Chapter 11 - Separate Lives #3
By Thursday, Bart had called the lodge and left a number where Grace could reach him.
Kirsten handed her the message in her cubicle; she still wasn’t talking to Grace.
Grace figured though Robby was gone, in Kirsten’s eyes, she was contaminated.
She called Bart. He had a pleasant voice and was easy to talk to.
They chatted. He said he’d seen her on the lake and wondered if she’d like to get out there again, Saturday.
He had no guides that day — probably wouldn’t for a while.
The weather forecast was good, but he’d keep an eye on it.
Maybe Sunday, if Saturday didn’t cooperate.
He could pick her up at the dock, around 10:00, and bring lunch.
They talked about food, and Grace said she’d be on the dock at 10:00.
On Friday, another blog post came out. The lockdown was in force, so it had a wider readership and was looking successful.
In the afternoon, she got an email from the mayor back home, thanking her for the “excellent” interview with the Dutch engineer.
He said it had helped “raise awareness for the impending disaster the city was facing if something weren’t done in a hurry about rising sea levels. ”
So Grace was more confident in her abilities, both to make a career for herself and to exist without Robby.
But one thought nagged her. She hadn’t spent time thinking about what Robby had said early on, about when she’d be able to have a career and a ‘distraction.’ They’d admitted neither of them knew how to be in a relationship where each person had goals.
Was she not even going to think about that?
Robby may be trying to figure it out, but she wasn’t?
She didn’t feel good about that, not just because it was unfair to Robby, but because it might mean she was giving up on having both with anyone.
Was she, too, going to end up at thirty-six tired and alone, with no one in her life?
But how do you know who’s the right person to put so much effort and trust into?
Risk. No guarantees. What had Robby said in the note?
She went into the closet and stuck her hand in the sock where she had put Robby’s contact info.
She had put the note in there too. She took a deep breath and pulled it out.
Grace,
I can’t do this. I can’t be around you and give you the space you need.
I’ve never been with anyone before who was focused on her own life, who had needs of her own that I was aware of.
I know how that must sound. I don’t know how to do this and rather than screw it up totally, past fixing, I’m going to leave and try to figure it out.
I have no idea what’s next for me, and I realize it’s wrong for me to expect you to risk what you’re trying so hard to do for someone who’s unsure of what or who he wants in his own life.
Robby
So she was giving up, and he might not be?
He might think she was worth the effort, but she wasn’t even going to bother thinking about it?
Margie had said a relationship is a balancing act, a give and take that’s not always equal.
That the relationship comes first, before the individuals.
That sounded hard. She had a history of overcoming hard.
And she didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life.
*******
Grace got to the dock early on Saturday, hoping she’d see Billy to ask about weatherstripping that leaky window.
There had been another storm — not as bad as the May one — but the wind had been out of the northwest again, so there’d been a puddle on the floor under the window.
But Billy wasn’t around. So she sat on the end of the dock dangling her boots over the side.
She had brought her jacket and a warm hat just in case.
Then she saw Bart — it must be — paddling in her direction.
In a few minutes he glided up to the dock. “Hi, I’m Bart.”
“Hi, I’m Grace.”
“I saw you from a long way off — the sun is shining on your hair.”
“Geez! Y’all must not get many redheads up here. I get a lot of these comments. I’m going to start sticking it all up in a hat.”
“We also don’t get many ‘y’all’s’,” he laughed, “but don’t do that, your hair is great.
Come on.” He stood up and offered her his hand.
She took it, stepped carefully into the center, then to the bow, stowing her jacket in front of her.
She kept a leg on each side of the seat for now, so she could see Bart while they talked.
He was tall — not as tall as Robby — and slim — not thin.
He was handsome in a rough, outdoorsy way — bushy, sandy hair, aviators, tanned, not clean-shaven.
“Brought these.” He pulled a pair of paddling gloves out of his jeans and handed them to her.
“Billy said he didn’t think you’d have any. ”
Grace laughed. “Thanks. Billy knows me well.” She put them on.
“You can keep them, if they fit. Looks like they do. A guest left them. Happens a lot. So where do you want to go?”
“You know the area. You pick. Maybe a combination of paddling and a hike? I’m really looking forward to the exercise and getting out. Billy and I were gonna try, but he’s been too busy.”
“I know just the place. If you get tired, just rest. I can paddle all day.”
“Sounds great.” Grace put her right leg over, and they moved away from the dock.
They went back the way Bart had come, to the south shore.
He pointed out cabins and talked about the people who lived in them — where they were from, whether they were summer or year-round.
They passed one other canoe. Bart greeted them by name and told Grace they were summer residents who lived in one of the cabins they’d passed.
Eventually, the canoe slowed. “Let’s eat.
This is a good spot — catches a breeze in case of mosquitoes.
” He’d brought baked ham sandwiches, a thermos of coffee, two beers, and two Snickers.
They talked about what they did and their thoughts on the pandemic.
Grace realized Bart was more conservative than she was, but she still enjoyed him .
. . he loved the outdoors, even if he was less informed about the dangers that threatened it.
After lunch, he knew a hike from this place to a waterfall.
At the steep parts, he turned around and offered his hand.
Sometimes, Grace needed it; sometimes not.
The waterfall was bigger than she expected, and Bart said if she came back at the end of the summer, it would be a trickle.
The heavy flow now was due to the spring thaw and recent rains.
He took the backpack off and brought out the candy bars.
“Why are candy bars so much better when you’re doing something like this?” Grace said, taking a big bite of her Snickers.
“Everything’s better outdoors,” Bart said laughing. “I’m not suggesting it now — not that I’d turn you down — but have you ever had sex outdoors?”
Grace felt safe with Bart. “I have. And you’re right.”
“Maybe another time, just don’t wait too long — mosquitoes will only get worse.
Takes a lot of the fun out of it.” He laughed.
“Ready?” The way back was mostly downhill.
At one point, on some loose rocks, Grace slipped.
Bart caught her and lifted her up. The kiss that followed seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
When they got to the canoe, he said, “Okay, Red. Let’s see how much you got left.
So far, I’m impressed — you’ve shattered my image of a Southern belle. ”
It was about 4 p.m. when they got back to Getaway.
Grace had no doubt she was going to sleep tonight.
She stood up and so did Bart. He had the bow line in his hand.
“Better sit down till I do this and can help you out.” She got her jacket.
He got on the dock in one fluid motion, a lot like Robby, and tied the canoe. Then he turned and gave her a lift out.
“I enjoyed that. Thank you so much.”
“We can do it again sometime. I wish it was winter. We could take my team out.”
“That would be unbelievable! You never know. This pandemic could last a long time.’’
“You’d stay that long?’’
“I’m considering it.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.
******
Grace went up to the lodge about 9 a.m. the following Tuesday, earlier than usual because she and Erika were having an email conversation about a controversial point in this week’s blog post. When she opened her email, she found Robby’s short request instead:
Will you meet me in Grand Marais Thursday morning to talk? Wherever you want.
Robby
She took a deep breath. She would. She had no idea what he had to say, and she was not going to torture herself speculating. She went around the corner to where Jim was sitting with the newspaper. “Jim?”
“What’s up?”
“Are you going to town Thursday? If so, I’d like a ride.”
“Sure. I probably won’t be that long, since we don’t need much, but I’d like to get out. Let’s see . . . the Post Office, the liquor store, hardware, and Olsson’s . . . all the usuals, just not as much to pick up. I’ll call the Lakeside and see if Margie will serve us lunch. Sound okay to you?”
“Of course. That’d be great. Thanks.” It didn’t take long to respond to Robby.
Yes. I’ll come with Jim, about 10:30. He’s checking with Margie about lunch, so I don’t know yet how long we’ll be in town — his lists are shorter now. I’ll meet you at the PO — that’s his first stop.
Grace
There wasn’t anything from Erika yet, and she was all caught up at home. It looked as if this would be a good day to do laundry. Sigh. She went to log out and noticed Robby had already responded. Of course, he had cell phone service.
Thanks. See you Thursday.