Read Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight Online
Authors: Ann Mauren
Tags: #aquamarine, #backpacking, #banff, #barbie, #canada, #corvette, #frodo, #gems, #geology, #goth, #jewelry, #kentucky, #kings island, #lake louise, #louisville, #roses, #secret service, #skipper, #state quarters, #surveillance, #ups
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.”
The emotion was seeping through.
He looked a little concerned as he put his
hands on my shoulders.
“Of course. It’s my pleasure. Being good to
you is the best part of my life. And you’re the most deserving
creature imaginable.”
I bet you won’t feel that way in an hour
from now…
“I wish that was true. Maybe someday you’ll
find the perfect girl for you.”
I had to have the courage to look him in the
eyes. He deserved that much. He was still a little unsure about
where I was coming from or going to with this, but he joked and
said, “Well, until then, you’ll do nicely.”
And he kissed me. It was soft and sweet and
heartbreakingly romantic.
“Until then,” I agreed with a smile, after
he’d released me, eyes moist but not leaking. Then I opened the
door and stepped out into the hallway.
The gift shop was deserted except for the
clerk. She rang out my gilded music box with a ceramic maple leaf
painted in high gloss red on top. She was gone in the storeroom for
a minute or two to find the box that came with it. I used the time
to wind it slightly and listen to a few notes of ‘Oh Canada!’ while
I waited.
Looking triumphant, she returned with the
gift’s original packaging and lovingly re-secured it in preparation
for shipment with the movements of an expert. Handing me my
packaged up purchase with a look of satisfaction she smiled and bid
me good day. I began to walk out of the store, but an idea had just
sparked, so I turned back and asked, “Oh, and can I get the largest
bag you have?”
She looked at me like I was crazy but
complied wordlessly. I thanked her once again and stood there for a
moment folding it down to maximum compaction, stowing it inside my
daypack.
Gray was sitting down just outside in the
lobby, reading the sports section of a USA Today. I moved toward
him.
“Why did you bring your daypack down here?”
he asked as he looked up to view my approach. If he searched it I
would be dead in the water.
“It makes a nice purse,” I answered and then
pressed on to the next item on the agenda. Holding up the music box
I said, “I’m going over to the business center to see about having
this shipped. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll be right back.”
“That’s fine. You’ve got about ten minutes
still.”
He looked back at the article I’d
interrupted and began reading again.
In the business center the young man was
very helpful and re-packaged my music box in a slightly larger box
with foam peanuts to make it more secure. I filled out the paper
work and the UPS label and paid the shipping charges. But instead
of handing over my box I said, “Now, I’m wondering if I could ask a
favor. I’d like to talk the UPS person myself when he gets here.
It’s sort of confidential, but very important to me. Could that be
arranged?”
He looked totally bewildered but was still
pleasant and said, “Certainly.”
“Good. Here’s my cell phone number. Please
call me when he’s ready to leave and I’ll come right over. I’m just
going to be next door in the restaurant. I’d like to be able to
talk to him in private, so would you have him wait for me back
there?” And I indicated the service area behind him. “I know it’s
kind of unusual, but it’s really important.”
“Okay. He should be here any time now. I’ll
call you before he goes. And you’ll bring that?” he said, pointing
to my box.
“Yes. Thanks so much.”
Dan Gregory had arrived slightly early and
now father and son were coming toward me, checking on my progress
in the exportation of Canadian souvenirs.
Dan scooped me up in a big, decidedly
fatherly hug, complete with back rubbing.
“You look lovely, but how are you feeling
this morning, Ellie?”
He was all gentlemanly and sincere
concern.
“I’ll live.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but it was a
little off. They still laughed indulgently.
It was nice that his dad was here with him.
At least he wouldn’t be alone; although once Gray figured out what
I’d done he might prefer to be.
I had the cell phone in my pocket, so that I
would be sure to feel the vibration of an incoming call. We ordered
our breakfast and I messed with my tea, somewhat absentmindedly,
while the Gregorys discussed the previous evening’s baseball
highlights. Apparently they’d watched about an hour and a half of
one game live in the ER waiting room.
I checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t
missed the buzz, but there were no calls. It was quarter after ten.
He must be running behind. Oh well, it would be nice to eat
breakfast first.
And I did. Scrambled eggs with cheese, four
slices of thick bacon, a slice of white toast and a huge glass of
fresh squeezed orange juice that cost more than my breakfast
entrée.
At ten forty-five my phone buzzed. I held it
up so that Gray could see I was getting a call.
“Oh, I need to take this. Please excuse
me.”
I put the phone up to my ear, but in a
distracted manner I said to Dan, “If I don’t see you again, thank
you so much, for everything.”
Hopefully he’d think that I was assuming he
might be taking off soon, instead of the other way around.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Mayne? The UPS man is here and he’s
ready to leave.”
“I’m on my way.”
When I approached the business center I
walked right around to the opening at the counter and the clerk
showed me through the door and out to the dock area. Then he
stepped back into the office to give me some privacy with the
handsome and muscular and very curious man in the brown
uniform.
“Good day. So…what can Brown do for
you?”
It sounded off the cuff and I laughed. He
was alluding to the company slogan. I had a brown tee shirt that
asked that very question. It had been sort of a lame re-gift from
Hoyt when they’d first rolled out the slogan. It was lame, but it
didn’t deter me. I wore the shirt constantly.