CHAPTER 15
Riggs
This will be a Saturday to remember.
Even I’m surprised at how many snowmobiles showed up at our primitive camp.
I’ve counted forty-three so far, and someone said more are still coming.
But, like Ash pointed out, not all of them are from National Discovery.
Executives from nine companies that buy our products are here with their families.
With Rhonda by his side, Ash is entertaining the adults.
They’re all taking turns lying on the beds in the shelter.
Whenever we do these kinds of events, the beds are one of the first things they ask about, and if they get to try them, they’re always surprised at how comfortable the nets are.
We have a unique way of setting them up so they’re as tight as a trampoline, yet they still form to the shape of your body. That took years to perfect.
Ash asked Maddie and Rhonda’s friends—Glen, Randy, and Damon—to help out.
They seem pretty happy to be a part of this.
Glen and Randy are building a fire outside the shelter in front of the table and chairs Maddie and I made, while Damon is building a fire inside the shelter between the beds.
Looks like they know what they’re doing.
I’m not surprised. They’re real country boys.
As usual, Elsie thought of everything—well, almost. She worked everything out with the lodge and even got permission for the fires.
She also hired a catering company to serve hot chocolate, hot apple cider, and plenty of coffee, along with doughnuts.
They brought everything here on sled trailers pulled by snowmobiles.
The executives’ older kids came on their own snowmobiles. The younger kids rode in small, fully enclosed carriage trailers on skis that were towed by their parents’ snowmobiles. The pods hold two kids each and look like something out of Star Wars. They’re super cool.
Tons of camera and sound equipment are being set up by the network people. It seems like a lot for such a small project, but what do I know?
Elsie had a large crate of supplies delivered to the lodge.
Ash and I were trying to figure out how to get it to the camp when Maddie and Rhonda met us in the lobby.
I wasn’t sure Maddie would come, but I was secretly hoping she would.
We were running late, so we decided that Ash needed to head to the camp to greet everyone.
Rhonda went with him, which left Maddie and me behind to try to figure out how to get the huge crate to the camp.
While I was staring at it, scratching my head, Maddie was looking at the large floor-to-ceiling windows, or what was on the other side rather. “What about those rescue sleds?”
Staffers wearing bright red coats were doing some kind of training exercise, pulling empty long-handled sleds designed to transport injured skiers off the mountain.
“Good idea. I could put the crate on one of those and drag it out to the camp.”
We asked if we could use one, and they said yes.
I sweated my ass off dragging it up and over the hill, only to realize I should have borrowed someone’s snowmobile.
Why didn’t Elsie get us one? Then again, she probably did, and my dumb ass didn’t check to see if she sent instructions with the crate, something she always does.
We want to keep the kids away from the film crew, so I start to build a fire away from the camp while Maddie unpacks the crate.
I’m really surprised she’s here. I’m guessing Rhonda had something to do with it.
Or maybe she just wanted to see how National Discovery does something like this.
I can see how that would be interesting to most people.
Either way, it means I get to spend more time with her, though it also means I’ll have to say goodbye again.
I keep thinking I’ve seen her for the last time.
The whole hot tub thing wasn’t my intention.
When I came around the corner and saw her, I almost turned back, but then I thought she probably saw me, so it would look like I was avoiding her.
And I would have been, but I didn’t want it to look that way.
I considered using the empty hot tub next to hers, but that would have been awkward as hell.
I really didn’t have a choice but to join her, and besides, I could think of worse things than sharing a jacuzzi with a girl as beautiful as her.
Then, when we parted ways last night, I really thought that was the end of it. But here we are.
“They sure like those beds. I guess I can see why, they’re so interesting.”
I glance up to see she’s looking toward the camp. “Elsie said the beds are the second most popular thing people talk about in the comments below her videos.”
“Why do you call them ‘her videos’? They aren’t your videos too?”
The larger logs have caught fire and are burning well, so I stand to stretch my legs. “Technically, they are. On paper, Ash and I are equal partners with her, but it feels like she does all the work while we play.”
She pulls several hickory sticks out of the crate. They’re about three feet long and the diameter of a quarter. Ash and I have been using them for kids’ events over the past three years. I was worried they wouldn’t be in the crate. “I guess that makes sense,” she says. “What’s the first?”
I come over to give her a hand. “The first?”
“Yeah, what’s the most popular thing people talk about in the comments?”
“Oh, our clothes. I’m not sure why. Like our gear, Ash and I make all our clothes, even our socks. It’s the only way to have things that will hold up for three months in the crazy places we go.”
I pull three folding tables out of the crate. It’s like we gave Elsie a list of what we’d need, but we didn’t. We never do, yet somehow, she always gets it right.
Maddie sets cookie sheets and several bags of raw brown sugar on the table I just set up. “I’m not surprised. I noticed your clothes too, but I didn’t recognize the brand. You didn’t do a bad job. They look well made.”
The third table’s legs sink into the snow a bit, but it’s still functional. “Coming from a professional seamstress, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The fire has burned down to coals, and everything is in place on the tables, so we gather the younger kids over to us.
When they’re all seated on fire-retardant tarps around the fire pit, I take a can of biscuits, the kind in a cardboard tube, and pop it open.
I roll one biscuit between my palms until it’s a long snake, then wrap it in a loose coil around the end of a hickory stick.
Then I roll the dough back and forth on a cookie sheet filled with brown sugar and cinnamon, and hand it to a little girl who looks to be about five.
I show her how to cook it over the fire like it’s a giant marshmallow.
“This stick bread is way better than those doughnuts over there,” I tell her.
The girl’s eyes light up. “Thank you, Mr. Dwyer.”
While I have my hands full, Maddie opens two more tubes and lays the biscuits on the sheets of parchment paper. “Who wants to try it?”
Every hand goes up.
Maddie hands out biscuits and helps the kids make their own stick bread while I assist with cooking at the fire.
“Thank you, Mrs. Dwyer,” a boy, who looks about seven, says to Maddie.
“Oh, I’m not… You know what? You’re welcome.” She shoots me a desperate look with a shrug.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s easier than trying to explain.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
As we help the kids and hand out juice boxes from the crate, there are plenty of runny noses to wipe along with dirty mouths, faces, and fingers to clean with wet wipes; and lots of tiny hands to hold as we make trips to the porta-potty.
I love every minute of this and can’t help imagining what it would be like if Maddie were my wife and some of these kids were ours.
How can I not? The coolest thing is, she seems to be enjoying this as much as I am.
While the kids are cooking their stick bread, Maddie takes pictures with her phone and then sends them to someone.
“Who are you texting?”
“My mother. She’s going to love this.”
“How is she doing?”
“All right. At least she seems to be.”
“That’s good.”
She stops and looks up at me. “It is. Thank you for asking.”
When the film crew is ready for Ash and me, parents come to get their kids, but not before taking a ton of pictures of Maddie and me with them.
There are lots of “Thank-you so much” and “You’re really good with kids” and “I can’t believe Riggs Dwyer made stick bread with my kid.
” There are also plenty of not-so-subtle inquiries about Maddie.
“You two make a good team. Will you be joining the show?” a woman asks her.
“They should have a woman on their team,” another woman comments. “Besides, you two are a great couple.”
More than a few times, I have to explain that we’re just friends, as does Maddie.
* * *
By one in the afternoon, it doesn’t look like things with the film crew are winding down. If anything, it feels like we’re just getting started.
The director seems to have an endless supply of suggestions.
“That was perfect, but could you look over there while you do it?”
“That was perfect, but could you do it again and kneel this time?”
“That was perfect, but could you swing the axe thing a little slower?”
“That was perfect, but could you do it with your left hand instead of your right?”
Everything is perfect, yet we have to keep doing it different ways, and each reshoot takes forever while they discuss how to reposition the cameras. It’s mentally draining, not to mention boring as hell. The parents left with their kids an hour ago. At least they have a premier ski resort to enjoy.
* * *
It’s after three in the afternoon and I want to stick a pencil in my eye.
We both hate this. Ash told Rhonda she should head back to the lodge, and that he would find her when this was over.
She looked glad to leave. Maddie did too.
I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye because I was starting a fire with a carbon-steel striker and a piece of flint for the 22nd time, even though the previous 21 times were perfect.
* * *
It's after seven with no end in sight, so Ash and I decide to have a talk with the director.
“This isn’t going to work,” I tell him. “If we film like this in the jungle, we won’t get far.”
Ash is nodding in agreement. “Like a hundred yards, if we’re lucky.”
Alan, a slender man who looks to be in his fifties, chuckles.
“This is nothing like how it’ll work in real life.
I should have briefed you before we started.
That’s on me.” Before either of us can question him about that he doesn’t give us a chance as he continues to explain.
“Everything we’re doing here is for the studio.
We need a two-minute sample to show the big boys upstairs what they’ll be spending their money on, which doesn’t make sense since this is nothing like what they’ll be spending their money on.
And I’ll tell you something else that will really make you mad. It’s sure pissing us off.”
Ash rolls his eyes. “What?”
“Your sister sent our boss the footage of you two rescuing some endangered animal with its head stuck in a can. Looks like the studio wants to use that instead of what we’re doing here. My assistant got the call about an hour ago.”
Ash smacks his forehead. “Are you kidding? Then why are here?”
“Beats me,” Alan says. “They say jump, and I jump. They want us to finish what we started in case they decide to go with this instead, but I don’t think they’re going to.”
Ash is about to explode, so I put a hand on his shoulder and pull him back before turning to the director. “How much longer do you think this will take?”
“I expect we’ll be done before midnight.”
“Midnight? That long?”
“Yeah. That’s how it’s done. Did you not get the schedule? We sent it to Elsie. She said she’d make sure you got it.”
It’s probably at the front desk, along with a note saying she rented a snowmobile to haul the crate. I should have checked.
“She probably did,” is all I can say.
“Well, the sooner we get back to work, the sooner we’ll finish.”
He’s right about that, and we’re ready to be done. Ash and I take our places in the camp while Alan and his crew set up the next shot.
* * *
It’s 10:50 p.m. and we’re finally finished—more than an hour early, thank goodness. This has been the longest day of my life. At least they fed us.
Back in my room, I take a shower and get ready for bed. As soon as we got back to the lodge, Ash took off to find Rhonda. I kind of wish I could go find Maddie. She was great today, and I would love to spend more time with her, but I’m not a fuckboy like Ash.
That reminds me, I still need to talk to him about managing expectations with Rhonda. I promised Maddie I would. I’ll do it first thing in the morning.