was all the way up to my hairline.

  I thought we talked about that.

  I wasn’t sure if I could make it through that particular conversation a second time around, and especially not at camp!

  After a surprised and hastily made offer of congratulations, Elsie got back to the inspection. Holding a Nalgene water bottle up she asked, “Was your friend in the Eco-Challenge?”

  How did she guess that?

  My look of surprise must have been clear. She turned the bottle around to show the picture on the front of the container. It was the logo for the Eco-Challenge Fiji Adventure Race, produced by the same fellow who would go on to create a popular Survivor reality game show.

  “You can’t buy these,” she explained. “They were a special gift for the contestants only. I know that because my brother has one just like it.”

  What were the chances of that? It was turning into six degrees of Hayden Christensen. If Gray knew George Lucas or the Emperor as business contacts the circle would be complete.

  Just then my phone vibrated. I pulled it out to look. It was a text message.

  Sorry I’ve been out of touch.

  See you soon.

  I love you Ellery Mayne.

  It was reassuring to get an apology, information about when I could expect to see him again, and a confirmation of his affection all in less than fifteen words—very efficient.

  I had mixed and opposite emotions about the prospect of seeing Ash again soon. I wanted to see him. I ached to see him. But I was afraid to see him. I had no idea what he might ask me or what I might say. If he really loved me he probably wouldn’t kill me for accepting Gray’s ring. And despite what Gray had just told Elsie, accepting it did not mean that we were now officially engaged. I specifically evaded giving Gray a straight answer on that issue, though apparently I was the only one of us who saw it that way.

  Gray and Elsie sat at the table and reviewed trail maps of the locations we would be hiking, discussing possible camping spots and key survey areas. She mentioned that there would be another hiker joining us, her counterpart visiting from a national park in New Zealand. Gray welcomed this news explaining to me that it meant more noise to alert nearby bears, increasing the odds of preventing the often bad consequences of taking one by surprise. In addition, camp life would be slightly easier with another expert to help set up and break down and tend to the fire. But most importantly, according to Gray and with Elsie’s concurrence, it meant that they could divide more weight between themselves, reducing the size of my pack even further. This miffed me just slightly—like I couldn’t carry my weight or something. I was looking forward to proving that I was as capable as the next person who looked like they were still in middle school.

  Their planning session lasted for about an hour and I tuned in and out periodically, but my mind kept switching over to thoughts of Ash, wondering where he was, and what was going through his mind at the moment. Somehow I’d wound up desperately in love with two men at the same time. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so stressful—for all of us.

  I really wished I hadn’t told Ash to consider himself engaged. If I hadn’t said that, things would be slightly less complicated for me right now. But I reasoned that since I didn’t have all the facts at Lake Louise, I shouldn’t beat myself up too badly if I decided to break it off with him, which I was nowhere near having decided to do just yet. It seemed crazy that someone as young and backward as I was would have any followers at all, especially both so amazing and handsome, each in his own way.

  Elsie stood up to leave and I phased back into the moment to say good-bye. We would meet at seven in the morning at the Mount Shark Trailhead. She was brimming with enthusiasm and anticipation. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt yet, but I was looking forward to life out of doors for a spell, and getting to know another heroine.

  After he closed the door behind her, Gray came back over to where I was sitting on the floor and studied me as I looked forlornly at the pitched pile of things I really wished I could take. He sat down behind me and pulled me into the circle of his arms to sit inside his lap. I must have looked like I needed a distraction.

  We were facing the window and I gazed at the beautiful mountain backdrop to take my mind off not being able to wear deodorant during what was sure to be a highly sudorific (sweaty) endeavor. The upside was that I’d probably stink so badly that the bears would run the other way once they got a whiff of me. At least I’d be contributing to the safety of our journey in that way.

  Gray had his hands on the curves of my shoulders, squeezing intermittently in a move designed to release my embarrassingly obvious tension.

  “You can wear whatever you want, Ellie,” he said reassuringly, correctly guessing my quandary. “You just need to be prepared for the admirers you may attract and the consequences of their interest in you,” he added, laughing quietly at his joke.

  It was obvious this was about more than the bears.

  “But I’m with Elsie. When it comes to what you wear, less is more, in my opinion.”

  My heart jumped into overdrive when that last part registered. I could hear the mischief in his voice, but his face was behind me, kissing my neck now, so I couldn’t see it for myself.

  I wanted to object to his teasing, and to his ti
ghtening hold around me and to the kisses that were about to make me lose my mind, but just like at Lake Louise cataplexy won out over fighting or fleeing.

  His lips made the circuit back and forth from my hairline at the base of my neck to where the skin ended at the fabric of my tee-shirt over my spine. I had no idea such a thing could be so entrancing. It was a completely new sensation and it felt so good I nearly passed out—or maybe it was because I couldn’t breathe. Whatever the reason, after a few short moments of the best thing I had ever felt in my life, I went completely limp, landing solidly against Gray’s chest, and he chuckled in response, obviously pleased with how little effort it took on his part to chop me down like a tree.

  Then I realized that this was exactly the sort of thing Ash meant by ‘going beyond’ and that Gray had a completely different opinion on the matter.

  When I found my voice again I informed him, “Gray, I’m pretty sure you know this, but it makes me uncomfortable when you tease me like that.”

  And kiss me like that.

  Though, actually it felt amazingly good, so ‘uncomfortable’ wasn’t quite the right word. Perhaps ‘unnerved’ was more appropriate. I could absolutely understand the logic of Ash’s rules now. But at the moment logic didn’t seem so important, and it couldn’t possibly feel as good.

  “I don’t know Ellie,” he whispered in my ear, “you seem pretty comfortable to me.”

  He laughed softly and kissed the top of my ear. I felt dizzy and faint from the illogical pleasure of going beyond with Gray. But then the phone rang. When it didn’t seem like it would ever stop, he reluctantly disengaged himself from around me to go and answer it, sighing heavily as he stood and crossed the room to take the call.

  Once I was free from his hold and his spell, I rose and retreated to my room, like a mouse making a break for it while the cat’s back was turned. Then I reached for my own phone and entered the romantically neutral safety zone of a long overdue call to my mom, hoping to find my misplaced logic along the way.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent running errands that mostly involved collecting last minute supplies for the trip, including scent free toiletries. Our final stop was the grocery store. He caught me smiling big several times while we walked down the aisles with a grocery cart, Gray doing the pushing. I refused to explain myself, but the mirth was rooted in the idea that even Grayson Lionel Gregory the third (he was named after his grandfather) had to get his camping supplies just like normal people.

  Lidia had given me some nice outdoor meal ideas which paid dividends in impressing Gray as I led him away from the dried camp food section to the rice and pasta mixes and aluminum pouched chicken and fish products. We gathered protein bars, and nut mixes and yogurt covered raisins and pretzels. Breakfast meals would include granola bars or instant oatmeal and instant hot chocolate—he picked out the kind with the tiny marshmallows without any prompting from me. I selected some on-the-go water additives to give a little flavor variety to the beverage selections during the day, but especially with dinner.

  During a pass down the candy aisle Gray reached for a bag of miniature Hershey Bars, not for himself, but according to his historical information about my preferences. I stopped him, though, and explained that although they had once been a favorite, thanks to him, that avenue of indulgence was now closed to me forever. He laughed hugely and kissed me full on the lips, right there in the aisle…people saw.

  When I could safely wiggle free from his affection without offending him, I chose a bag of fun size Snickers and a package of Swedish Fish for my dessert on the trail. He didn’t select anything from that section of the store and it made me wonder just what his notion of dessert might be, though I felt like I already had a pretty good idea.

  Chapter 33 – Kiwi

  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 understan
d. 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.