Howdy! Catch me at www.andimarquette.com or www.myspace.com/fiestaroad and thanks for reading.
I parked my grey Toyota pick-up in front of the Little Salmon Rafting Company and studied the wooden building for a few moments, grinning. I reached for the sheet of paper on the passenger seat and read through, yet again, the roster of guides and other staff slated to spend the summer with the LSRC. The name jumped off the page, like it did every time I read this damn thing. Hammond, Melanie J. My heart skipped around in my chest a bit.
I tried to ignore it and dutifully read the rest of the list. But I went right back up to Mel’s name and lingered over it a bit. Get over it. Jesus. I’d worked with her every damn summer for five years. We were buddies. Nothing more. I folded the paper and put it in the glove compartment and glanced out my windshield at the building, a one-story wooden structure trying to mimic an Old West general store. The LSRC’s carved wooden sign hung off the porch roof. It had been reprinted in bright blue, red, and yellow. The familiar cartoonie raft splashed through a spate of whitewater that seemed to arc outward toward the viewer, making the idea of tearing through the Little Salmon’s rapids all the more inviting.
I exited my truck and inhaled deeply, stretching the miles out of my legs and shoulders while I gazed up at the surrounding treeless mountainsides. Like another planet, I thought, picking out only a few swaths of green vegetation higher up their faces, above the valley floor, which looked lush in comparison. I watched an RV slow down on the main drag as it entered Riggins, population about five hundred thirty in the winters. Lots of traffic for a town this size, but during the summer recreational season, the population might double because Riggins sat at the confluence of two rivers, the Salmon and the Little Salmon. Highway 95 divided it vertically, most of Riggins proper backed up against the west-side mountains.
Even more awesome, the Payette River carved its own canyon twenty miles south and slightly east. In drier years, the Salmon, Little Salmon, and Payette Rivers still provided enough whitewater for boater nuts like me and Mel and plenty of calm places for the more staid tourist-driven raft trips.
And speaking of boater nuts…I watched a dreadlocked dude strap a dark blue whitewater kayak to the rack on the roof of his beat-up car. I smiled to myself. An assload of money on his boat and gear, none on his car. As long as it gets you to the river, I thought as I headed toward the double glass doors at the end of the battered wooden boardwalk. According to the roster, Brad was still on board. He kept the place cleaned, inventoried, and inviting. I’d worked for a couple of other rafting companies over the past four summers—one in Colorado and one in Wyoming—and hated the accumulated grunge in the dingy main offices. I’d spent enough time on western rivers to know that more often than not, the more slipshod a rafting company’s appearance, the more slipshod the guiding. I signed up for a second summer with the LSRC because the owners and Brad kept it clean, organized, and professional.
I waited as a couple of giggling teenaged girls preceded me indoors. I pulled my shades off and entered the LSRC’s funky northwoods interior, sniffing. Pine-Sol, wood, and bleach. Brad’s touch, I thought with relief. To my right stood neat racks of t-shirts, shelves of books about rafting, boating, and local history. A beverage cooler filled with bottled water and sodas was positioned against the wall, set at a right angle to the counter. To my left, more shelves held stacks of sweatshirts, shorts, and assorted tourist doo-dads like Frisbees, beach balls, and a section of dog toys and dog treats. Brad loved dogs and his black lab Mike was something of a mascot for the company.
From the doorway, I scanned the staff behind the counter, pleased to see Travis and Jenny, both of whom I’d worked with last summer. My eyes fell on a third woman whose back faced me. She seemed to be speaking animatedly on the business phone. Mel? Nah. Mel had kept shoulder-length hair the five summers I’d known her. This woman’s hair was cut short, a tousled run-your-fingers-through-it mass of light brown blond-streaked invitation. Besides, Mel’s hair was darker.
I studied her, puzzled. She had Mel’s athletic build and she stood about Mel’s height, but the hair…whoever she was, she was damn nice-looking from the back. I let my eyes wander along her blue tank-top to the top of her black river-runner shorts. I couldn’t see her ass, but I was willing to bet it filled those shorts nicely. Travis stepped to the counter to help someone, blocking my view. I set my shades on the top of my head and headed toward him, curious.
“Dez!” said a voice behind me.
I stopped and turned. “Hey, Brad! Man, I am so glad you’re here!”
He laughed and wrapped me in a huge bear hug. “Welcome back! I’m glad you’re here for another round. Things just wouldn’t be the same without you.” He stepped back and looked down at me, appraising. “Nice,” he teased. “You haven’t gone soft yet. How’re things in Portland?”
I shrugged, smiling. “Same shit, different day. Working on the master’s so I have more play with all of you hardcore outdoor nuts.”
He gave me an “oh, please!” look and grinned. “You still repping for Dagger?” He tugged on his scraggly reddish goatee. An LSRC t-shirt and nylon guide shorts hung on his tall, lanky frame.
“Yep. And Kokatat. They’re both flexible and take me in the off-season. They know I’m a freakin’ water dog,” I chuckled then grunted in surprise as someone jumped on my back. I lurched toward Brad, just catching myself. “Hey—”
“Dez! Woo hoo! The party can now begin!”
Brad laughed as Mel slid off my back.
I turned, smiling, and almost choked. Mel. Holy shit. The woman behind the counter. “Wow...your hair…” I stammered. “I didn’t recognize you…” from the back while I was trying to stare at your ass. Jesus.
She pretended to model it with gestures a game show hostess might use to show you the products you could win. “Do you like?” she asked in a fake French accent. “I had it done last month.”
“It looks great,” I said in a rush, feeling embarrassed at my reaction. I cannot believe I cruised Mel. After all, I was trying so hard not to think about her in those terms. “Really. It suits you. Nice.” Beyond nice. Damn. “How are you?” I asked, trying to redirect the conversation.
“So much better, now. My sexy river guide buddy is here to play on the water all summer long with me! Life is awesome. Even in Idaho.” She grinned at me. “Did you just get here?”
Sexy? I nodded, still a little tongue-tied.
Brad cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt all this female bonding,” he said as he smiled, “but there’s shit to do. Check with me later for your assignments.” He raised his eyebrows and clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “Oh—” he added. “Dez, I have you signed up to start Saturday. That gives you a couple of days to run the sections and see what you think.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Brad.” I nodded at him in acknowledgement and he went back to the counter.
Mel sighed, an exaggerated “woe is me” tone. “Dammit. Work. Who knew?”
I nodded in agreement. “Totally. I mean, signing up as guides and we actually have to do stuff…”
She smacked me gently on the arm. “C’mon. I’ll help you set up. I saved your spot.” She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me toward the door.
“Well, hell, you sure take care of me.” I allowed her to lead me out the door and to my truck, her whirlwind energy burning the long drive out of my bones. She released my wrist and beat me to my truck, where she hopped into the passenger seat, guessing correctly that I hadn’t locked the door.
I slid into the driver’s seat and we both buckled up. I started the engine and backed out of the parking space, then drove to a dirt road that ran along the side of the LSRC. I turned right, down the hill toward the river and the guides’ tent city.
“God, it is so good to see you! I love spending my summers with you.” Mel reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“Ditto.” I cleared my throat as I steered. “I have a confession to make.”
She looked at me. “Shit. Please tell me you didn’t go straight,” she said in a dramatic stage whisper.
“Hell,” I sighed. “You guessed.” I slowed down as we approached River Rat Junction. Riggins supplied a bathroom building that included flush toilets and six shower stalls—three for women, three for men—and by arrangement, the guides divided into work crews to keep the camp and bathrooms clean. I liked the system and generally, most people did their part. Those who didn’t got a night visit from others who piled trash outside their tents or campers as a kindly reminder to get their shit together and pitch in.
“Oh, and I’m married now with three kids since you saw me last September,” I added.
She snorted. “And I’m straight, too. I’m doing Steve, so I can replace Lisa as LSRC co-owner.”
I laughed as I geared down and approached Mel’s campsite. I drove slowly into the camp and parked in the area I had occupied last summer, right next door to Mel’s. She’d already set up and I smiled at the familiar sight of her teal and blue four-person dome tent. She’d also put up her screenhouse, a dark blue nylon canopy with four walls of mosquito netting that you could roll up or down as needed. She had already furnished it with a small folding table and two foldable nylon camp chairs. Her lime green sport kayak balanced on its stern against a nearby cottonwood, an image of the Tasmanian Devil on its snub-nosed bow. The longer, more staid kayak that she used for overnight river trips stood on its end next to the shorter boat. Bright orange. I smiled. Her paddle leaned against her sport boat and her yakker gear, as she and I called it, was drying on a clothesline she had strung between two smaller trees.
“So what’s this big confession?” she asked.
I stopped the truck, shaking my head in mock sadness. “Seriously. I didn’t recognize you from the back with your new ’do. Dammit, girl, I totally scoped you.” I said it with extra silly emphasis.
She stared at me for a second then burst out laughing. “Cool! It works!” She grinned and practically jumped out of the truck.
I followed her, smiling, and surveyed her camp, glad she’d blown my comment off. “How do you get this place looking so damn homey?” I asked, shaking my head as she opened my camper shell and lowered the truck bed.
“Skills, girl. I can be wild in the back country, but I’m freakin’ Martha Stewart in camp.” She pursed her lips and stared at the mass of duffle bags and gear my truck contained. She quickly located my tent and handed it to me. “Get busy,” she smiled. “So we can sit around and drink beer when it’s dark.” She flashed me a grin that lit up her hazel eyes and I actually felt a little spark zip down my spine.
What the fuck? It’s Mel, you idiot. Mel. Memories of a long kayaking trip we took down the Payette River last summer pushed into my brain. Our last night out, camping on an isolated riverbank, I woke up in the middle of the night snuggled against her back, practically spooning her. My initial freak-out dissipated because it felt really, really good to be near her like that.
She smelled of woodsmoke and neoprene and I admit, I breached a boundary because I didn’t move away. Instead, I snuggled closer and put my arm around her and stayed like that for a long time until I heard her sigh in her sleep and felt her start to turn over. At that point, I withdrew and turned my back, staring at the side of the tent. I listened to her breathing, slow and even, and decided no big deal, just part of the easy, comfortable bond we shared. Sure, I was going to miss her when we went our separate ways during the off-season, but that’s how it was with us. Buddy stuff. I eventually fell asleep and my confused jolt of attraction faded a bit in the morning light. But the memory didn’t.
“Did you bring your living room?” Mel asked, pulling me back to the present.
“Yep. It’s against the cab. Grey duffle.” I watched as she crawled into my truck bed and yes, her ass did fill her shorts nicely. I chewed my lip. Maybe I was just horny. I hadn’t really dated for several months because I’d been so busy with school and repping gear that I’d barely had time to eat and sleep. And maybe I’d consider a fling with a tourist or another guide to work some of this out. I hadn’t ever done anything beyond a couple of make-out sessions with a forest ranger at a bar in Jackson year before last, but maybe a full-blown fling would help me get over this.
Mel slid the duffle across my plastic bedliner and I took it off the tailgate. She smiled up at me and thoughts of other possibilities with other people disappeared. Great. Welcome to Crush City. I stifled a groan.
We set to work and within fifteen minutes my own four-person dome tent was up. I unrolled a four by five carpet remnant I’d scored from a friend and spread it over the floor of my tent then blew one of my sleeping pads up. I’d put the other ones in later. I pulled my sleeping bag out of its stuff sack and tossed it over the pad. I put the duffle bag that held my clothing within along with a pair of sneakers, a pair of light hikers, and a windbreaker. Mel was already setting up my “living room”—a screenhouse like hers. She had the four corner posts staked and she was pulling the roof cover taut. I removed two folding nylon camp chairs from my truck and took them out of their carrying bags. She set them up in the screenhouse and helped me move my two coolers in as well.
“There’s your coffee table,” Mel announced as she positioned the larger cooler between the two chairs. “You’re such a bachelor,” she teased as she threw a glance over her shoulder on her way back to my truck.
“What? Just ’cause I don’t have Ikea furniture at my river camp like some people I know?” I shot back as I reached over her head and undid the straps on the two kayaks I had brought, secured to the top of my camper shell. One sport, one touring, like hers. Another little spark skipped through my stomach as Mel’s back brushed my chest. I had five inches on her, making it easier for me to deal with my boats. I lifted one then the other off the roof rack and handed each in turn to her. She took them over to the tree where her boats stood and carefully leaned mine against the trunk next to hers. I didn’t unpack my yakker gear just yet, since it was clean and dry and didn’t need airing. It would soon enough. The first chance we got, I knew, Mel and I would hit at least one river.
“Cool,” she said, surveying my campsite with a satisfied air. “Let’s go up and see what the schedule is. Then it’s beer-thirty, baby!” I smiled and we piled into the truck so I could park it off to the side in the guide lot before we walked the two hundred yards back up the dirt road to the main building. “You would not believe what Travis told me…” she started as I locked up. I smiled to myself and followed her, enjoying the easy camaraderie between us. I sighed happily to myself. Another great summer in the making.
###
Mel handed me a beer from her cooler after we’d finished talking to Brad. We’d eaten dinner and cleaned up and now it was time to chill. She shut the cooler and covered it with a thick blanket. I twisted the cap off the bottle and settled into the chair next to hers so I could put my feet on one end of the cooler, leaving her with the other end. We’d put the mosquito netting down though Mel’s citronella tiki torches about five feet away probably helped keep bugs at bay. Laughter and the pop and snap of a campfire drifted over to our end of River Rat Junction, closest to the water. I took a sip from my bottle, watching as Mel plopped into the other chair and put her feet up.
“So…how are you?” Mel launched right into the catching up. “You didn’t mention Elaine the last time we emailed…”
I shrugged, though she probably didn’t catch the gesture. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her in a while.” I took another drink. “What about Jill?” I surreptitiously watched her in the flickering light from the torches.
“On again, off again. We’re off right now. No biggie.”
I heard the unspoken “besides, it’s hard to find people who understand my life” at the end of her dismissive tone. Jill couldn’t deal with Mel’s outdoor streak. And Elaine couldn’t deal with mine. Mel and I had talked about that in the past, since both of us suffered from bad cases of outdoor-itis. Secretly, I liked that Mel was currently single. I took a drink to drown a little flare of hope.
“No Elaine…” Mel started. “Does that mean what I think it does?”
“Off again. All around.”
Mel shook her head in disbelief. “Nobody?”
“Nobody. Too busy, I guess.” And too into you. I took a drink to put out a fire Mel couldn’t see.
“It would be so easy for you to get laid,” she said, a laugh in her voice.
I looked over at her, pretending to be offended because it was much simpler than asking her if she was offering to take care of that for me. “Christ, Mel. So I’m a slut now?”
She giggled. “Please. You’re so far from slut you’re almost a damn nun.”
“Thank you,” I grumbled. “I’m so glad you have confidence in my abilities to find a date.”
Mel reached over and squeezed my arm. “Girl, you wouldn’t know someone was interested in you if she had her hands in your shorts and her tongue down your throat.”
We stared at each other for a moment before we both burst out laughing. I leaned back, chuckling, and ran a hand through my hair. “Okay, you’re right. I read water better than women.”
“Maybe you should start reading women like water,” Mel said cryptically.
I regarded her, trying to deduce her meaning.
“Your mom still think you’re nutso?” Mel changed the subject.
I laughed again. “Of course. Why couldn’t I be a banker? Or a doctor? Or normal? My dad’s all right with everything, as usual. He thinks it’s cool, but he’d never outright admit it.”
Mel nodded in understanding. “How’s Doug?”
“Still a rock dog. He’s in Yosemite this month, doing the Big Wall. Mom still doesn’t know how the hell she managed to give birth to two outdoor freaks.” I smiled. “I guess sometimes I feel bad for her.”
She glanced over at me. “No newsflash on my folks. They still don’t care either way. They’re just glad I like what I do. They’ve gone even more crunchy hippie groovy since last fall, even. My dad did have a moment of corporate clarity at Christmas, though. He thinks I should get an MBA if I’m planning to start my own line of gear.”
“I hope you do start your own line. Because if anybody knows whitewater and boating, it’s you.” I took a sip from my bottle.
She chuckled. “If you’re around and bored or something, I’d love it if you’d go in with me. And be prepared, ’cause I’m going to keep after you until I get a positive answer.” Her tone was hopeful.
“Yeah?” I looked at her, surprised.
“I think we work well together,” she added. “So why not?”
I nodded to myself. Why not? “That’d be great. For real. Keep me in mind.”
“I do.”
I glanced at her, wondering about the comment but she didn’t follow up. She took a drink and we sat in comfortable silence for a while. I listened to the gentle rhythm of the Salmon, its current sliding between its banks, sucking and pulling at hidden rocks and overhangs. The camp sat on a slight bend of a placid part, where two deep pools served as swimming holes. Lights from a few houses up on the rise breached the cool black of another canyon night.
“I was thinking the other day about that first summer we met,” Mel suddenly announced.
“Oh?” I thought back, remembering how she took her sunglasses off as I approached her in the parking lot outside the Missoula Safeway store, where I was supposed to hook up with other Outward Bound personnel. She had grinned at me and said, ‘Well, howdy! I’m Melanie but everybody calls me Mel.’ She was so cute. Bouncy. Genuine. I braced my bottle on the arm of my chair and turned to look at her in the dim light the torches afforded.
“And you were so quiet,” she teased, like she had just read my thoughts. “I introduced myself and you said ‘I’m Dez. Good to meet you.’ It was another week before I found out it was short for Desiree. Which is so not you.”
“Don’t I know it,” I sighed. “My poor mom. She wanted some frou-frou little thing in perky dresses for a daughter. Maybe she hoped I’d become my name.”
Mel snorted. “Not a chance. I’ve seen those pictures of you as a kid. Wearing Doug’s skanky hand-me-down shorts and t-shirts. I think you had scabs and bruises somewhere on you in every freakin’ photo.” She reached over and pinched my cheek affectionately. “A baby dyke in the making. Cute as hell.”
I blushed, hoping Mel didn’t notice.
She was quiet for a bit before continuing. “And that was such a great summer, even though we worked our fucking asses off and got chewed half to death…”
“The mosquitoes were pretty outta hand,” I agreed. “And those fucking biting flies, too.”
“Oh, my God. Do you remember that second week we were out there and that moose tried to take your shirt off the clothesline?” She laughed softly in the dark. “Alaska rocks.”
I grinned. “That was kinda funny. Jan scared it off. Good thing, since I was butt-ass naked in my tent trying to find a pair of clean shorts.”
“There was moose spit all over the collar. So when we went back to Missoula, we had to have that Moose Drool beer to commemorate it.” Mel giggled. “Too bad they wanted to send us to the Sonoran the next summer. OB was fun until then.” She paused. “Not that there’s anything wrong with deserts. I just don’t think I could spend an entire summer in one.” She sounded wistful.
“Well, we are water dogs, my friend.” I reached my right hand over to her left and clinked my beer bottle against hers. “And we have a hell of a good time every river we run.”
“True…” she lapsed into silence then, staring at the flame of one of the torches. “God, I love rivers,” she added quietly. “Umm…speaking of which…” she cleared her throat slightly. “I haven’t asked you about Rob in a while. And it’s not because I didn’t want to.”
My hand tightened around my beer bottle then relaxed. “I know. I haven’t brought him up lately.”
“So…”
“I’m okay.” I exhaled. “Damn. It’s been almost two years...”
She waited for me to continue, leaning forward slightly.
I sighed. “I don’t talk to his folks as much anymore. Maybe once every three months. I think it’s hard for all of us because it’s just a reminder.” I started working the label off the beer bottle, putting the strips of paper in my lap. “He went out doing what he loved to do.” I picked at a particularly stubborn piece of paper. “If only we all had that option.”
“Do you still worry when you’re on the water?”
I looked over at her. “Not really. Sometimes, though, I think about what I’m doing out there. I mean, he was one of the best boaters I knew. And if he got his ass kicked, what does that mean for the rest of us?” I pulled the remnants of the label off. “But I know you can’t live that way. I love boating. I love rivers. All I can do is respect the power of each and do my best to learn the currents.” I stared at the flame from the closest torch. “He was another brother in a lot of ways…” My chest tightened. “And yeah, I miss him.”
“Hey,” Mel said softly. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” I smiled at her. “Thanks for asking. It’s good for me to talk about it.” I watched her eyes and felt something else entirely in my gut. “So how’s the gear testing going?”
“Excellent,” she answered, following my lead. “I’m trying out a whole new set of yakker fashion for Outside, so we have to do some seriously hardcore shit and see how much abuse it takes. It’s a new company on the scene that’s been bragging its stuff is the best for whitewater.” She turned to look at me and even in the faint light from the torches, I could see the mischievous glint in her eyes. A little pleasurable twinge raced from my throat to my thighs. I hastily shoved it aside.
“Of course,” Mel added, “they obviously didn’t count on me testing it.”
“I hope you brought more than one set,” I said innocently.
“Of course. Plus my own stuff. You know how I am. A little wild, but prepared.”
“A regular damn girl scout,” I agreed, teasing her. “Able to run the gnarliest rapids east of the Mississippi and still maintain a manicure throughout.”
She stuck her tongue out at me. “Why do anything if you can’t look good at the same time?”
“Uhhh…because maybe you enjoy doing it for the hell of it?”
“Purist,” she snorted.
“Diva,” I replied.
“Definitely.” She laughed and raised her bottle in a toast. “Drink up, girl. You’ve got recon to do tomorrow.”
I smiled. “Here’s to good water and good friends,” I said as I raised my own bottle.
“And another kick-ass summer,” she added.
Definitely. I finished up and stuffed the remnants of the label down the bottle’s neck before I put it in the plastic bag designated for recyclables. “Good night,” I said as I started to unzip the netting.
“Dez—”
I turned.
“It’s really good to see you.” Something in her voice made me think she wanted to say more, but she didn’t and I decided I imagined it.
“Ditto. See you tomorrow.”
She nodded and I left, zipping the side up again. I walked the few paces to my tent, wondering at the strange crackle in the air between us. Just glad to see her. That’s all. I took my toiletry kit and beach towel to the bathroom for a shower. When I returned to my tent, Mel was apparently already in hers, since the torches were out and her campsite was dark. I quietly approached from the side farthest away from her tent and draped my towel over the clothesline I’d strung between two nearby cottonwoods. That done, I unzipped the entrance to my tent.
“Good night, Dez,” came Mel’s sleepy voice.
I stopped, my fingers still holding the zipper pull. “’Night. Get some sleep.”
She muttered something I didn’t catch. I eased into my tent, trying to leave a fleeting thought outside. No deal. It followed me in and hovered in a corner near my clothes, where it kept replaying that night last summer, when I inadvertently spooned her and liked it way too much. That is so wrong, I scolded myself. She’s my guide buddy. We’re tight like that. And it would fuck up the great dynamic between us if I acted on that little fantasy with her. I put my toiletry kit on the little camp table I kept in my tent and changed into boxers and a clean tee. I clicked my flashlight off and lay on top of my sleeping bag, glad for the soothing sound of the river. Within minutes, I fell asleep but Mel’s grin was the last thing on my mind.
###
I smiled down at the girl, who Brad had pointed out to me a few minutes ago. She’d be in my group this afternoon and I always liked to establish a rapport with kids right away. That way, they’d trust you on the water and if something happened, I knew they’d listen to me.
She studied me in that way little kids do. Open and curious. I estimated her age at about eight. She wore pink shorts, pink sandals, and a turquoise t-shirt with little flowers across the front. She was looking up at me with what might have been awe. Long blond hair, blue eyes. Poor thing, I thought. She’ll be fighting the boys off by junior high.
“Hi. You’re going to be in my boat today,” I said, letting her know why I was standing there looking at her.
She regarded me like she was trying to figure something out. “Are you a girl?” she asked.
“Yep.” The question didn’t bother me. I got used to it in grade school and blew it off in high school, when it was apparent that I was going to stand about five-nine and end up built like my brother. Angular, narrow-hipped, and sort of boyish.
“How come your hair’s short?”
“It dries faster. I spend a lot of time on rivers.”
She thought about that for a bit. “Do you live here?” She asked finally.
“For the summer. I’ve been here about a month.”
She continued to study me. “What’s your name?” Kids were good about saying what was on their minds.
“Dez. What’s yours?”
“Britney.” She said it shyly, like she was embarrassed about it.
“That’s a nice name,” I encouraged her. “Do you have a nickname?”
She shrugged. “My brother calls me Britty.”
I nodded, pretending to think about it. “That’s not so bad. Do you like it?”
“No,” she said, twisting the bottom of her tee in her fingers. “My brother’s dumb.”
I stifled a smile. “I’m sure he likes you. He just doesn’t know how to say it.”
She shrugged again and scuffed the toe of her sandal against the wooden floor of the LSRC. “Carrie tells him to stop ’cause she knows I don’t like it.”
“Who’s Carrie?”
“That would be me,” said a college-aged woman wearing a blue baseball cap over her long brown hair as she approached from my right. She looked fit, like she spent some time outdoors. She wore rafting sandals, knee-length surfboard shorts, and a tight-fitting short-sleeved shirt made of some non-chafing material hugged her torso. She stood next to Britney. “I’m her sister.”
Cute, I thought. And she didn’t look like I’d need to worry about her on the water. “Excellent,” I said, smiling at her. “I’m Dez and it looks like I’m your guide for this event.”
“So I heard.” She scrutinized me in a way that seemed a little too intimate though she did have a nice smile. “Dez…” Carrie repeated. “I like it.”
I looked at her, not sure what to say. “Uh…yeah. Easy to remember,” I managed.
She regarded me beneath the brim of her baseball cap and a slow smile pulled the corners of her mouth up. “Or hard to forget.”
I was saved from further conversation because Brad paged me from the counter in his own special way. He made a bullhorn with his hands and said in a slow, loud announcer’s voice, “Parker. Dez Parker. Please join us at the counter at your earliest convenience.” A few people looked at him then at me before resuming their browsing through the shirts and doo-dads.
Relieved, I looked back at Carrie. “Excuse me for a minute.”
“No problem.”
I went to the counter, where another woman stood talking with Brad. I heard him explaining that rafting trips with kids involved nothing stronger than Class II rapids, which don’t necessarily require a guide but one is recommended, especially for inexperienced boaters.
“Hi,” I said. “You must be Britney’s mom.” An older version of her youngest daughter, she looked athletic enough, I surmised. Tank top and nylon shorts that hit mid-thigh. “I’m Dez. Brad’s probably told you that you’ll be on my boat today.”
Britney’s mom glanced up at me. “I’m Tina.” She looked past me, parental worry on her face.
“She’s over there with Carrie,” I assured her.
Tina relaxed and on cue, Carrie and Britney headed toward us.
“Do you have any questions right now that I can answer? Brad’s probably taken care of the technical stuff…” I looked at him and he nodded.
“Dez is cream of the crop. You’re in good hands,” he said.
“Safety and fun,” I said, chuckling. “That’s my mantra.”
Brad grinned. “Hold on a second…be right back.” He moved away to help a couple of older men, probably part of the pre-Fourth weekend crowd trying to get some rafting in.
“Thank you,” Tina said, directing the statement to both me and Brad.
Britney let go of Carrie’s hand and took mine in its place. “Can I sit next to you?” her eyes widened with hope.
I smiled. “We’ll see, okay? I put people where I think they’ll be safest and have the most fun. If I think you’ll be safest next to me, you can sit there. How’s that?”
She seemed disappointed, but only for an instant. She kept holding on to my hand and with her other she wound a lock of her hair around her index finger.
“Any chance I can sit next to you?” Carrie asked, folding her arms over her chest, smiling in a way that even I knew was flirtatious. I swallowed hard and let go of Britney’s hand.
Brad saved me again, returning with paperwork for Tina.
“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Right. So…Brad’ll finish up and send you out back. We’ll get you all fitted with wetsuits. The water can be cold, even this time of year.” I glanced at Carrie, who was looking at me with a little smile on her lips. I cleared my throat. “We’ll have our safety talk before we head out but if you have any questions, let me know.” I offered a little wave at Britney and she shyly waved back. I turned and ran smack into Mel.
“You’d make a great parent,” she said.
“You think?”
“Totally. Britney is so crushed out on you that she’s ready to sign up for guide school right now. That was so freakin’ cute, when she grabbed your hand.”
I shrugged, sheepish.
Mel shook her head. “For the record, though, I’m not very good with kids so if you bring yours river-running in the future, they’ll have to ride in your boat.”
“Please,” I chided. “You know I don’t want kids. Too much work and I’m way too selfish.” I elbowed her playfully in the ribs.
She giggled. “I don’t think I agree with the selfish part, but yeah, way too much work.” She struck a bad-ass pose. “You ready for water wars with me, hotshot? I’ve got a group scheduled with yours.”
“Oh, hell yeah. Britney and I will kick your sorry raft-riding ass!” I struck a fake karate pose. “The spirit of the wa-tuh is upon me!”
Mel rolled her eyes though she was grinning like a fiend. “Sounds like a challenge. Wettest guide buys the next case of beer.”
Wettest? I bit a suggestive comment back and instead retorted, “Get your money ready.”
She made a “whatever” gesture with her hand and rolled her eyes as I brushed past, headed out back for the storage sheds where we kept wetsuits and booties, organized on racks and shelves by size. Steve and Lisa kept the sheds clean and they used round gravel to cover the floors so the wetsuits and booties could drip dry. The system ensured that suits stayed mildew-free.
I’d have six passengers on this trip. Britney was the youngest and the oldest was a man I estimated to be in his sixties. We talked a bit while I helped people select the proper size wetsuits. The two younger guys and Carrie opted not to wear them. Twenty minutes later, I assembled my group near the entrance of the first shed and launched into my spiel, using the opportunity to assess their physical fitness levels and “vibe,” Mel called it. If I had any misgivings about anyone, I’d take him or her aside and chat further.
“Hi…I’m Dez and I’ll be your guide this afternoon.” I said it jokingly, like a museum tour docent. It tended to put people at ease. “A bit about me…I’ve been working as a certified guide for four years. This is my second year on the Little Salmon. I’ve worked the Arkansas River in Colorado and the Snake River in Wyoming. I started kayaking when I was about ten and I’ve ridden whitewater in all western states, plus some rivers overseas.” I paused for effect. “The Little Salmon Rafting Company has one of the best safety records in a five-state region. All guides are required to be certified in swift-water rescue and first aid. Consequently, my biggest thing is safety. Straight up, folks, rivers are dangerous.”
I stood with my hands on my hips, looking especially hard at the two guys who appeared to be in their early twenties. “People die on rivers every year. The number one reason for that is because they don’t take simple safety procedures. The number two reason is because they underestimate the water and overestimate themselves.” I looked at Britney. “That means that people sometimes think they’re stronger than they really are.”
“Like my brother,” she responded matter-of-factly, nodding.
I chuckled at that then asked Tina to step forward. She had her life jacket on and buckled. I gestured toward her as I talked. “One of the easiest things you can do is wear a life jacket. And if you don’t wear one, you don’t ride with me.” The two college-aged guys started fiddling with the plastic clips on their jackets. I turned back to Tina. “Here’s how you tell whether it fits or not. Tina, excuse me.” I smiled and gripped her arm holes so I could pull upward. “You see how there’s not much give there?” I asked, turning my head to look at the other five in my party. “It’s not too tight and it’s not loose. That’s the fit you want. If it’s too loose, it could block your movements if something happens. If it’s too tight, you might not be able to breathe. Thanks, Tina. Now here’s how you buckle it and adjust it.” I demonstrated on Tina then went through my group, checking each jacket. I paid special attention to Britney’s.
“Nice. Okay.” I looked at everyone in turn. “The key to rafting is not only having a good time, but being prepared for contingencies. I’m going to take us through some fast water. Some might be a little rough. There’ll be straps on the boat to hang onto. However, on occasion, someone falls out. First thing you do is don’t panic. What’s the next thing you do?”
“Get on your back and point your feet downstream,” Carrie said.
“Bingo.” I looked over at her then back at the others. “If you fall out, your jacket will keep you floating and on your back. Point your feet downstream—Britney, that’s the direction the water goes—and make your plan to get to shore. If the current is too strong in that section, ride it out as best you can but keep headed for shore, especially if you can’t get back to the boat. Use the current to your advantage. I’ll also be trying to help you back aboard. But remember, the water’s cold and the longer you stay in it, the more energy and heat it sucks out of you. So if you can’t get back to the boat, head for shore. And if someone falls out, what should the rest of us do?”
“Stay with the boat,” Carrie answered again.
“Bingo again. You’ve clearly done this before. Excellent.”
She smiled, appreciative of the recognition.
“Great,” I continued, a little uncomfortable under her direct gaze. “And why do we want to stay with the boat and not jump in after the person who falls out?”
“’Cause then we’ll all be in a shitload of trouble.” One of the young guys announced.
Before I could respond, Britney piped up. “My daddy says you’re not supposed to say that word unless you hit your finger with a hammer.”
Snickers and giggles swept through the crowd. The young man looked embarrassed. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Thanks for the reminder, Britney,” I continued. “But bad word or not, he’s right. If we all jump out of the boat, then there are seven of us in the water instead of one. So stay with the boat and—this is extremely important—listen to my instructions. I’m here to make sure you have a good time and get back safely. I’ve got lots of experience. So trust me.” I paused, letting it sink in. “All right. Before we get on the shuttle, everybody turn and look at that other group.”
They all did. “You see that woman in the red jacket and blue shorts?”
Everyone nodded.
“That’s Mel. She’ll be guiding the other raft. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get her and her raft as wet as you possibly can. Splash the heck out of her. I’ll buy everybody a round of sodas if we win.” I winked and lowered my sunglasses from the top of my head to my eyes. “All set? Let’s saddle up!”
My team headed for one of the vans with enthusiastic whoops. I threw a look over my shoulder at Mel, who was still doing her safety talk. She caught my eye and waved. I waved back and let my gaze linger on her a bit longer than maybe I should have. Whatever. Nothing wrong with enjoying a nice view. Plus, my shades hid my eyes.
I waited at the van’s entrance, making sure people got settled. Mel was doing the same at the van parked right next to ours. I watched the older man step up into my van. He seemed fit. I turned to Carrie, the last in line.
“So…” she said, holding off on boarding. “I have a question.”
“Sure. That’s what I’m here for.” I kept my tone light.
She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “When do you get off work?”
I looked at her, a little surprised, but I answered anyway. “This is my last run today.”
“We’ll be at the Pine Lodge Grill around seven, if you’re into it.” The side of her mouth quirked in a half-grin and she watched my face.
I smiled, noncommittal, and thought about a quickie with Carrie. It had been a while since I’d been wrapped around a woman. Carrie was cute. Athletic. Curvaceous…so why didn’t I feel much like going there with her?
“Hey, hotshot,” Mel cat-called, coming around her van. “Get your butt on in there so I can properly whup it.” She bounced toward me, pretending to box.
“I’d like to see you try,” I said, and thoughts of that quickie with Carrie fell right out of my head.
Mel snorted and looked at Carrie. “I always make room for anyone who wants to give Dez a proper whitewater initiation…” she offered.
Carrie smiled lazily at her. “No, thanks. I’m more into sight-seeing.”
Mel furrowed her brow, puzzled.
“There’s a nice view in this raft,” Carrie explained, turning her gaze pointedly to me before she climbed into the van.
Mel’s grin suddenly looked forced. I shrugged helplessly and her expression softened a little.
“Here’s my prediction,” she taunted. “I think I’ll be drinking the expensive beer tonight.” She struck a Vogue pose. “Fasten your seatbelts,” she said in a passable Bette Davis imitation. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”
I laughed and climbed into the van. I was still chuckling as we headed out to our launching point.
###
“We’re even,” Mel said petulantly as she folded her clothes in the laundromat the next afternoon.
“No way. I have one over you. Yesterday and today. It’s your turn to buy the beer.” I pulled my shorts and tees out of the dryer and tossed them onto the yellow table. A few locals were engaged in the same chore. Mel was busy at the table next to mine.
“Cheater.” She threw a sock at me. I caught it.
“Nuh-uh. I’m always honorable about my bets. Even when I lose.” I threw the sock back at her and she snagged it with her left hand.
“You still planning on hanging out for the Fourth?” She asked hopefully, changing the topic.
Saturday. Day after tomorrow. “Of course. Don’t I always?” I folded my shorts.
“Well…” she started. “You never know. Maybe you’ve got a date with one of the little
tourist girls who got herself all crushed out on the sexy river guide. You and your tall, dark self. With your cute-ass butchy hair.”
I looked over at her and rolled my eyes. “And that’s happened exactly how many times in the past?”
She shrugged and got really focused on her laundry. “That one yesterday seemed pretty interested,” she muttered.
“Which?” I stopped folding and looked at her but I knew she was referring to Carrie.
“That one. Board shorts and baseball cap.”
My turn to shrug. I concentrated on folding another t-shirt.
“Did you?”
I glanced at Mel, hearing a tightness in her voice that I didn’t recognize. She kept her eyes on her own laundry, folding a towel.
“Did I what?”
She didn’t answer right away. I watched as she folded the towel again.
“What?” I repeated.
Mel raised a shoulder in a quick “you know” gesture and folded the towel again.
I watched her, puzzled. Why would she care? “Mel…”
“Did you meet her last night?” she blurted, finally looking up at me. We stared at each other for a long time and I almost forgot what we were talking about as I watched thoughts I couldn’t read shift in her eyes. She broke first and went back to work on the towel.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “That’s none of my business.” She finally finished with the towel and started on a t-shirt.
I concentrated on my own shirts. “No,” I said after a while, puzzled at her reaction. Was she jealous? Like Carrie could ever replace Mel.
She stopped and looked at me. “No, what? That it’s not my business?”
“Jesus,” I said, grimacing. “No, I didn’t meet her.” I resumed folding. “I checked the paperwork when we got back. She’s twenty. And you know my rule.” If she can’t buy her own booze, I don’t follow up.
Mel seemed to relax but it was short-lived. “So if she was twenty-one…”
I stopped again and took a deep breath. “Mel, what the fuck? She was cute. And interested. So what if I feel like getting some?”
Mel glared at me. “So that’s all it is to you?”
“Wha—oh, for Christ’s sake.” I felt myself getting pissed. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m an adult and I’m not in a relationship. What do you care?”
She didn’t respond and I let the question hover over us as we went back to folding in silence.
After a while, I surreptitiously glanced over at her. She looked really cute when she was mad or frustrated about something because she unconsciously pushed her lower lip out in a slight pout.
“So I’m a ‘sexy river guide,’ huh?” I asked, trying to break her mood.
She looked up at me, frowning.
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “ ‘Cute-ass butchy hair’? You’re one to talk, with your hot-ass new ’do and your tight little body. Maybe you’re the one with the hot date.”
Her frown faded and I thought for a second she was blushing. “Whatever.” She began
folding her underwear. I clenched my teeth and turned my attention to my own clothes. Mel wore great panties. Sporty little bikinis in all kinds of colors and patterns. God, I’m a pervert. Getting off on her underwear. Or rather, on thoughts of getting her out of it. Shit.
“When’s your next full day off?” she suddenly asked, letting me know she was over whatever was bugging her.
“Wednesday.” I added a t-shirt to my stack.
“Think you could spare some time for a little yakkin’?”
I stopped folding and looked at her. “Do bears shit in the woods?”
“Not if they’re at Yellowstone. Then they shit in your tent.”
I started laughing. “Yes, Mel. I can spare some time for yakkin’ with you, my ultra-best most fun river guide buddy. You wanna scout a stretch when we’re done here?”
She smiled at me and I knew it was an affirmative. Sweet. Some time with Mel. We’d both been so busy we hadn’t had any bonding space except for one short kayak trip two weeks ago. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, suppressing an urge to reach over, run my fingers through her mop of hair, and kiss the living hell out of her. Instead, I finished folding my clothes and we loaded our baskets into her Subaru.
“North or south?” she asked as she started the engine.
“South. Let’s check the Payette. Travis was saying the North Fork has some great water.”
“Cool.” She backed out of the parking lot and eased onto the blacktop. “I still have to wear out that second set of gear from that company,” she said, laughing.
“I’d be honored to be in your presence when that happened,” I said, feigning a serious demeanor. We both laughed as she accelerated into the early evening shadows that managed to reach the canyon floor. I opened my window and sighed contentedly.
###
Saturday a few of us gathered around the firepit in front of Brad’s tent to watch the fireworks the locals shot off, in spite of the ban. Mike lay on his side near Brad’s tent, oblivious to the snaps and muffled booms. He was snoring as only a big lab can do. The dog was unfazed about everything. Travis and Jenny sat together, holding hands. They cut an odd pair. He, a big, broad dude and she, a small petite brunette. Jim, a compact, muscular guy who wore his blond hair in a ponytail, was hanging with us as well, and Mary, one of the new guides, was on her way over. Because beer and a water dog lifestyle often coalesce into feats of juvenile silliness, by the time Mary arrived we had a rousing game of Truth or Dare going.
“Travis,” Brad said at his turn. “What’ll it be, pal?”
“Truth,” he answered, clearly not willing to take another chance on dare.
Brad took a swig of beer. “What’s your favorite sexual position with Jenny?” He waggled his eyebrows and we all hooted. Jenny turned five shades of red.
“Shit…” Travis groaned. “Any,” he said triumphantly and we all laughed.
“Good answer,” Mary interjected as she opened her camp chair and sat down. Jim passed her a beer.
Three rounds later and it was Jenny’s turn again. “Mel…”
We all turned to look at Mel.
“Truth or dare?” Jenny asked.
“Umm…truth.” Mel smiled and propped her beer on her thigh.
Jenny leaned forward. “Do you have a non-celebrity crush on anyone right now?”
“Shit,” Mel groaned. “Should’ve picked dare.” She sighed. “Okay…” A feisty little grin pulled the corners of her mouth up. “All right,” she said, looking directly at Jenny. “Yes…”
I started, like someone had thrown cold water on me. A weird sick feeling churned in my stomach. A crush?
“…and everybody here in this group knows who it is,” Mel finished.
We all sat in silence, staring at her.
“Damn,” Travis finally said. “Do we know that we know?”
Mel sat back, smug. “That’s another question.”
My gut clenched and I couldn’t breathe. Images of all the guides at River Rat Junction flashed through my mind. Who? There weren’t that many women…maybe Mel had a crush on a guy…? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. And I didn’t want to play anymore even as everybody else
let their breath out in a collective “oooooh.”
“That’s juicy.” Jim leaned back and took a swig from his bottle. “Of course, a handsome guy like me, it’s clear I’m the object of your deepest desires.”
Brad choked on a laugh and Jenny rolled her eyes.
Mel shrugged and raised her bottle to her lips. Her eyes seemed to twinkle in the light from the dying fire. Speaking of crushes, I thought, a sour taste in my mouth. I now understood exactly why they were called “crushes.” Because they crushed the shit out of you.
I stared at my feet and when I looked up, Mel met my eyes with hers, a puzzled, worried expression on her face. I made a show of looking at my watch. “Shit. As much as I’d like to hang out here and pry more information out of Mel, I’m on early tomorrow.”
Jim nodded. “Same here. Y’all carry on, now. But I want a full report…” He smiled and stood up with me. I forced a grin.
“No fair,” Brad grumbled. “Next game, it’s open season on Dez.”
I shrugged. “Hey, a girl needs her beauty rest. Good night, all. Catch you in the morning.” I left before anyone said anything more but I didn’t go back to my tent. I went down to the river, to a sandy stretch that served as a beach. Brad, Jim, and I had dragged a log here a month ago and I sat on it, listening to the water as it rushed past in the dark. A few lone firecrackers snapped in the distance. I clenched my teeth and stared up at the sky, not sure why I was feeling freaked out. It’s only a stupid high school game. Mel might have fibbed. Maybe she just wanted to mess with us.
And why the fuck do I care? So I have a freakin’ crush, too. Whatever. It’ll pass. I angrily pushed Mel out of my head, staring at the river. The moonlight on the water made me think of Rob. He used to love sitting near a river after dark like this and I’d joined him many times. He was really easy to talk to. Moreso than Doug and that’s why I came to think of Rob as a second brother. I’d learned a lot about rivers and boating from him, and I still had one of his paddles on my back porch at home.
On nights like this, when the sky spread like an ocean overhead and the stars seemed to shift like rafts in its waves, I really missed him.. And if I was trying to figure something out, he’d let me vent as long as I needed to. Tonight was definitely a vent night. Rob’d probably say, “damn, Dez. Just fuckin’ tell her already. She’s cool, so if she’s not into you like that, no problem. She’ll still chill with you.” I heard footsteps scuffing across the gravel and sand. Mel took a seat on the log to my right.
“You okay?” She asked softly.
I wanted her to disappear, to leave me with my confusion and memories. But I also wanted her to stay.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Just hanging out.”
“You want to talk?”
I heard concern in her voice. “No. I’m okay.” My fingertips hurt from where they dug into the wood.
“You’d tell me if something was really bothering you, right?” Mel pushed.
“Sure. Don’t I always?” I hoped she didn’t pick up on the edge in my tone.
She didn’t respond and instead she stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. “You know where to find me.” She squeezed gently. “Good night.”
“Thanks,” I said to her retreating back, thinking that she wanted to say something more but didn’t. I willed my ass to remain planted on that log, willed my sandals to remain on the ground because if I didn’t, I’d be throwing myself at her, telling her stupid shit like nobody in the camp was good enough for her, that nobody really understood her or knew her moods. Nobody there could ever run a river with her and truly appreciate her skills and her gifts. Nobody. Except maybe me.
I glared into the darkness, irritated at my arrogance and completely off-kilter about whatever the hell these feelings for Mel were attempting to be. I tried to visualize us hugging and saying goodbye at the end of this summer, like we always did. I tried to visualize emailing and calling every once in a while, like usual. Tried. Couldn’t. Instead, I only wanted to sneak into her tent and snuggle up against her again. I wanted to kiss her and get sweaty with her and slide over her bare skin like the Payette’s current over the bow of my boat on a hot day. I rubbed my temples, physically attempting to banish those thoughts. It’s Mel. My guide buddy.
Summers on the water just make me freaky. Everything is condensed time-wise. You live a lifetime in a month, it seems. I exhaled slowly. So how come she hadn’t told me about her crush? Maybe that’s what bothered me. We confided in each other…why hadn’t she told me? I frowned. Because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Maybe she knew I might be into her and she was letting me down nicely.
Fuck. I stood and headed back to my tent. I had work to do tomorrow. Get over it. I stood near my screenhouse, glaring into the dark. Mel was getting ready for bed. She kept a battery-operated camp lantern in her tent and I saw her silhouette in its glow, sitting on her sleeping bag, probably. I chewed my lower lip. Sure. No problem. I can get over five summers in a day or so, I thought sarcastically. Who doesn’t?
I unzipped my tent and retrieved my toiletry kit before practically yanking my towel off the clothesline on my way to the bathroom. After I got ready for bed, I lay awake in the dark for a long time, thinking about all the summers Mel and I had spent together, about how easy it was to be around her and how I felt most like myself when she was near. I finally fell into an exhausted sleep, hoping that the morning light would help clear my head.
###
My sport kayak caught a swell in the rapids and plummeted into a trough, water splashing all around, individual drops momentarily catching sunlight before disappearing in the froth beneath my bow. I whooped, exhilarated, as the river held my boat’s hull for a split second then released me. These were Class III, which required experience, but not necessarily expert, rating. We’d done a set of Class V earlier, considered expert only whitewater, and we ran it with technical precision, start to finish. Here, I relaxed and executed a beautiful spin, digging my kayak’s bow into a sharp portside turn. I leaned hard to my left and caught an eddy behind a boulder so I could float in place and watch Mel.
She was shouting and laughing as she performed loops in a hole—a place on a river where the current backspun slightly and sucked downward to the riverbed, creating a perpetual curled wave that you could ride in place and do enders and other tricks for however long you wanted. Or however long your skills held up.
Inexperienced playboaters avoided holes, and for good reason. They could be damn dangerous if you didn’t have the strength, skill level, or confidence to ride them. And even then, there were no guarantees. I watched as Mel slid the bow of her kayak into the backswell then somersaulted backward, hull to the sky. She was completely submerged but reappeared a second later.
Damn. She was so graceful. I was considered an expert, but Mel was a hell of an expert. I loved watching her ride a river, loved how she read its nuances, and how she seemed to form a connection between herself and the current. Uncanny, a few of the other guides said of her abilities. True river rat, I knew. Mel and I both grew up on rivers, and I could read water pretty well. But Mel…Mel’s spirit tied itself to whatever river she rode, so within days, it was like she grew up on that particular waterway, or like she was an old friend come home.
I watched her, thinking that rivers were life to me, that the ways they flowed mimicked the paths our lives sometimes took. Calm spots sandwiched between whitewater, long stretches of both, and through it all, you hopefully hung on and kept your paddle. Mel looped again and even from my vantage point, I saw her broad grin, saw her spirit inseparable from the water and I knew at that moment that no matter who her crush was, and no matter what happened, I’d deal with it because I needed Mel in my life, even if it was just a summer every once in a while.
In just a few days since the Fourth, I had successfully compartmentalized my feelings so I could continue to interact with her as I always had. Whatever weirdness that hung between us since the game of Truth of Dare seemed to have disappeared. I did notice, however, that she didn’t mention her crush again and I didn’t bring it up. I was just glad to be on the water with her, witnessing the ways she coaxed the river to let her play, to let her ride, to let her exist out here on the boundary between earth and sky.
Mel shot out of the hole and tore along a current that brought her right next to me. She slapped at the water with her paddle, dousing me as she raced past. Water ran off my helmet down my jacket. She laughed and the sound ran off my heart, down my veins.
“C’mon, Dez! Show me somethin’!” And she tore a line through the rapids.
If you only knew what I wanted to show you, I thought as I spun my bow downstream and gave chase. I carved a different line to the left of hers, studying the water and how it flowed over the bed and between the banks. We were approaching a section confined between two glowering canyon walls that constricted the river’s flow, making the water try to force itself through the bottleneck, roiling and roaring and trapping a lot of potentially dangerous energy in one place.
I dug my paddle in hard and spun myself starboard, sliding easily around a massive granite boulder. Mel rode her line like a tightrope walker, completely certain, wholly at ease. I kept my eye on her blue splash jacket and white helmet as she disappeared around a bend, expertly negotiating a tricky slide between two more huge boulders.
I followed, increasing my speed, adrenaline kicking my senses into high gear. I sliced between the two sentinels and skimmed to my right, avoiding a hole, and jetted into a rapid whose whitecaps curled like breaking ocean waves.
Mel was doing loops and spins in a more popular and less dangerous hole just ahead and I timed my arrival to coincide with her submersion. As she popped out of the water, I nailed her with a blast of water from my paddle and skipped over the hole, accompanied by the sound of her laughter.
“Nice one,” she shouted after me.
I knew she’d catch up if she wanted to, so I stopped and practiced a few rolls and loops myself before I saw her approach. She drew closer, raising her voice so I could hear her over the Payette’s dull roar.
“Last one in buys dinner!” She grinned and dug her paddle in, lean, powerful strokes, on her way to the tricky set of narrows. I followed, concentrating on the current. This part could be difficult. Inexperienced paddlers generally didn’t ride this patch. I’d done it a few times, as had Mel, but rivers varied daily. Every time you ran a stretch—no matter how often—it was different than the last, depending on the season and water level.
We’d checked that morning and learned the water level had dropped, creating a couple of treacherous sections in this chute, including a hole to the left that lurked near the canyon wall and had the potential to tip your boat and hold you against the cliffside. If you flipped over, the hole wasn’t powerful enough to drag you to the bottom like some, but it might prevent you from righting yourself right away and you’d end up wearing yourself out, which was a danger, too.
Jim and Travis ran this section last week and both recommended riding a starboard line, close to that canyon wall until you just about hit a huge boulder. Then, like a surfer carving a wave, if you leaned hard left so your hull faced the wall momentarily, you could use your paddle to keep yourself away from the hole on the left if you needed to, as long as you kept your boat in that starboard current. You might spin, Jim said, but paddle a couple strokes right then left and you should be okay.
These instructions echoed through my mind as I entered the chute and instinctively hugged the right side. I tended toward conservatism in my boating and didn’t take many unnecessary chances. Even the best water dog could misjudge something, after all. Like Rob. I quit thinking about him and focused on the task at hand.
I had a full view of Mel’s back as she stayed to the right. Looking good, I thought. I hoped she didn’t get one of her wild hairs here. I relaxed, but she suddenly whooped and shoved hard left. I stared, aghast, as the bow of her boat caught the hole and she battled to maintain her balance. She misjudged and she spun around and the hole’s backspin easily flipped her over.
Holy shit! I jetted after her, trying to reach her boat with my paddle so I could bump it. Instead, the current pulled me toward the hole and shoved me against the left-hand canyon wall. “Mel!” I shouted, watching helplessly as her kayak stayed upside-down. I dug my paddle into the hole, trying to crawl across it like I would a riptide.
Somehow, Mel’s boat bounced out of the hole and headed downstream just as she righted herself, still holding her paddle. Every nerve ending I had screamed in both relief and anger at her stunt. I concentrated on getting myself out, swearing as I felt my stern getting pulled back in. “Shit,” I hissed between my teeth, throwing myself forward into the current. It was like battling a strong magnet.
Finally, I ripped clear and slammed through the chute’s exit into a stretch of relatively calm water that left the canyon behind. No sign of Mel. Fuck. I scanned from bank to bank, taking advantage of the flattened river’s slower pace.
There…on a stretch of sand along the right-hand bank. Her kayak, pulled up onto dry ground, one end of her paddle resting on the bow. I cruised over to the shallow water and pulled my neoprene spray skirt off the lip of my coaming. I grounded myself on shore and hefted myself out then pulled my boat farther away from the water with one hand, my paddle in my other.
Where the hell is Mel? I set my paddle against my boat and went over to hers as I looked toward the thick underbrush and pine that lined the bank. “Mel!” I called. Maybe she had gone to pee. She really pissed me off, taking that kind of chance. I returned to my kayak, trying to calm down. I reached inside for my water bottle and took a long drink. I sealed the cap and was in the process of stashing it when I heard footsteps running on the pebble-laden sand. I turned just in time for Mel to tackle me.
I stumbled backward into the water and lost my footing. The cold water stung my bare calves and closed over my head. I heard Mel laughing, a muffled sound.
“Goddammit!” I bellowed, surging to my feet. Mel’s weight pushed me back under. Ultra-pissed now, I wrapped my arms around her—awkward, since I had to reach around my life vest and hers—and pulled her in as well. We wrestled like that in the water for a few seconds, Mel probably thinking it was all in fun as I hollered and swore. She kept laughing and tackled me again as I flailed in the water.
“Shit! Knock it off!” I tried to dislodge her but she held on.
“Awesome ride, huh?” She chortled as we thrashed in the water.
“Dammit! Get off me!” I pushed her away and regained my balance. “Fucking idiot!” I shouted at her. “What the fuck was that?”
She stopped, breathing heavily, and looked at me, surprised.
“What the fuck was that? You knew there was a hole there!” I kicked water at her. “What the fuck were you thinking? Jesus fucking Christ!”
She stared at me, water running down the creases of her jacket.
“Shit,” I continued. “You could have fucking…” I trailed off and kicked the water again, furious. “What is wrong with you?” I turned away and slogged toward shore, water tugging at my knees. Stupid-ass, immature…
“Dez,” she started. “C’mon…” She grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and pulled me around to face her. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”
The look I gave her made her release my jacket, hurt filling her eyes. She held both of her hands up, palms forward in an “I’m sorry” gesture.
“You scared the living shit out of me,” I said, sounding harsh and gesturing emphatically. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re too good to do crap like that.” I wanted to strangle her, hug her, kiss her, kick her ass all at the same time. “Jesus,” I hissed instead.
She started to say something but I cut her off. “What the fuck? You think I want to search-party you out of this fucking river?”
“Dez…” she put her hands on her hips.
“I don’t want to hear it. You were fucking hot-dogging. In a section that could kick your ass. Hot-dogging,” I repeated for emphasis. “Just like Rob was.” I turned away, suddenly wanting to cry. I exited the water and headed to my kayak.
“Hey—” Mel splashed after me. She grabbed my sleeve again and I looked at her. She started to say something but stopped and instead we just stared at each other for a long moment.
“What the hell?” I said softly. “What the hell would I do if something happened to you?” I gently pulled out of her grasp and returned to my kayak. I put it into the water and slid into the cockpit. I stretched my spray skirt into place and waited for her to settle into hers. Without a word she headed downstream at a measured pace. Fifteen minutes later we loaded our kayaks into the back of my truck. In silence, I drove north on Highway 55 to where we had put in, where her car was parked. Still not speaking, she hauled her kayak out of my truck and strapped it onto the rack of her car. I helped, though we didn’t look at each other. I waited for her to get into her car and pull onto the blacktop. I watched as she drove away, a lump in my throat that seemed to sink all the way to my stomach.
###
I leaned on the wooden railing, gazing toward the river and watching night creep down the
mountainsides. Behind me laughter and talking emanated from the open doorway into the bar. I’d unloaded my kayak and hung my gear up to dry when I got back to camp. Mel’s stuff was drying as well but she wasn’t around. I felt badly about yelling at her, but on the other hand, the thought of losing her made me crazy. I sighed and debated getting a beer. I talked myself out of it, deciding instead to wallow some more in self-pity. I had to find her and talk to her eventually, but right now I felt too shitty. I’d never lost it like that at her. I need to get a grip.
A few people drifted onto the deck, chatting. They took up at nearby tables. Dusk enveloped Riggins and one of the bar employees lit the citronella torches on the deck. I watched him, thinking that maybe I’d go for a drive. I turned back to the river and leaned against the railing, bracing my elbows on it. Footsteps sounded to my right and someone joined me. I clenched my teeth then unclenched them.
“Truce?” Mel asked quietly. She held two beer bottles. The one in her left hand she offered to me.
Relief settled in my chest. I smiled and took the beer. “It’s not about that.” I rested the bottle on the top of the railing, studying the label but not really seeing it.
“I’m sorry,” she said solemnly, looking at me. “I’m really sorry. You’re right. That was stupid. I was hot-dogging and I shouldn’t have been.”
I shifted my gaze back toward the river. “I’m sorry, too.” I sighed and turned my head so I could see her. “You know the risks. You know what you’re doing. I’m sorry I sounded like your mom or something. I need to just shut the hell up sometimes.”
She put her left hand on my bare forearm and heat shot up to my shoulder. I clenched my teeth again.
“Don’t say that. I need to be reminded that it’s not always a game out there. I rely on you for that. And it was kinda gnarly in there.” She squeezed my arm gently. “I deserved it.”
I fought another urge to grab her and kiss her. Instead I exhaled slowly. “I just…fuck, Mel. It scared me. And it pushed my Rob button.”
“I know.” She sighed. “And I know that still comes up. But I also know that you’re right and yeah, I was taking unnecessary chances.” She lightly stroked my arm. I read nothing into it beyond comfort, but it felt really nice regardless. And it turned me on. I swallowed.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Probably.” I took a sip of beer, trying to ignore how her fingers felt on my arm.
“I’ll buy you dinner.” She removed her hand, much to my chagrin.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not. I just want to. C’mon. Have a burger.”
I smiled. “Fine. It’s your money.” I followed her into the bar, painfully aware at how good she looked in her shorts and also extremely glad that things were okay again between us. Maybe some day I’d be over this crush. Maybe some day we’d laugh about it. And maybe some day the moon would fall right into the Payette and carve another damn canyon. Oh, well. I sat down at the table she was sharing with Mary, Jim, and Jenny and decided that regardless, at least she was in my life in some capacity. I’d have to find a way to be satisfied with that. I ordered my burger.
As I finished, Jim ordered buffalo wings so I had another beer. We’d all been talking about the differences between river and sea kayaking but once again, the conversation degenerated into another game of Truth or Dare.
“Too bad Brad’s not here,” Mary said. “He wanted to give Dez some shit.” She brushed a strand of her reddish hair out of her face.
“That’s right,” Jim agreed. “Well, it’s my turn and I’ll take up the banner. All right, Dez. Whatcha want?”
“Truth.”
“Wuss!” Jenny hooted.
“Damn right,” I said. “I’m tired. Who knows what I’d agree to do if you dared me?”
Jim studied me over the lip of his bottle. “Too bad. I can think of a lot of things…oh, well. Let’s see. Truth…ah, got it. If you could do Mel, would you?”
I nearly choked on my beer.
“Well, duh,” Mary broke in.
Jenny started giggling.
“What?” I finally managed. “A lezzie like me can’t have another woman as a good friend without rumors flying around camp?” I kept my tone light.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Nobody ever said that.” She grinned. “I mean, come on, ladies. I heard you’ve been river buddies for five summers. When are you going to take this to the next level? Travis and Jenny did.”
I shrugged, beyond embarrassed, and took a sip of beer. With any luck the floor would open and swallow me. I studiously avoided looking at Mel though I knew she was watching me.
“So…would you?” Jim prodded.
I tried to laugh it off. “Well, shit. Look at her. She’s hot. I mean, if I got really drunk one night and accidentally wandered into her tent…sure. But she’d immediately see it was me and she’d say ‘Dez! What the fuck are you doing? Go to bed, you freak!’”
That brought a round of laughs and the game progressed another couple of rounds until it was Mel’s turn. “Dez,” she chose. “Truth or dare?” She put extra emphasis on the word. A teasing challenge. I took her up on it, still trying to defuse Jim’s earlier question.
“Hmmm. All right, I’ll bite,” I said lightly. “Dare. Even though I’m tired.”
She grinned and paused for effect. “Kiss me,” she said. “Like you mean it.”
I lost the ability to breathe properly. Everybody at the table stared first at Mel then at me.
“Fuckin’-A,” Jim muttered. “That’s a guy’s wet dream.”
Oh, my God.
“C’mon, Dez,” Mel pushed, teasing. “You picked ‘dare.’”
“Hell, no,” I managed to stammer. “No way. You’re taking Jim’s shit way too seriously.”
“Are you insane?” Jim stared at me like I’d grown fins. “Here’s your chance. When are you gonna get another one?”
“Truth or dare,” Mary cajoled. “You picked your fate.” She smiled smugly.
I cleared my throat nervously and looked at Mel, seated to my right, who was watching this exchange with interest and…I wasn’t sure. “Pick something else,” I pleaded. “Mel…”
She shook her head emphatically. “Nope. That’s my dare. Kiss me like you mean it.” She smiled mischievously and folded her arms over her chest.
“Um…” I looked around helplessly. “That’s like…too weird,” I finally said. “I mean, for real. Do we all make out with our friends? I think not.”
“Dare,” Jim repeated. He started chanting the word softly. Mary joined him, as did Jenny.
I quickly leaned toward Mel and pecked her on the left cheek, trying to shut them all up. “There. Happy?”
“Please,” Jenny retorted. “Like you mean it, she said.”
“And you did say you’d do her,” Mary added, grinning.
“If I was drunk,” I retorted lamely.
“What’s wrong?” Mel asked, leaning closer, eyes seeming to spark. “Chicken?”
“Whatever,” I snapped.
“What, then?” She leaned even closer. The rest of the table started chanting “dare” again.
More than anything, I wanted to kiss her. But not like this. Not as a showcase. “If I’m going to kiss you,” I said to Mel, “it will mean something.”
She watched me and I thought maybe I saw secrets in her eyes just waiting for me to undress them. “Kiss me, Dez,” she implored softly. The rest of the table fell silent, waiting.
I looked at her and my blood pounded through my veins, like whitewater slamming through a narrows. I wavered. But we were in a bar…all these people…Well, why not? Jim was right. I’d never get another chance like this. Besides, it was just a game. Right?
I set my bottle on the table and reached up with my right hand. I cupped the left side of her face. She started, surprised, then leaned into my palm. I studied her eyes. My only chance. Better make it memorable. I brought my lips close to hers and felt her breathing speed up, hot against my mouth. Her eyes were half-closed. I slid my right hand along her jaw until it rested at the back of her neck and I pulled her gently toward me, closing the slight gap between us, bringing her lips against mine.
Oh, God…her mouth felt like velvet. Warm, moist velvet. I explored her lips with mine, then with the tip of my tongue and before I talked myself out of it, I slipped my tongue between her teeth and to my amazement, she reciprocated. I thought I heard her make a little noise as she ran her hands up my thighs and held on. I covered her right hand with my left, trapping it there against my bare skin, maintaining my hold on the back of her neck with my other hand. I allowed my fingers to drift into her hair. Holy hell…fireworks blasted through my skull and between my legs.
I slowly pulled away, releasing my holds on her neck and hand. Her breath came in shallow gasps.
“Damn,” Jim hooted. “That’ll keep a guy warm at night!”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Mary breathed, eyes wide.
I sat back and picked up my beer bottle, trying to act nonchalant though the pounding of my heart reverberated in every corner of my body. “There. Satisfied?” I took a sip.
“Can I have a turn?” Mary asked, half-joking. “Shit. If that’s how you kiss your friends, what do your girlfriends get?”
“Sorry. I don’t kiss and tell,” I grinned.
“I wish Travis was here,” Jenny said, awe in her voice. “He could learn a few things.”
“Well?” Jim looked at Mel.
She shook her head, looking a little dazed. “Damn. I’m definitely asking for that dare again.” She picked up a cocktail napkin and pretended to dab at her forehead with it.
“All right, whose turn is it?” I asked, trying to move us along though I wanted to run out back, jump off the deck, and fling myself into the river to cool the ache in my soul.
“No one can top that,” Mary said. “Game over.” She raised her bottle in a toast. “Seriously, Dez. If you ever feel the need for some more practice, just stop by my tent.” She grinned and stood. “Anybody want to walk back with me?”
“I will,” Jim said. The rest of us nodded and stood as well.
Good. We were going in a group and I wouldn’t have to deal yet with what happened. We paid our final tab, left a huge tip, and headed out. I purposely walked on the end of the group opposite Mel. I laughed and chatted with her, acting like it was no big deal, like I kissed women like that all the damn time. As we reached the LSRC building and turned down the final stretch for the camp, I relaxed. Mel seemed fine. Breathing a little easier, I headed for my tent, saying my good nights.
“My tent’s always open, Dez,” Mary called after me.
My face flamed and I was grateful for the darkness. I retrieved my toilet kit and towel from my tent and headed to the bathroom. I didn’t know where Mel went and I decided I was glad. This day had been totally nutso and I really needed some alone time to figure out how I was feeling.
I finally settled onto my sleeping bag, mind churning. Please don’t let her freak out. I really hoped she’d just blow it off as a dare and we’d continue with our friendship. For my part, thinking about kissing her was the turn-on of the century. If nothing else, I had that. I fell asleep, my lips still burning.
###
“Hey,” Jim said in greeting, watching as I hung up a batch of neoprene suits that I’d hosed off inside and out.
“Yeah?” I looked over at him after I put the last one away.
“How are things with you and Mel?”
Geez, just get to the point. “Um…” I stalled.
He leaned against the door jamb of the storage shed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did that whole Truth or Dare thing fuck stuff up between you?”
“Why?” I started putting booties back on the shelves according to size.
“You guys haven’t worked a shift together in a week and I just wondered if that was by design or…”
“Not mine. Sometimes we work the same shifts, sometimes we don’t. Brad schedules us the way he thinks works best. We’re working together tomorrow, actually.” I put another pair of booties up.
“So are you still hanging out like usual? I mean, I’ve seen you together maybe three times since that night.”
“Yeah…” My voice trailed off and I put two more pairs of booties up. I turned to look at him. Maybe talking about it would make me feel better. “But it’s weird.”
“Good weird or bad weird?”
I half-laughed. “I don’t know. She hasn’t mentioned it. And we still goof off and…” I ran a hand through my hair. “It’s like nothing’s changed but I keep feeling something has and neither of us wants to really talk about it.”
Jim moved aside as Travis came in carrying an armload of suits he’d finished hosing off. “Okay to just drop ’em here?” Travis indicated with his foot.
“Sure,” I answered. He did so and brushed past Jim, bumping him playfully as he went outside. I took the top one off the pile and put it on a hanger.
Jim sighed. “I feel bad. I shouldn’t have asked you that question, maybe.”
I looked at him, surprised. “Damn, dude. That’s a total girl thing to say,” I teased.
He shrugged, a wan smile on his lips.
“Whatever,” I muttered. “Maybe it’s good to just have it out in the open.” I hung the suit up and reached for another one.
“So you do have feelings for her?”
I avoided his gaze and put the suit on a rack.
“Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool.” He pushed off the jamb and started to leave.
“Yeah,” I said suddenly, making him stop. He came inside and took up a position nearby, leaning against a wall. “Yeah,” I continued. “I do have feelings for her. More than just ‘like.’” I made quote marks in the air with my fingers. “More than just summer guide buddy.”
Jim smiled then. One of his front teeth was chipped, giving him an endearing boxer-esque look. “So tell her.”
“It’s complicated.” I picked up another suit.
“What? All she can do is say yes or no.”
I looked at him and shook my head in a “you poor thing” motion. “Mel and I are tight.”
His expression said “And…?” though he didn’t verbalize it.
“C’mon, Jim. Haven’t you ever been friends with a girl and you got to be really close and then one day you realized you wanted to be more than just friends? And you tell her and she freaks and then you lose the friendship, too?” I jammed a hanger into the suit crooked and the hanger’s end made a funny little tent in the neoprene. I adjusted it.
“Okay, good point. But what if she likes you that way back and she’s wondering why you don’t say anything? So you don’t and she waits and waits and then…moves on?”
I stopped messing with the suit and stared blankly at the gravel floor. That would suck ass. I hung the suit up. “This is all ‘what ifs.’ I mean, maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe she figured out how I feel and it freaked her out and…” I turned to look at him. “And she’s distancing herself, to save my feelings.” That thought hurt.
“I doubt it.” He raised a shoulder in a shrug.
I picked up the last suit. “So what makes you the big expert?” I said, not unkindly.
“You fuckin’ floored her with that kiss. I’m a guy, yeah, but even I can tell when a woman feels something. And she was totally feeling something.” He nodded once, emphatically.
I laughed, a little nervously, and hung the suit up. “Whatever. You’d feel something, too, if some woman suddenly planted one on you.”
He rolled his eyes. “That goes without saying.” He pushed off from the wall. “But this is different. She felt something more than just a turn-on.”
“Well, shit, Dr. Love.” I turned to go then faced him again. “So are people talking about it?” I hoped not, but in this crowd, I might as well hope the rivers stopped running.
He grinned. “Christ, Dez. Of course everybody’s talking about it. Mary practically had an orgasm describing it to Brad and you know how his tent is gossip central.”
“Great,” I sighed. “Just fuckin’ great. No wonder Mel won’t say anything. She’s totally mortified.”
Jim walked over to me and squeezed my shoulder. “I seriously doubt that. Jenny thinks Mel’s trying to figure out how you really feel about her.”
“Oh, and I suppose there’s an office pool, too.”
He sucked air between his teeth. “My money’s on Mary.”
“Excuse me?” I stared at him. Mary?
“I give her another week, tops, before she shows up at your tent. She’s been so hot for you since that night she’s probably melted all her underwear.”
“Eeeew! God, Jim. Do you mind?” I smacked him on the arm. “She’s straight!”
He laughed. “Doesn’t matter. She’s all into trying new things. But to avoid that, you’d better start sleeping in Mel’s tent…”
I smacked him again, but I was laughing, too.
“You want to grab a burger?” he asked as I headed out the door.
I turned. “Nah. Not tonight. I finally have an evening to chill. Thanks, though. And thanks for the talk.”
“No problem.” He followed me outside. “Good luck,” he said, smiling as he went left.
I waved and padlocked the shed then took the keys back into the main building. I gave them to Steve and left, headed down the road to the river. My Tevas crunched on the gravel and little puffs of dirt flew up from my footsteps. I thought about what he said, about how Mel might be waiting until she got tired of that and hooked up with someone else. That would so suck. I neared the guide parking lot. I heard voices and laughing from the various campsites. I studiously avoided looking toward Mel’s. I knew she’d had the afternoon off and that she’d gone boating on the Little Salmon. I didn’t know who she’d gone with and I didn’t really want to know.
I approached my campsite, hands in the front pockets of my guide shorts. So if Mel felt something, then why hadn’t she told me? Because she has a crush, you dork. On someone else. For all I knew, whoever the crush person was, Mel might have already started something with her. I doubted it was a guy. Which narrowed the field here considerably. So Mel started up with her crush girl and then dared me to kiss her for the hell of it and she liked it but it was too fuckin’ weird, to be making out with your buddy like that. So she’s been backing off. Damn. Should’ve asked Jim who Mel might be seeing. Or maybe I should just ask her.
I chewed my lip. I didn’t want to know and I really hoped I was long gone from here, headed back to Portland, before she made her crush public. On the other hand, maybe on the last day I’d do what Jim suggested and tell her that I couldn’t stop thinking about her and that I wanted to be more than her friend. I rolled my eyes. No way. But the thought stuck.
I arrived at camp and fired up my Coleman cookstove for spaghetti. Just as I was heating the sauce for the pasta, Mel appeared, wearing her customary nylon shorts and sleeveless tee. She looked like she’d just showered.
“Hey,” she said in greeting, sounding glad to see me.
“Hey yourself. You had dinner yet?” I gestured at the pot of linguine that sat on the burner I’d just turned off.
“No…is that an invite?” She grinned and I melted, in spite of my resolve to remain the pleasant river buddy.
“Yep.”
“Excellent. I have some bread…be right back.”
I watched her as she unzipped her living room and opened one of her coolers. She removed a loaf of French bread.
“Damn,” I said when she came back. “That’s some fancy bread you’ve got there.”
“I told you. I’m the Martha freakin’ Stewart of River Rat Junction.”
I smiled and finished piling pasta on her plate and poured sauce over it. Mel liked my sauce so I gave her extra. I handed the plate to her and she took it into my screenhouse, where she set it on a blue cooler. She dug into the red cooler and pulled out a bottle of water. “What do you want to drink?” she asked.
“Water.”
She pulled another bottle out of the ice and water and wiped it on her shorts. She set it on top of the blue cooler next to hers as I unzipped the living room and entered. I zipped it back up. She tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to me as I sat down across from her.
She took a bite and chewed. “Yum. I love this sauce.” She closed her eyes, savoring.
I quickly lowered my own eyes to my plate, concentrating on my food.
We chatted about a variety of things until we had finished and then she helped me clean up. By that time, full darkness enveloped the Junction and I lit my citronella torches. “You want a beer? Wine cooler? Anything?” I asked as we went back into the living room, maintaining my river buddy persona. Maybe things were fine between us and I was just imagining weirdness.
“Iced tea,” she flipped open the red cooler and pulled a bottle out. “You want one?”
“Sure.”
She wiped both on her shorts and handed me one then plopped into a chair. I took the other and we sat like that for a bit.
“Busy,” she said simply. “When do we get a day off together so we can go yakking again?”
I glanced over at her. “My next one’s Tuesday. You?”
She sat back, thinking. “That just might work. I’ll check.” She took a drink, smiling.
We lapsed into silence again.
“Can I ask you something?” She said suddenly.
I paused mid-swallow. Shit. Here it comes. I lowered the bottle of tea. “Of course.” I kept my tone friendly though I had a sick feeling in my stomach.
She hesitated, like she was trying to find the right words. “Have you…ever had a crush on someone and you decided to find out how the other person felt about you but you didn’t want to be direct about it?”
Oh, shit. I get to talk about the mysterious third party. “Yep.” I kept my tone neutral.
“Yep what?”
“Yep, I’ve had a crush on someone and I wasn’t sure how the other person felt.”
“Did you try to follow up?” She watched me.
“Yeah.” But not with you.
“What happened?”
“It was Tracy. Remember? I knew her for a year before I tried anything. And she wasn’t into it.” I shrugged. “I told you I thought I mis-read some of her signals. And it was kind of a bummer because she didn’t want to be friends afterward. I guess it freaked her out.”
“And I told you that maybe she really did like you and didn’t know what to do with it,” Mel said quietly before she took a drink of tea.
“Don’t know. Maybe.” I shifted my weight, uncomfortable all over, and stretched my legs out. The silence hung between us like a wet blanket. “What’s up?” I finally asked, preparing myself for the worst. Spill it, girl. Finish the crushing part.
“I’m not sure.” She leaned back and studied her bottle of tea, which she held in her lap.
This was so not Mel. I’d have to fish. Damn. “Okay…so you like—you’re attracted to someone and you don’t know for sure how they feel about you.”
“That sums it up.”
How bad does this suck? I imagined I saw my heart fall right out of my chest and bounce into the dust of the campsite. “So…have you told this person how you feel?” I cannot believe I’m doing this.
“Not really. I mean, not in so many words.” She continued staring at her bottle.
“How come?”
“I don’t think it’s reciprocated. Not like I want.” She sounded really bummed.
Christ. She’s really into whoever it is. And because I care about her and want her to be happy, I’m going to suck it up and help her get there, though I’d much rather run a mile of Class V naked with no paddle. Fuck. “Okay, so…you want me to…I don’t know. Ask this person how they feel about you? I can be subtle.” Would somebody please beat me with a playboat?
She didn’t respond right away and I turned to look at her. The expression on her face said, as clear as if she’d written it down and shown me, “are you completely out of your mind?” But there was also something else underneath. Relief? Amusement?
“For real. Whatever you want, I’ll do my best to hook you up.” I ignored the sinking, wrenching feeling in my gut.
“That’s a sweet offer, but no thanks,” she giggled and relaxed. “Okay, I have another question.”
“Great,” I said with a dramatic sigh, hoping my tone didn’t betray my inner misery. “Keep the deep thoughts coming.”
She ignored the jibe. “Why did you kiss me?”
My lungs stopped working and the roaring in my ears wasn’t the river.
“I mean, I know I dared you to,” she hastily added. “But seriously, you didn’t have to.”
“Why did you ask?” I challenged her.
She turned to look at me and even in the dim light from the torches, I could see the expression in her eyes. “I wanted you to,” she said bluntly, with a “duh” inflection.
My lungs contracted. I tried to keep my voice steady. “Well, there you go. Same here.” I shifted my gaze to one of the torch flames, willing myself to stay calm. She wanted me to?
“So it wasn’t about the game?”
I exhaled slowly before I responded. Why is she asking me this? “Mel, I told you then that if I was going to kiss you, I would mean it.”
“And did you?”
I ran a hand through my hair. If I told her the truth, it might fuck everything up. If I didn’t, it might do the exact same thing. Hell. I opted for truth. Might as well. No going back now. “Yes. I did. I wanted to kiss you. A lot. Okay? And I’m sorry if that weirds you out. Can we please just move on and still be friends?” I said the last words in a rush and sat up in my chair, my right leg bouncing nervously.
She reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Thanks.” She stood. “And no, I’m not weirded out and yes, I’m still your friend.” She put her empty bottle in the recyclables bag. “How about we talk about this later?” She stood regarding me, an expression on her face that I didn’t recognize.
Why? What’s there to talk about? “If you want. Sure.” I stood as well.
“See you in the morning. Thanks for dinner.” She smiled at me and unzipped the mosquito netting. I followed her outside and zipped it up. I watched her walk to her tent, crouch, and go inside.
What the hell just happened? Confused, I put the torches out and took my toiletry kit, towel, and flashlight to the bathroom for a shower and bedtime preparation. I finished and returned to my tent, hanging my towel on my clothesline. I unzipped my tent and slipped inside, still trying to figure out the conversation with Mel. We’d been speaking English, right? So how come I had no clue what she was getting at? I thought about what might be underneath her meaning. Sometimes Mel frustrated the hell out of me. I slipped out of my shorts and tee and put on a pair of boxers and tank-top. I stretched out on top of my sleeping bag and turned my flashlight out. Lying in the dark, I listened to the river on its endless journey, muttering its secrets to the night.
Mel said she wasn’t weirded out and that she’d still be my friend. And it did feel good to have the kiss out in the open. Plus, she said she wanted me to kiss her. But then there was the matter of her crush. I sighed in the dark. Mel was really into whoever it was, much to my vast disappointment. But if the other person wasn’t into her…maybe I had a shot…? I let myself visit the land of hope for a bit. I rolled over, frustrated. She would have told me. Mel was fairly direct, always had been. Dammit. I stared at the wall of my tent, confused. The sound of the river finally helped me relax and I shut my eyes, letting myself drift toward sleep. I was nearly there when a noise at my tent entrance ripped me right out.
I froze, listening. Coyote? Racoon? Maybe one of the town dogs…had I sealed up the trash? I reached with my left hand for my flashlight.
“Dez…” came a soft voice.
Mel. “Jesus Christ,” I whispered, trying to get my heart to stop pounding. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” she whispered back.
I heard her unzip my tent and I sat up, watching as she came in. She hunkered on the floor and zipped the entrance back up. I heard another couple of noises and I guessed they were her shoes as she took them off and dropped them onto the carpet.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” I asked. What the fuck is she doing?
“I’m fine,” she said softly as she moved closer. I could just make out her face in the dark.
“What—”
“Shhh…”
I felt her fingers on my lips and my heart started pounding again, but not from fear. She pushed me back onto my sleeping bag and I let her. This can’t be happening…I’m dreaming…
She braced herself on her knees and hands above me, one hand on either side of my head. I felt one of her knees between my thighs and I didn’t care if this was a dream. I’d ride it like a line through a stretch of Class IV rapids.
She lowered herself against me and I automatically wrapped my arms around her. When her bare legs touched mine I inhaled sharply. Her breasts pressed against me and I thought my head might explode but before I could adjust to how amazing she felt, her mouth moved lightly over mine and she stroked the side of my face with the fingertips of one of her hands. Her lips brushed my chin then my cheek and tracked along my jaw to my neck, where she nuzzled the hollow of my throat. I groaned softly, throbbing in every possible part of my body. I moved my hands down her back, over the fabric of her t-shirt. She sighed and wrapped her fingers in my hair as she nipped at my neck.
“Mel—” I started. What are we doing?
Her lips grazed mine, interrupting my half-formed thought. Her mouth lingered and I kissed her, my hands at her hips, holding her firmly against me. My boxers were already damp. She moved against me and kissed me harder, pushing her tongue between my lips. I sucked on it, pulling a moan from her throat and another surge of moisture from my core.
I worked my hands under her shirt. Her skin was warm and soft beneath my palms. I followed the lines of muscle that defined her shoulders and back, strengthened from years of paddling, and let the fingertips of my left hand rest at the waistband of her shorts. She kept kissing me, hard, then soft and deep, then delicately, like she was sipping me. I buried the fingers of my right hand in her hair, what I’d been wanting to do since I arrived, and pulled my lips away from hers. She made a tiny noise of protest that stretched into a languid sigh as I kissed her throat and drew long, slow lines with my tongue. She smelled faintly of citrus and a hint of coconut and she tasted crisp, like a mountain morning.
I nuzzled the place where her neck met her shoulder, then worked my way back up and gently sucked her earlobe between my teeth. She exhaled, a quick, short burst, and began thrusting slowly against me. My boxers were no longer damp. They were soaked. She pulled gently out of my grasp and straddled my hips. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I watched as she pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside.
Oh, my God. I sat up, Mel on my lap, and kissed the space between her breasts. How is this happening? She pulled me close, hands in my hair, and I took one of her nipples between my lips, teasing it with my tongue and every nerve I had burst into flame.
She gasped and her fingers clenched in my hair. I sucked first one then the other and as her fingertips dug into my back, I groaned, on the verge of coming.
“Take your shirt off,” she said in a low, urgent voice near my ear. Her hands tugged at my tank and I let her finish the job. She tossed my shirt across the tent and ran her hands over my shoulders down my arms. Chills shot through my veins and erupted into goosebumps. I shivered and leaned my forehead against her chest as she explored my upper back and neck with her fingers.
“You make me so hot,” she said against my hair. She cupped one of my breasts and gently massaged my nipple with the tip of her thumb. I nearly shot out of my skin and without really thinking about the ramifications of what was happening here, I extricated myself from our position and used my weight to push her back onto my sleeping bag. I balanced above her and tried taking my boxers off with one hand. It proved frustrating but Mel helped and I finished kicking them off then turned my attention to her shorts. And at that instant, logic intruded. I hesitated, my fingers curled around her waistband.
She must have sensed my uncertainty. She covered my hands with hers. “What?” she asked, concern in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
I released her shorts and pulled my hands out from under hers. “Mel, I can’t.” I sat up, a different kind of ache in my chest than the one at my core.
“Why not?”
Shit.
“What’s wrong?” She pressed. She took my hand again and interlaced our fingers.
“I…” This is so not fair.
“Dez?” She stroked the back of my hand with her thumb.
“Ah, fuck,” I sighed. “Don’t think I don’t want to,” I said. “Don’t for a minute think that. There’s nothing I would rather do than be with you right now.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Her voice sounded distant, worried.
I pulled my hand away from hers. “I can’t do this one time. I can’t wake up tomorrow and pretend this never happened and go back to just being your river buddy. I can’t do that, Mel.” I sighed again. “Because I want more than you’re willing to give.” I climbed off her and sat cross-legged at the bottom of my sleeping bag. “And I don’t want to be a substitute for whoever your crush is,” I added as an afterthought, bracing my elbows on my thighs. I held my head in my hands. God, this sucks.
She didn’t say anything for a moment and then my sleeping bag rustled as she moved closer. I felt her fingers on my hand, tentative. She was trying to pull my hand away from my head. I let her.
“So…this isn’t direct enough?” she asked. I heard a smile in her voice.
“What are you talking about?” I lowered my other hand and faced her. Even in the darkness, I could pick out her facial features.
She took my hand. “Jesus, Dez, I know you can’t tell, sometimes, when a woman wants you, but…I mean, I’m sitting here half-naked with you,” she laughed softly.
I opened my mouth to say something but she cut me off.
“It’s you.” She stroked my fingers with her thumb. “You’re the crush.”
My chest contracted. Had I heard her right?
“It’s been you all along. But it’s not really a crush anymore.” She ran her fingers through my hair then caressed my face. “It’s way more than that.”
I stared, trying to pick out her expressions in the dark. My heart felt like it was swelling in my chest. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I was afraid to. For all I knew, you didn’t feel that way about me. And I didn’t want to lose you as a friend if you weren’t into it.”
“So daring me to kiss you was…what?” I shifted slightly, trying to get closer to her.
“My dumb-ass attempt to see what would happen,” she said with a soft laugh. “I thought it was a good way to do it because it was a game and I figured nobody would take it seriously. Besides, I’d at least get to kiss you.” She positioned herself cross-legged in front of me, hands on my thighs, like they’d been the night I kissed her the first time. And the way her hands moved on my skin made me wet all over again.
“What if I hadn’t?” I covered her hands with mine.
She shrugged. “I knew you would,” she said impishly. “It was a dare and you wouldn’t want to let the audience down. Or me.” She giggled and squeezed my thighs.
“Damn,” I laughed. “You’re right.” I exhaled, relief and happiness coursing through my veins. “I didn’t want to, at first, because I really wanted it to mean something. And then I realized that it might be the only chance I got to do it, so it did mean something after all.”
I lifted my hands and Mel ran hers farther up my thighs. My heart rate soared to Class V whitewater speed.
“I’ve never been kissed like that,” she said. “I tried to act like it was no big deal but…” she paused. “I was actually glad we didn’t see each other much afterward because I didn’t know what to do with how I was feeling.”
Jenny was right, I thought. I clenched my teeth as Mel moved her hands just a bit closer to my heat before she slowly pulled her fingers back down my thighs. I exhaled again, sounding a little shaky. “And now?” I managed.
She leaned in and kissed me, her lips soft and gentle against mine. She stopped after a long, delicious moment. “I want you all over me,” she murmured against my mouth. “Are you okay with that?”
“God, yes,” I whispered as I pushed her onto her back. She helped me take her shorts off and I stared down at her, awestruck. I’d seen her naked before. Hell, we changed clothes around each other quite a bit. But I’d not seen her through the eyes of a lover and she tore the breath from my body. “Mel…” I ran my fingertips down her abdomen, felt her shudder beneath my touch. “You’re beyond beautiful.” I straddled her left thigh and she pulled me down against her.
“And you’re about as wet as the Payette,” she giggled, hands wandering down my back to my ass.
“True. I hope you want to do something about it.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she took my lower lip between her teeth and sucked slowly while she moved her leg so it rubbed against my clit. I groaned and felt her smile against my mouth before she peppered my neck with light kisses, leaving little sparks in their wake.
“I am so turned on right now,” she breathed against my shoulder. “I can’t believe how you feel.” She wrapped her fingers in my hair and began thrusting against me and everything I felt gathered in the dreams between us. I ached to fill her, to taste her on my skin, to breathe her in and tie her smile to my bones.
I traced lines with my fingers all over her chest and stomach, marveling at how her skin reacted to my touch and how her sweat tasted like sunlight. I drew circles around her nipples with my tongue and felt them harden against my lips. I heard her moan low in her throat as my mouth lingered at her hips only to plunge to her thighs. I smelled the earthy, musky odor of her arousal and desire flooded my senses.
I shifted then and the fingertips of my right hand traveled the border where her pubic hair met bare skin. I wanted to savor this moment forever and keep it suspended in my heart, next to every memory I’d shared with her.
She took my hand and guided me lower. “I need you,” she whispered.
My fingers slid through her heat and moisture and my heart hammered my ribs and skipped several beats even as I easily found her entrance and hovered there, breathing like I’d just run a mile-long stretch with a broken paddle.
“Inside,” she said with an urgency I’d never heard in her voice. “I want to feel you inside me.” She spread her legs as I slid two fingers in and she arched, welcoming me with a thrust and groan. Her left hand dug into the small of my back and her right clung to my left shoulder. “Dez,” she gasped. “I’ve wanted you with me, like this…for so long…” she pulled me as close as she could and stared into my eyes.
I smiled. “Ditto,” I hissed between clenched teeth. I lowered my head and tweaked one of her nipples with my tongue before sucking it, the rhythm of my mouth matching that of my fingers.
Her breathing came low and ragged and she held my head firmly against her breast, both her hands in my hair. She thrust harder against my fingers and I positioned the top of my thumb against her clit. I sensed when she was almost ready and I stopped moving as she started to crest, keeping her there for a few seconds. She groaned low in her throat and I plunged my fingers deeper, feeling her contract around them as she released and fell back onto my sleeping bag. She whispered my name and I kissed her forehead as she relaxed against me and we stayed like that, lying on our sides for a while until I carefully withdrew and gathered her in my arms. She sighed and snuggled into my embrace. I felt almost drunk.
“I really hope this isn’t a dream.” She stroked my face. “Because that would suck if I woke up in my own tent tomorrow, alone and dressed.”
I chuckled. “That would suck.” I brushed a kiss across her lips. Her hands slid down my back and I watched her eyes, still not completely believing that I was lying here naked with her. She tensed then and rolled out from under me, pushing me at the same time so that I ended up on my back. She kept her eyes on mine and I felt her fingers brush the insides of my thighs.
“Is this okay?” She seemed to be studying my face.
I smiled and spread my legs. She kissed me the same time she entered me and I strained against her hand, powerless in the waves of sensation her fingers evoked. All I could do was moan incoherently, my breath stuck in my throat.
“Mmm…” Mel nibbled on my neck. “If you taste this good here…it’s got to be better elsewhere…” she shifted and moved off me, still working me with her fingers.
“Oh, God,” I gasped as she blew on my clit.
She teased me with the tip of her tongue, then increased her speed, licking and sucking even as she continued thrusting. She took my clit between her lips and I clamped my mouth shut to keep from screaming and waking up the camp and possibly the entire town. I stopped breathing and all sound faded as I came so hard I swear I nearly lost consciousness. I collapsed, my hands tangled in Mel’s hair. She stayed inside me for a few minutes, her head on my stomach. I stroked the back of her neck and her shoulders, deliciously lost in the connection between us.
She gently withdrew and stretched out next to me, left leg over mine, head on my shoulder. Her hand rested on my abdomen. “Okay?” she asked after a while. I thought I heard an undercurrent of worry in her tone.
“More than okay,” I assured her, hugging her again. “You?”
“Definitely. And totally blown away,” she added.
“That makes two of us.” I kissed the top of her head.
“I mean, I’ve always thought you were cute,” she continued. “The first time I met you—I thought you might not be into guys, which was cool for me because then I’d have something to talk about with you.” She giggled. “Then as I got to know you, I realized you’re pretty fuckin’ sexy and I started wondering what it would be like to…” she laughed, shy, and cleared her throat. “Um…I wondered what it would be like to be more than your friend.”
“Ditto.” I caressed her hip. “It’s been on my mind for a while…”
“Like since last summer, when you spooned me the last night we camped?” she asked with a smile in her voice.
“You knew? I thought you were asleep…” Oh, my God.
“I pretended I was,” she giggled. “You were against me for a long time before you put your arm around me. I was hoping you would.”
“Geez,” I muttered. “And here I was thinking I’d done something totally stupid.”
“I rolled over and I thought maybe you’d stay with your arm around me and then I’d…” She ran her fingers down my chest. “Act on how I was feeling,” she finished.
“I freaked out a little that night,” I admitted. “I mean, you’d never acted toward me like anything but a friend and I felt kind of guilty for thinking about you in terms other than that. Even though I’ve had thoughts like that every summer since we met, I kept hoping it was just a passing thing. I figured you wouldn’t be into it and I didn’t want to risk bringing it up.” I pulled her closer, wondering why the hell I’d kept fighting my feelings this long.
“So you basically wouldn’t have said anything?” She asked, sounding a bit surprised and maybe disappointed.
“No. Wait…yes. I was working up to it. I was going to wait until the last day here and tell you and then drive away really fast and if you followed me, then I’d know you were into it. If not, then I’d…well, I’d be really bummed.”
“That is so melodramatic,” she whispered. She adjusted her position and kissed me. “And so not like you.”
“Shit, Mel.” I kissed her again before finishing my thought. “I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t have any point of reference for this. I’ve never fallen for a buddy before.” I felt her smile against my lips.
“Me, either. But I really, really like it.” She started moving against me in a way that made my heart speed up again. “We’re not on first thing tomorrow…” she coaxed.
Every part of my body responded and I ran my hands down her back. “You know they’ll all know what happened when you leave my tent in the morning.”
“Mmm hmm,” she breathed as she nibbled on my ear, sending chills up and down my spine. “Like they don’t already think that.” She sucked on my earlobe then released it. “C’mon sailor,” she whispered. “Let’s give ’em something to talk about…”
###
I sighed and pushed my textbook away. Tired of studying, I stood and walked over to the front window. I frowned at the grey December sky. Grey evening. Grey everything. Winter in Portland kind of depressed me. But my last final was tomorrow and then I’d finish packing up and drive to San Diego to meet up with Mel. I smiled. Sea kayaking and beach camping with my girlfriend. Now that was a Christmas break. One more semester of coursework and then we’d figure out where we wanted to base while I worked on my thesis and she developed a business plan. Somewhere near a river, we both agreed.
I wandered into my tiny kitchen and made a pot of decaf. I needed to go through my notes again and then I’d call Mel. I poured a cup and added half-and-half. I stirred it and rinsed the spoon off before setting it on the counter next to the pot. I returned to the table in the front room of my rented bungalow and sat down, casting a critical eye over the papers strewn across its surface. I knew this stuff inside and out. Still…one more pass. I set my cup down and pulled my textbook in front of me. My cell phone rang. Mel’s ring. I grinned as I answered.
“Hey, hotshot. Thank you so much for interrupting my studying,” I said gratefully, leaning back in my chair.
She chuckled. “Hi, sexy river guide. Gettin’ to you, huh?”
I heard her grin through the phone and my heart raced. “And then some. What are you up to?”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“Ditto. I’ll start driving tomorrow afternoon. I should be there Friday night.”
“That’s three days too many,” she said, trying to sound petulant.
“I know,” I agreed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, babe.” She paused. “But seriously. I can’t wait.”
“I’ll keep you on speaker all the way there,” I offered, chuckling.
“I have a better idea.”
“And that would be…?”
She didn’t respond.
“Mel?” I asked in the silence. Still no response. “Hello…?” Damn. Lost the connection. I lowered my chair legs to the floor and stared at my phone. No, the connection was fine. Puzzled, I put the phone back to my ear and at that moment, I heard footsteps on my porch and a key in the lock. Oh, my God…I stared, frozen, as the door opened and Mel entered. She shut the door behind her and stood looking at me, holding her cell phone and wearing a backpack. Her rain jacket was wet.
“So I’m impatient,” she shrugged, grinning broadly.
“Impulsive,” I said, stunned, as I stood.
“Spontaneous,” she giggled. She took her backpack off and set it on the rug by the door before she started walking toward me.
“Impetuous.” I met her halfway and wrapped her in my arms, oblivious to her wet jacket.
“I missed you.”
“When—” I started.
“I bought the ticket last month. I’ve been dying to tell you.” She kissed me then pulled away. “I thought you might like the company on the drive,” she said coyly. “I know I will.”
“You are too much,” I laughed, shaking my head. I ran my fingers over her damp hair and kissed her forehead.
She hugged me, head on my shoulder and we stood there together. “Truth or dare?” she asked after a while, looking up at me, eyes sparkling.
I smiled. “Dare. Totally.”
She cupped my face in her hands. “Kiss me,” she said. “Like you mean it.”
end