Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (31 page)

Actually, it was very thoughtful of him. I
was going to need that if I ever wanted to check messages or do
anything else beyond making a call.

“Thanks. You’re right, I might. And I have
something for you,” I said, childishly enthusiastic as I handed him
a wrapped present that I had concealed behind me before turning on
the lantern.

He looked surprised.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“Oh, don’t start with that. I don’t need an
occasion to be generous with you. If I see something I think you’ll
enjoy, I’m not going to wait around for the proper ‘occasion’ to
give it to you. Where’s the fun or spontaneity in that?”

He appeared to accept my explanation and
looked down at me, thinking deeply, it seemed, while he held his
present in his hands, motionless.

“I was hoping you’d open it while we were
together so I could explain some things about it,” I said after
what seemed like a long time with no move on his part to
investigate his gift.

He snapped out of his abstraction then and
smiled big; carefully pulling at the silver ribbon I had tied
around the middle. Then he gently lifted the edges of the paper,
pulling up the tape to unfold the glossy black wrapping paper,
releasing his gift without a single tear.

“A Walk in the Woods, Rediscovering America
on the Appalachian Trail, by Bill Bryson,” he said, reading the
cover out loud.

“Has our destination changed?” he joked, and
then looked up expectantly at me.

I shook my head, smiling.

“It’s considered travel literature, but to
me it’s more like comedy. I love this book and this author. I used
to think he was my soul mate. I can’t believe I’ve never mentioned
him before. Do you know him?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Your soul mate?” he replied, a little
guarded, but still playful, acting jealous.

“Just sense of humor wise. He’s old enough
to be my dad, or maybe even my granddad,” I shrugged and continued,
“It probably wouldn’t work out anyway. I’m not really into older
men.”

Here I was, teasing him…again.

I let that hang there for a minute, and sure
enough, a pained expression was forming on his face. I quickly
amended with, “Well, I mean, unless they’re into me, that is.”

I searched his face, hoping he’d interpret
my comment as a joke and not a jab. The pain rapidly gave way to a
smirk.

“What drew you to this book?” he asked.

“Mom brought it home from the library for
me. After that I read everything of his that I could get my hands
on. I love all of his work. It’s not all travel related, though.
There’s some on science, some memoirs. Then there are a few books
on the history of the English language, even one on often misused
words, which I looove,” I said, drawing out the word ‘love’,
“because I’m strange like that,” and I chuckled at myself.

“I’ll need to see that one right away,
because I’m strange like that, too,” he said enthusiastically.

“Here’s the thing. He’s got this great
low-key sarcasm, from which no one is spared, especially himself. I
love that the most, I think. And the way he uses language makes
scenes that were already amusing take on a higher level
of…of…hilarity.”

He smiled at me during my word search.

“The other thing I like is that he makes me
laugh out loud, about every other sentence, but I come away smarter
after I’ve read him. You don’t often find that kind of intellectual
value added feature when you’re being so well entertained. It’s
like a literary version of carrots in carrot cake.”

I chuckled thinking about some of my
favorite passages in the book Ash was holding, including some
totally new perspectives on camping, and Hostess Cupcakes and
bears. I continued.

“There’s something else. This man has the
most unique voice. I listened to his memoirs on a digital audio
book, which he reads himself. And now when I read any of his books
I can hear his voice in my mind. I just love that; it feels
so…personal.”

He seemed lost in thought as I said these
things to him.

“And this one is your favorite?” he finally
asked, turning the book up.

“I can’t commit to a favorite. I got you
this one because camping is on our agenda and I know you’ll
appreciate what he says about deprivation on the trail and about
how simple things in civilized life take on new wonder and delight,
once you’ve had to do without them for a while. I’d forgotten how
much I enjoyed this. I hope you will too.”

“I like anything you like,” he said, with a
touch of wistfulness, while he looked at me, and not his
present.

“I have something else for you, but you
might think it’s weird,” I began.

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I’m starting to feel very unprepared and
ungenerous here, Ellery,” he said with an uneasy smile.

“Don’t be. Okay, so, this is kind of
different. I won’t be offended if you don’t like it. I debated with
myself about whether I should even give it to you...” I qualified,
trying to set up an easy way out for him, just in case.

He looked very curious, but a little
uncertain, too. He knew me well enough now to be expecting
something truly bizarre.

“Now I’m serious, Ash. If this isn’t your
thing, just say so,” I offered.

Then I pushed up the sleeve of my sweater
(it was a slightly chilly night, even for June) to reveal my wrist.
Using my thumb and index finger I twisted the magnetic latch pieces
apart to release a rather loose fitting bracelet from around my arm
and tentatively handed it over. His expression was hard to read. It
looked like uncertainty as opposed to enthusiasm. I tried to
explain.

“So, I’m not into crafts or anything, but
Serena made this really unusual bracelet from a tiny braid of
Kailee’s hair. I thought it was a neat idea, so I made one from
mine. It seemed like a sentimental, personal way to be reminded of
someone you love—if you’re not grossed out about it being made of
hair, that is,” and I laughed a nervous laugh in punctuation.

He didn’t join me in the levity, however.
His gaze was fixed on the band in his open palm, fingers from his
other hand slowly tracing the twist.

“Serena intertwined a tiny gold chain with
Kailee’s hair, but mine is lower budget than that...sorry,” I
added, with growing nervousness at his silent response.

He still hadn’t spoken. I was starting to
feel disappointed and foolish. I should have listened to the
logical side of myself who assured me that guys don’t wear
bracelets, especially ones made of hair. I had put him in an
awkward position, and now he was searching for a way to tactfully
decline my strange gesture, or possibly disengage himself from me
completely...

“It’s too weird,” I pronounced when I
couldn’t take the silence any longer. “I’m sorry. I knew better.
How about I just give it to my mom, instead? It’ll be like a
kindergarten craft project to her; she’ll love it—” I suggested
with a smile, trying to put on an air of nonchalance, while I
reached out to retrieve my rejected and sad little offering of
love.

In a lightning fast move his hand and the
bracelet were gone, out of my reach, cutting me off in mid-apology.
Turning his body slightly away from me, he used one hand to fasten
the band around the wrist of his other hand. Then he turned toward
me again with a glorious, radiant, heat wave of a smile lighting
his face and the space.

“This is the most perfect, priceless gift
I’ve ever received, besides your friendship, of course. I’ll
treasure it always. Thank you, Ellery,” he said with deep
conviction as he raised it to his lips and kissed it, smiling
happily. His eyes were just slightly wet looking, though in the dim
light it was hard to be sure.

As his comment really settled in my mind and
began to wrap itself around my heart I could feel the beginnings of
moisture in my own eyes, especially as I considered what his
friendship meant to me.

“Well, if that’s the case, then maybe we’re
even now,” I suggested.

“Even?” he asked.

I pulled the perfect sentimental keepsake
resting on a chain around my neck out from under the cover of my
shirt. It was warm from my body heat at all times except when I
would take it off to shower.

“Remember this? I thought I’d be working the
rest of my life to top this,” I explained with a sigh of happiness
at the end as I got sucked into staring at my most treasured
material possession of all time.

“I’d really love that, you know,” he said,
completely serious without even a hint teasing.

I picked up his left hand and fiddled with
the bracelet so it hung with the clasp on the bottom of his wrist
as opposed to the top. Letting go with another well pleased and
happy sigh I replied, simply, “Me too.”

Chapter 27
–
Friendly Skies

The day finally came for me to embark on the
adventure of my life. It was bittersweet for a variety of reasons.
I was overjoyed to be traveling to a place I’d dreamed of visiting
since I was a ‘littler’ girl. Yet, for obvious reasons, I was
anxious about what might happen once I got there. I felt sorry for
both the guys who seemed to like me. Gray was going to all this
effort to court me, not knowing that his opportunity with me had
already come and gone. Ash was going to all this effort to watch
Gray court me, not believing that Gray’s opportunity with me had
already come and gone—though I did and said everything I could
think of to reassure him, except decline to go on the trip in the
first place. I knew it was all going to come to a point soon, and
then take a rapid downhill trajectory, and I’d be lucky if there
was anybody waiting for me at the bottom once this scary ride was
over. If I ended up walking away from all of this alone, it would
be no more than I deserved. If that was the case, I hoped I’d at
least have some answers as a consolation prize.

Gray picked me up very early that morning.
He’d caught a red-eye flight from Raleigh to Louisville and then
made a detour from Louisville International to Eastwood to come and
collect me personally and convey me on to the friendly skies. It
was so early, in fact, that neither Mom nor Hoyt had left for work
yet, though I think they would have gone in late or stayed home, if
that’s what would have been required to see me off properly.

They walked us out to the car and my mom
tried to get a month’s worth of embarrassing me into a single
departing embrace, replete with kisses, which lasted so long I
actually considered faking a faint to free myself. But, bless him,
Hoyt intervened just before I hit my breaking point—like a
preferred dance partner cutting in. His hug was short and sweet and
infinitely more appropriate. Everyone should have a Hoyt in their
life.

As soon as we pulled away, Gray had my hand.
I sighed internally. Would it be wrong just to go with it? I
couldn’t deny that it felt good—like having a fantasy come true.
But I reminded myself that I was over that fantasy and had moved on
to a very good reality. A messed up and confusing reality, but very
good none-the-less…especially around midnight.

I waited for an appropriate time frame and
then pretended like I needed my hand to open my bottle of water.
Then I carefully occupied my left hand with holding and drinking
the water for the rest of the ride.

I decided to take Lidia’s advice and make my
intentions clear here at the beginning, on the way to the
airport.

“Gray? Thank you so much for setting this up
for me. I really do intend to pursue a career in geology, and this
is invaluable experience. I owe you.”

I wanted to see if the truth mixed with a
little reverse psychology would get me off the hook, just
slightly.

He glanced over at me and half smiled, with
one eyebrow raised. Then he yawned and said, “Thanks for coming,
Little Feather. I’ll get back to you on the payment plan.”

Well, that didn’t go like I’d hoped. Little
Feather? What’s that supposed to mean?

I thought about letting it slide; letting
fear of embarrassment beat out curiosity. But Gray was clearly
disappointed when I didn’t pursue it, so against my better judgment
I asked, “Little Feather? Is that my Indian name?”

He laughed and replied, “No. That would be
‘Runs From Shadow’, I think,” and he laughed some more at his
joke.

I laughed too. It was true.

“Little Feather is what I started calling
you behind your back after we talked about that Radiohead song you
like, where he says “you float like a feather…in a beautiful
world,” he replied, singing it in a perfect mimic.

I just smirked and rolled my eyes,
refocusing on the view out my side of the car. We’d had lots of
discussions about music, lyrics in particular, during travel or
down time in Iceland. Understanding the lyrics to songs I liked,
and even those I didn’t, was an obsession for me. He had quizzed me
exhaustively about the content and my interpretation of countless
tunes. When it came to one of my favorites, he couldn’t understand
why I identified with the singer and not the subject in the song
‘Creep’. I couldn’t understand why it mattered so much to him—still
mattered, apparently. Now I absolutely let it go. Mercifully, he
didn’t pursue it any further, and we finished our drive to
Louisville International in companionable silence.

After dropping off the rental car we made
our way through security and then checked in for our flight. Once
we had our seat assignments, in first class, of course, Gray
accompanied me as I followed the smell of Cinnabon to its source.
Having this particular brand of monster size sweet roll swimming in
butter and sugar was very nostalgic for me. It reminded me of
Grandpa. He had always indulged my sweet tooth the way beloved
grandparents often do, and we both especially loved Cinnabon in
this regard. If things had been different for him, he’d probably be
sitting here now, eating one of his own and then helping me with
mine. Then again, probably not. It would have already happened,
about a year ago, and none of us would be here today.