Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight

by Ann Mauren

  Elsie had turned into my mom, holding me like a sick child, patting my hair, massaging my back and speaking reassuringly to me. I knew that the other two wanted to be doing that, but had been overruled by the feminine nature of the tragedy.

  We lifted off and were standing on the ground in Banff less than ten minutes later. I however, was immediately transferred to a gurney. A voice in my head kept reminding me that I’d done it to myself. Though the way things were playing out now definitely had Gregory written all over it.

  All three of my companions stayed with me as I was transferred by ambulance to the medical center in town. I wondered whether the helicopter crew or the ambulance personnel knew they were transporting a U.T.I. victim, though it was likely that Gray’s version had been something more like hiking induced kidney failure.

  At my request, only Elsie accompanied me when the nurse saw me in my own little curtained off area of the ER. I had to give a urine sample, which was convincingly dark due to the fact that I hadn’t peed since about seven that morning and it was close to four now. Color notwithstanding, I knew it would prove me a faitour (imposter) in fairly short order, though pain of that nature could be symptomatic of other problems…

  The nurse was very sweet to me, making me feel all the more guilty to take up her time when she should be seeing to real patients.

  “If there’s anything you or your daughter needs, just push this button right here,” she said to my ‘mom’.

  Elsie gave me a look that was priceless—equal parts offense and gratification.

  When the nurse stepped away I said, “Oh, don’t worry about it Elsie. You can’t really blame her because I look like I’m twelve and you look like you’re thirty. It’s plausible. Besides you’d be the coolest most awesome mom ever.”

  That seemed to mollify her creditably.

  I noticed that there was a post-it note pad and pen next to the phone. I pointed to it and said, “Do you think I could have your e-mail and phone number so I can contact you some time? You’re my new hero and I’d like to keep track of you…if you don’t mind.”

  She wordlessly began writing the requested data and handed it to me. Though she didn’t ask for it, I did the same for her. Then I scanned her information.

  Pamela Elsinore?

  “So ‘Elsie’ is short for Elsinore…like the beer?” I asked, a little incredulously.

  It was a made up beer that featured heavily in a cult classic movie from the eighties.

  “Now how do you know about that? Weren’t you born in the nineties?”

  She was amused.

  “I love Strange Brew. It’s a classic. It’s one of my guilty pleasure movies. Sorry about your name, though. That had to be pretty inconvenient.”

  “Why would having the same name as a rich beer heiress be inconvenient?” she shot back, her eyebrows arched at full capacity.

  “So at some point in the early eighties you switched from Pam to Elsie?” I surmised.

  “You got it.”

  She seemed satisfied that I’d made the connection.

  “Beauty,” I pronounced.

  It was a line from the movie. It expressed enthusiasm or satisfaction with a circumstance or statement.

  I cradled her contact information between my palms and smiled big.

  “What would you say to guiding a girl’s trip sometime?”

  Her return smile was enormous.

  “Those are the very best kind. You’re on, little girl. Just name the day and time!”

  After close to an hour, the doctor came in with the lab results. He spoke to Elsie.

  “She has a few more white blood cells in her urine than normal, but nothing too serious. It looks like we caught this on the upswing. I’m going to prescribe some Cipro and lots of water. She can even mix in some cranberry juice, if she’d like,” he suggested. Pausing to look at the chart a moment he continued, “Give her some Ibuprofen for the pain, but that should clear up after her second or third dose of antibiotics. I’d keep her off the trail for a couple days, though.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” said Elsie, every bit as relieved as my own mother would have been.

  It was nice, and it made me a little emotional.

  Once the physician was gone she was back to rubbing my back and speaking reassuringly.

  “Did you hear that? It’s not too bad at all.”

  “Yeah, I heard that. They just airlifted me because I had a few extra white blood cells in my urine. I’m so embarrassed I might actually die anyway.”

  “Well that would be counter-productive to our intentions here, wouldn’t it?” She laughed softly and continued, “Look, don’t worry about it. You’re not the one who asked for the helicopter, and you’re not the one paying for it.”

  I knew she was dead right about that.

  When we finally walked out into the waiting room, about two hours after arriving, the site that greeted me caused another massive wave of guilt.

  Ash was sitting in a chair listening to messages on his cell phone. Gray was standing in the corner with his dad! That meant that another helicopter had probably been commandeered to lift him off of whatever backcountry trail he’d been walking not two hours ago. It was beyond ridiculous.

  When they saw me, they all rushed around us to hear Elsie’s report. You’d think I was the lucky survivor of a bear attack instead of the victim of a slight imbalance of the naturally occurring bacteria in my urinary tract. They’d probably used the time in the waiting room to get themselves typed for organ donation, just in case those kidneys hadn’t made it after all because the helicopter ride hadn’t been quick enough.

  The sweet and sincere and anxious concern that was obvious on both Dan and Gray’s faces, and really this whole situation, was a very clear reflection of what life would probably always be like for me as a Gregory. If that’s the path I chose, I’d be one of the best loved and kept, most lavishly cared for princesses in the history of spoiled people.

  I looked at Ash. He seemed to be drawing those same conclusions as he gazed at the Gregorys before he felt my look and returned it.

  Dan and Gray were listening to Elsie as she related the anecdotal details of another health crisis she’d averted with a previous unfortunate soul the month before.

  With my back to the group, I stepped out of their circle toward the pretend Kiwi.

  “That was quite a scare, Miss. But you’ll be feeling better in a hurry, yes?” he asked.

  I loved ‘Phil’s’ Auckland accent.

  “Are you going back to New Zealand now or will you be staying in Canada for a while?”

  My voice was a little shaky as I asked this.

  “I don’t head back for a few weeks. I’m just playing it by ear.”

  There was a sad smile to go along with that last part as his eyes plumbed the depths of my soul. I wondered what he was making of all this.

  “Well, it’s been a pleasure. I’m sorry for messing things up for you.”

  He would never know how true those words were. And then I reached up to give him a hug. I quickly whispered “I’ll catch up with you later. I love you.”

  And that was the best I could give him, for now. He nodded at me, his expression completely empty and unreadable. Then he turned and walked away. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again, but I knew I was going to break his heart in a few short hours and it was killing me.

  Elsie pointed to my hand with the post-it note and said, “All right little girl. So you know what to do with that then?”

  “I’m going to use it.”

  I was perfectly sincere.

  “Okay honey. You take care. Call me and let me know how you’re doing. Phil and I have to go figure out what we’re going to do about our cars.”

  She hugged me and then she too turned and walked away. Another person I probably wouldn’t be seeing for a very long time, if ever again.

  Gray stepped over into the spot where Ash had been standing. Then he put his arm around me, holding me s
ecurely at the waist, just like before.

  “Let’s get you back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

  He loaded me into the back of a large Mercedes sedan which was waiting by the door, going around to the other side to get into the back seat with me, while his dad got in the driver’s seat and chauffeured us back to the hotel. I scooted closer to Gray and leaned against his chest. As his arm gently wound around me, I settled deeper into his side, and he kissed the top of my head. I felt loved and warm and secure. It was absolutely wonderful. I closed my eyes and wished this time out from my escape plan would never end.

  Chapter 36 – Peaceful

  I wanted my last moments with Gray to be peaceful and pleasant. So I pretended like there had never been any course altering upset between us. It was easy to play sick. I felt that way. Tears were poised to break out any second, lending credibility to the pain I was supposed to be having.

  He was so sweet and solicitous that I nearly aborted my plan. It was unbelievably pleasant to have someone so smart and handsome and amazing waiting on me hand and foot like a slave—a very enamored slave. I was an easy mistress. I only required that he keep my water glass full and cold and that he rub my feet. The later assignment was more for his benefit than my own, but I made the best of it. Besides, it gave him something useful to do.

  Depending on the answer to my question for the lady at the front desk, I’d be leaving in a few minutes or tomorrow sometime. I sent Gray on an errand down the hall to see if there was any cranberry juice in the vending machine. Once he was gone I made the call.

  “Hi. If I needed to ship a box home when would that go out?”

  “The mail is picked up at noon. UPS picks up at ten and Fed-Ex at nine. You can bring your package to the business center located just off the lobby, or request a bellman to pick it up.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Gray was incredibly fast. He was walking back in the door just as I’d put down the receiver. He had a bottle of cranberry juice for me, which I now had to drink, even though I hated that stuff. I scheduled two bathroom breaks around the rapid bursts of consumption (by the toilet) of what I considered to be the bitterest of widely available red colored fruit juices—though I would have consumed it gladly if my illness were real.

  So according to the front desk lady, I had until about ten tomorrow morning. That was good. It was a relief not to rush. Being cared for like this by Gray for a few more hours wouldn’t kill me. It could make me change my mind, though, and in the end that might be worse.

  I knew I was giving him the wrong impression and being horribly selfish at the same time. But I wanted to see him happy, and he was definitely that.

  I let him rub my feet for about an hour while we watched a talk show. The host was one of my very favorite celebrities, but his sidekick, Andy, was even higher up on my list of people I loved. When Gray pressed for more I explained that it had to do with understatement, and the fact that, in my opinion, Andy had the best off screen laugh I’d ever heard. Kind of like a soloist in front of the choir that was the studio audience.

  Just like always, Gray was amused by my strange preferences and the reasoning behind them. He never seemed to tire of squeezing my feet and toes and I wondered exactly how long he would have kept at it if I hadn’t pulled away to go to the bathroom. While I was in there, the room service food came, so I just hung out until they were gone, since I had my pajamas on by that point.

  Gray ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and I had grilled cheese. He’d laughed at me when I asked for that, but I explained that it was my idea of comfort food. Interestingly, my platter came with a juice box and smiley face potatoes. This was a great source of amusement to him as he pulled off the lids and examined the differences in the plate presentations of our meals. And like the thoughtful and overly indulgent lover he was, he’d had another Paul Bunyan style Chocolate Cake dessert sent up, especially for me. He didn’t fight fair at all.

  After dinner he brought out the really big guns.

  “Ellie, can I brush your hair?”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I knew feeling that good and relaxed around him was a calculated risk—any form of sedation in his presence would be. But I was certain he already had whatever he was planning for me all calculated out to perfection anyway, and given my pretend medical condition, the danger seemed remote.

  So I agreed. Peaceful and pleasant. Why not?

  It was different having a man I loved brush my hair. It was extremely sensual and at the same time very relaxing. I was sitting on the floor in front of the couch and he sat behind me on the cushions, brushing through my still fairly damp hair—I hadn’t bothered drying it after a long shower. So the brushing felt good, but it wasn’t as smooth as it would have been with soft dry hair.

  After a while I suggested that he just rub my head instead, an idea that was received with great enthusiasm as he drew me closer to facilitate my request. I lay stretched out on the couch, with my back to him and my head resting on his chest, while his hands moved through my hair and along my scalp, down my neck and out across my shoulders. It was the most relaxing and enjoyable thing I’d ever experienced.

  This is how it could be. What’s wrong with this? Peaceful and pleasant.

  I drifted off to sleep uncertain of who I was or what I wanted.

  My peaceful passage into nighttime sleep smoothly transitioned into peaceful dreams. One dream was a recurring vision, or really a memory, because it was like watching a movie of something that really happened. I always enjoyed this dream, though I was sure I hadn’t had this one since before Grandpa had passed away.

  I was ten years old again. I was with my dad on a date at Applebee’s. Being on a date had led into a discussion about the future and about my getting married someday.

  Dad said, “Being single is like being the captain of our own plane. You can fly anywhere you like. And that’s great, especially if you enjoy being in charge and doing whatever you want. But if you fall in love and decide to get married someday, you’d better make sure the man you marry is good enough to be a captain. Because just like in a real jet, you can only have one captain and one co-pilot, and if they argue about where they’re going or how to fly, what can happen?”

  “They could crash?”

  “That’s right. I want you to be happy and get where you’re going without any crashes in your life. So make sure you choose a good captain, one you can trust with the direction of your life and someone who’ll always treat you like a partner. Will you promise to do that?”

  “I promise. I’m going to find someone just like you, Dad.” I announced in perfect sincerity.

  He liked that. It was one of the last heart to heart conversations we ever had.

  It was a mental love letter from my dad, playing in my mind precisely when I needed to see and hear it. Even in my sleep I was working out what I needed to do and why it was so important.

  When I awoke it was to that scopophobic sensation. I opened one eye and then the other. Gray was sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. He laughed softly and greeted me with a wonderful warm smile.

  I love you, I thought to myself. Too bad I’m leaving today.

  Then I sat up straight, slightly alarmed because it looked very well into daytime time outside the window. I turned to look at the clock.

  Five after nine. Shoot!

  Gray watched all of this play out and asked, “Are you going to be late for an appointment?”

  Yes, as a matter of fact.

  “I need to get up,” I said in a crackly first voice of the day, heading into the bathroom.

  After splashing and drying my face, I tied my hair back in a ponytail and put on some blush for color in my cheeks, a few quick swipes of waterproof mascara and a stroke of lip gloss. I had things staged for departure under the counter. Inside my daypack, which was a decent size, I’d placed couple of fresh, tightly rolled outfits and undergarments. Also stuffed inside were my toiletry bag and a few
of the Lush bath bombs I hadn’t gotten to yet. My wallet and passport and cell phone were jammed in outside pouches. The memory card—holding digital copies of my memories—from the new camera was securely wrapped in Ziplocs and tucked in an inner compartment. For good measure I pulled out a huge wad of tissues and shoved them down inside an open pouch as well. On top was the blue ball cap with the Kahurangi National Park Logo given to me by a pretend Kiwi. I zipped the daypack shut and walked out.

  Gray looked up from the TV as I stepped back into the room. Appraising my fully dressed and shoed appearance, he said, “Ellie, maybe you should take it easy today. We can have some breakfast sent up and just…hang out this morning. I think you need a little more time to recuperate.”

  His tone was very persuasive. I sighed in response.

  “I don’t want to sit around here, Gray. I’ll just end up thinking more about it, and that will make me feel worse. I think I need to get away…for awhile.”

  Every word was true, but it had nothing to do with having a U.T.I. I continued with my plan.

  “So there was a music box in the gift shop that I saw the other day. I was thinking it might make a nice present for my mom. I want to go down and see if it’s still there, and then see if I can get it shipped to her today.”

  He was waiting for me on my couch, long since dressed and ready to go.

  “Okay. I figured as much. We have plans with Dad at ten. That should give you enough time. Are you ready to go now?”

  Forever? I don’t know. I thought so last night, but now that I’m here about to go through with it…

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  I could feel the emotion swelling. I bit back on it. I was already at the door and Gray turned off the TV as he crossed the room to where I was. I was blocking the way deciding on the precise wording of my farewell speech. He looked at me, waiting for me to say whatever it was I was thinking. I breathed deep and said, “Thank you so much, for everything. You’ve been so good to me, much better than I deserve.”