Chapter 4 - Leaving the Lakeside #3
“Sure,” Grace said, pushing her mug toward Margie.
“Well, as you can imagine, once the lockdown was announced, my someday vision of an extended stay in the Northwoods took on a whole new meaning. I focused on making arrangements to leave, getting here, and finding accommodations. Everything beyond that remained vague. I have some savings, but the closer I got to Duluth on Tuesday, the more unsure I was about the whole idea. There’s still much that’s uncertain, but the conversation I had with Robby last night made me feel more hopeful, calmer, even kind of excited.
“So, what are you planning to do?”
“I want to get involved in protecting the BWCA from mining.”
Margie put down her mug. “Really? I didn’t see that coming. Why? I mean, I can see if you were from up here, but not from South Carolina.”
“It has to do with my dad and family history up here. It’s not important now.”
“Okay. Well, you know we’re Anishinaabeg, right?
From Fond du Lac?” Grace nodded. “We believe in preserving this land for future generations. All help is welcome.” Margie got up and stretched.
“Let’s see how your breakfast is coming.
” At that moment, Robby elbowed his way through the swinging door, carrying two plates of pancakes, one short with bacon, the other tall with sausage.
He put them on the counter, went back to the kitchen, and returned with cranberry juices, a dish of butter pats, and a pitcher of syrup, all of which he managed to put down safely.
“Wow. I’m impressed. And hungry,” Grace said, reaching for the butter pats.
“So my astounding musical success doesn’t impress you, but my prowess as a server does? Go figure.”
Once they had eaten, Robby stood up. “I need to go upstairs and work on something. Can I get a refill and take it up?” He looked at Margie.
“Sure thing. Just keep it away from the bed.” She reached for the pot.
“No worries there.” He laughed, looked at Grace, picked up the mug and his notebook, and left.
“I need to work on something too,” Grace said, then added, “but not upstairs. May I sit down here and use the internet?”
“Sure. Do you want your mug too?”
“Yes. I’ll get my laptop and be right back.”
*******
As Grace was going up the stairs, she heard a guitar and thought she heard Robby singing something about nails?
Whatever. When she got back down, Margie had gone off, but Grace’s mug was next to the Bunn-O-Matic, which she took to mean refills were okay.
She filled the mug and took it over to a window table.
After a while, she opened her laptop. She bought digital subscriptions to Duluth and Minneapolis newspapers, then spent the next hour exploring sources of information on mining issues that would impact the BWCA and familiarizing herself with Minnesota legislators at all levels.
She took out half a dozen other subscriptions — small newspapers, newsletters, podcasts, blogs — some paid, some free, some donations.
It was a start. She closed the computer and finished her coffee staring at the lake.
She took the mug into the empty kitchen.
It was 10:30. Considering what Mr. Olsson had said, she didn’t think Mr. Pedersen would show up for lunch before 12:30.
She had barely unpacked, so there was not much to do there.
What could she do for the next two hours?
She was thinking about options as she got to the top of the stairs.
Robby called to her from his end of the hall. “Grace, wait.” He met her before she opened her door. “I’ve finished what I was working on for now. Do you have anything else?”
“No.”
He leaned his shoulder against the wall.
“Let’s go sit by the firepit. If they try to chase us off, I’ll order a milkshake.
I don’t have much experience with this, but I realize you’re leaving, and I don’t know when I’ve spent this kind of time with anyone outside the band.
It’s weird, because you and I don’t get along that well, I’m not sure we even like each other, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to miss the company.
” He pushed off the wall. “Will you go?”
She looked up at him. “Do I get a milkshake?”
“I guess, since I asked you.”
“Okay. Let me put my laptop away. I’ll go with you.”
*******
They got shakes, one malt, one not, and took them out to the firepit. Grace let go of her straw. “You know we’re spoiling our lunch.”
“Not me. I’ll still eat chili and a piece of pie. I may leave off the grilled cheese.”
They stared at the fire and drank their shakes.
Eventually, Robby went over to the trash can and dropped his cup in.
He came back, poked at the fire with a long stick he found on the ground, sat down, and stretched his legs out toward the flames.
“I know I keep saying this, but it’s just so strange .
. . like I’ve been sucked into an alternate universe.
I hope I can find ways not to go crazy.”
“How long do you usually stay?”
“Only like a week. Just long enough to see everybody. I’ve always checked in like that . . . but any longer? I get antsy, run out of things to do, people to see . . . plus, I’ve got shows . . . a schedule to get back to.”
“Are you always on the road, living out of a suitcase?”
“Pretty much . . . my whole adult life. And when there’s a real break between dates, we take off for an island or a boat .
. . some place where the press can’t easily follow.
Or we’re in the studio, working, and rent a house, with security.
But there’s another difference this time,” he looked over at her, “unheard of for me — spending this much time with somebody who doesn’t care — even know — about the band.
Sort of like being stranded on a desert island with a stranger, one you’re not sure you like. ”
“You could have left. Gone to your house or to Fond du Lac.”
“Ahhh. Yes. So . . . why did I stay? . . . Let’s just say I didn’t have anything better to do, and the company has been . . . nice to look at . . . and, like I said last night, not boring.”
Grace exhaled. “I don’t like that.”
“What do you mean?” Robby leaned forward in his chair and looked at Grace.
“I thought you were realizing women are more than sex objects and scenery. I don’t like being referred to, basically, as ‘not boring’ scenery. It’s insulting and doesn’t say much for you either.”
“Jesus, Grace! There’s no pleasing you. I know I’ve helped you out — you said so yourself. I’m sorry you’re leaving. I’m acknowledging you’re attractive and interesting.”
Robby stood up and walked around. He came back and stood with his back to the fire, facing Grace.
“Look. We’re coming from different places, you and I, in almost every way.
I guess it’s reasonable for you to think my view of girls — women — is skewed.
You’re right about the bubble. My thoughts about girls — women — are probably not what they would be if I were in a different job, working with women, say women lawyers.
” He looked off. “Come to think of it, maybe that’s why my oldest sister, Bella, and I clash,” he said, looking back at Grace.
“She’s a lawyer. She’s never had much use for me either.
Anyway, there haven’t ever been many women in our crew.
You’ve made an impression. I get what you’re saying.
I’ll examine my thoughts more closely in the future.
They’re ingrained, though, and I’m stuck in the bubble . . .”
“Ohhh. So it’s not your fault . . . You have no power over your thoughts . . . You can’t change.”
Robby smiled. “Damn, Grace. You’re good. You and Bella have a lot in common. If you stay long enough, you’ll have to look her up. In the meantime, it looks like I’m going to have ample time to think.”
*******
When Grace and Robby entered the dining room, Mr. Pedersen was already there, sitting at a table with Margie and Charlie and coffee.
“Here they are! We thought you’d kidnapped Grace.”
“I’m not that crazy. Besides, I can’t get to first base, but she’s set on going into the woods with some man she’s never met.” There was laughter from the table.
Charlie and Mr. Pedersen stood up. “Grace, this is our good friend, Jim Pedersen. Jim, Grace Wheeler. Grace and Robby aren’t sure they’re Covid-free yet, so they’re being cautious and wearing masks to protect us.”
“I appreciate that. Our business depends on staying Covid-free.” Jim Pedersen was a wiry man, sixtyish, dressed in jeans and a faded gold, chamois shirt. He had piercing blue eyes, and Grace liked him right away. “A real pleasure to meet you, Grace. Glad you’ll be staying with us.”
“I so appreciate your helping me out, not just with the cabin, but the ride up this afternoon. Everyone here has been so kind and helpful.” She looked at Margie and Charlie.
“Well, you’ve found good people with these folks. They don’t come any finer.” He looked over Grace’s shoulder at Robby. “This must be our local celebrity. Robby? I’m pleased to finally meet you.”
Robby stepped up beside Grace. “Jim, ‘pleasure to meet you too.”
“I’ve heard about you for years, and not just from Margie and Charlie. My sons are big fans, too.”
Margie stood up and said, “You guys sit. I’ll get a fresh pot and two mugs.” She strode off, then turned around. “Unless you’re in a hurry to get back Jim. We can eat lunch now if you need to.”
“No, Margie. No hurry.”