The Camp (18 page)

CHAPTER 2

The Grizzly Bear Lodge was packed as usual for this time of night. The lifts had just shut down at 3 pm. I glanced around the restaurant as everyone trickled in, partially undressing from their long day of romancing the powder. The pub was ideally situated at the base of Whistler Mountain, capitalizing on location rather than menu selection, but I enjoyed working here. It felt like home or as close to that as I could feel. I tried to shake off my long disastrous night of sleep while preparing for my shift. The images of my demise kept creeping into my thoughts. What was worse was that those images were virtually impossible. Yet, they plagued me, creating a pit in my stomach. I tried shaking the feelings of despair that kept trying to interfere with my ability to get back to my routine.

Outside the snow was falling and the night barely beginning. It was early in the season, only the upper half of the mountain was open, but it was enough to kick off the ski season in Whistler. There were the usual suspects scattered around the pub; the guys in their twenties, who had been taking nips from their flasks all day on the mountain in between runs, attempting to quickly get their server’s attention for more beer. Then there were the tables with the wives and girlfriends done up all cute, eagerly awaiting their other halves. Their actions only highlighted the fact that they had spent the day at the spa not the slopes. And, of course, there were the locals chatting up the bartender and grabbing the latest news on the hockey game.

This was the best part of my job — the people watching. Unfortunately, at times, it could also be the worst part of my job. There were days when it emphasized how alone I really was. As I puzzled over this fact, I quickly grabbed the next round of drinks from the bar and went to the corner table to deliver their long awaited goods. I had taken over the table from Karen who had to leave the pub rather quickly. It was unusual for her, and I hoped everything was okay. I made a mental note to give her a call when I got home.

I scooted between the wooden chairs that were being shuffled around as the restaurant filled up with people. The sound they made on the well-worn wood floors gave me warning that tonight was going to be busy. Exactly what I needed to keep my mind occupied.

The antique snowshoes that were balancing so delicately on the wall snagged my ponytail as I tried to make my way through the tables, and thankfully, no one saw as I fought with the decorations. Once I became unsnarled from the décor, I made my way to the table waiting for their drinks.

I saw a man with dark golden hair gently nuzzling a woman’s neck with his nose. She was thoroughly enjoying his affection. It was as if they were literally one unit. It made me chuckle. I’m not sure exactly why — maybe it was because it was a bit like my bulldog’s reaction to me when I got home from work. Or maybe it was my standard reaction when I longed for something I couldn’t have, or more appropriately, that I’d never had —
except in my dreams.

Regardless, when I appeared with the drinks, they both looked up at me and I was immediately jolted out of my doldrums. Their eyes were the most brilliant green that I’d ever seen, like emeralds filled with dark black centers, outlined with striking jets of yellow. It made my blood freeze. They felt so familiar I almost gasped aloud but caught myself. My arms became weak, but I somehow managed to keep the tray steady. I stared in silence not sure what had come over me as I tried to regain my composure.

I gazed at both of them again and realized they had the same look in their nearly identical eyes. The shapes were different, hers more almond-like, his deeper set, but nonetheless the expression and color were the same. My heart started beating too fast for its own good, and suddenly I was alive, a feeling I hadn’t felt for a long time, if ever. I placed my hand over the rat’s nest in my hair thanks to the snowshoe fiasco, trying to smooth it down, attempting anything to try to look somewhat presentable around these unusually perfect creatures.

My fingertips zinged with electricity as I grabbed the coasters and placed them in front of the couple. I tried to hide the smile that was blooming across my face as I placed the napkins on the table. I caught that they, too, were taking me in. Strangely, they didn’t seem the least bit unnerved by my reaction to them. Maybe I was doing a better job of hiding my emotions than I thought. I doubted that though.

That’s when I noticed I had three drinks for the table but only two people awaiting them. I nervously looked at the woman as I tried so very hard to speak, but no words would come out of my mouth. I grabbed the mug of hot, steaming mulled cider and placed it in front of her as carefully as possible without spilling. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t fathom what was happening. This woman was the most ethereal, enchanting person I had ever seen; besides the person sitting next to her that is. She was otherworldly. That wasn’t possible though. I was losing my mind. Lack of sleep now threatened my sanity. However, I couldn’t shrug off their familiarity, knowing if I had never seen them here in Whistler before that left only one option that didn’t seem plausible.

Wonderful feelings drifted over me, wrapping every part of my body in a loving embrace. I didn’t want to look away and I didn’t want to lose these feelings, yet I had to control myself. This was way too bizarre.

An eternity seemed to go by as I was drinking in everything about this couple, but in actuality it was only a mere second. My life stood still. After I glided the Blue Sapphire martini to the man without a drop spilled, I spun around and headed back to the safety of the bar register. Glancing back at them, I noticed they continued to stare at me, smiling as if they knew something was about to take place. I shoved my dull brown hair behind my ear so I could get one last peek at them.

That’s when I noticed that I had left the tray and the third drink on the table. Rather than go there again, I sprinted to the bathroom. Not knowing what was happening to me, I needed a moment to get myself together. I swung open the bathroom door and the wooden sleigh crashed against the door with a loud thud…another piece of décor out to get me. Everything in the Grizzly was placed with such great intention, which usually comforted me, but now it all seemed to get in my way. I needed to get to the sink and figure things out. I hoped I wasn’t getting the flu. Maybe I had caught whatever it was that made Karen go home for the night. Any sort of bug compounded with my body’s lack of sleep might explain why I was feeling so strangely tonight.

As I splashed water over my face, I couldn’t stop thinking about the two people I had encountered. What was it about them that made me feel this way and yearn for them? It was a euphoric sense that flooded over me. As I stood and looked in the mirror, I saw my reflection. I wished I hadn’t splashed all my makeup off, especially since I would be serving them for the rest of the night, the golden gods. My bedraggled expression now matched my mussed up hair. My store-bought brown hair looked especially lousy at a time like this. It made me wish I’d kept my natural auburn color.

I stared at the reflection of my eyes in the mirror wishing I could repair the mascara that had dribbled down my cheek. Realizing there was no hope, I wiped it off completely. The dark brown eyes staring back at me would never have light in them instead of that trademark blankness. Not remembering much of my childhood always made me feel so alone
; no siblings, no parents, only newspaper clippings. So not engaging with life had become my comfort. My protection. When too much personal interaction started, that was my cue to exit the situation. That’s how I had come to Whistler.

I heard laughing behind me and turned to see two bubbly ski bunnies bundled in cashmere coming through the door, obviously enjoying the evening. I tried not to roll my eyes and just flashed them a smile. I grabbed the dangling paper towel, did one last wipe of my cheeks, and left the restroom.

The pub was really hustling now. I could hear the clanking of beer mugs and the chatter an octave higher. Buckets of beer, the nightly special, were parading from one table to the next like a revolving door. The lighting went down a shade, and the stone fireplace in the far corner began roaring right on time. I saw the newest group sitting in my section and quickly went over to take their drink order. As I wrote down the drink names being rattled off, I cautiously glanced at the couple I had left so feverishly and noticed my coworker Jen had graciously removed the tray and placed the third drink on a coaster in front of the empty chair. There was still no one sitting there. I was secretly relieved. I didn’t need another perfect human adding to the complexity of my emotional meltdown. I somehow knew I wasn’t coming down with the flu. There was something about those people that lured me in.

“Miss,” I heard a man at another table shout, “can we add a starter of
poutine to our order?”

“Of course! I’ll put that right in.” My smile returned to my face, I took a deep breath and continued on with my busy night. I was nothing if not a creature of habit.

As I was entering the poutine order into the computer, a wave of ice-cold electrifying air penetrated me to my core. It was as if my bones would shatter with the slightest movement. I looked over at the front entrance expecting it to be open, but it wasn’t. I quickly looked around to gauge everyone else’s reaction, knowing I couldn’t trust my own with my sleep deprivation. Nobody seemed to notice. Why was I the only one feeling like an electrocuted ice-cube? Then, right before me, I saw the third person sitting at my favorite table. He had arrived. I didn’t know how he got there, and I didn’t even care. I stiffened while taking him in, and I knew he was the one throwing off the jolts of electricity. The couple was looking at me again, but not the newcomer. It was as if they were evaluating me, my reaction. Silly as it seemed, that’s what they had to be doing. But for what reason?

From behind, I could tell that the new guy was really
well-dressed. He sat so still, almost like a statue. It struck me kind of funny, but in a good way. He, too, had golden brown hair. His looked less than perfect, a little more disheveled than his friends or relatives or whoever was with him at the table. I liked it. There was a blowzy, rugged look about him. If he looked half as good as he did from the back, I couldn’t wait to see him from the front. Not that I had a shot, but at least, I could admire.

Promising myself that I wouldn’t again lose my cool, I let the excitement ripple through me at the thought of getting to meet him. I knew what I was feeling was in my head. There was no way other people could make you feel this way.

I spun around and quickly marched to the bar. As I waited for the next order to come up, I excitedly embraced this new feeling of energy and exhilaration that was beginning to creep up on me.

“Hey, Ana,” the bartender spoke, interrupting my thoughts, “Order’s up.”

“Thanks, Ben.” I quickly grabbed the gravy and cheese covered fries otherwise known as poutine, and trudged over to the table to drop it off so I could mosey over to my object of fascination.

“Is there anything else you need or are you all set?” I asked the
poutine eaters, unable to hide my grin. They nodded their heads and off I went.

Finally, I was about to arrive at the table of life. The euphoria was beginning to rise as I saw a glow radiating from the table. Prismatic colors were dancing off the walls around them. Recognizing another side effect of my sleep deprivation, hallucinations, I kept moving toward them. I had to meet the new guy. It was like a magnet pulling me over to him. I was certain that the others at his table noticed, but I didn’t even care. I went to the bar, grabbed some silverware as an excuse, and walked to their table.

“Is there anything else I can get right now for you guys or are you doing ok?”

When the newcomer looked up at me for the first time, my heart began racing. He had the same hypnotizing eyes as the others. Only that was merely the beginning. His skin was an exquisite shade of ivory, showing slightly that he had missed a day of shaving. His features were so striking that they almost matched his startling eyes, which were outlined with such thick lashes that it made them stand out even more than the other two at the table. He had a familiarity about him that I couldn’t place. Secretly wondering if he could have been in one of my dreams, I did my best to keep at bay the foolishness that was creeping in at such a preposterous notion. I wanted to clear the room and sit in front of him and do nothing but literally stare at the exquisite being in front of me.

I glanced at the couple to get my mind elsewhere only that didn’t work out so well. I still felt the charge. However, this time I was certain it was coming directly from him. He continued to gaze at me when suddenly I realized that he was talking. His lips were moving, but I had no idea what he was saying. His voice was the most soothing and comforting sound, like a song.
I had to get control of myself!
This was not the Ana I had grown to know and love. I should be staring coldly at him, barely giving him the time of day.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, dragging strength from an unknown place within, “I need you to repeat what you said.”

I could feel myself start to blush and went with it. I obviously couldn’t be in control of myself around these people and gave up. It’s not like I would ever see them again. Plus, I wasn’t known for being the most eloquent person anyway.

“Hey, no sweat. We were hoping for a pitcher of Whistler Ale and three glasses.” He smiled at me as if he were half relieved — as if he were in on a secret I wasn’t privy to. I did my best to try to place him from my dreams or around Whistler but fell flat. I was certain I recognized excitement in his voice, but that didn’t make any sense either. Beer wasn’t that exciting, and I surely wasn’t either. It must have to do with whatever they were speaking about before I arrived at their table, just an interrupted conversation I had wandered into.