Chapter Three
The winds had picked up and forced the crew to cover their digs and secure the equipment. Not many minded considering they were still crashing from their festivities the previous night. A few wandered around like hung-over zombies thankful for the break in the daily routine. A couple even thanked God aloud as they packed away their utensils; causing Grant to smile in spite of him self.
Ellie wandered over in small khaki shorts wearing a blue denim shirt with the tail ends tied. She brushed back a few of golden strands that had escaped her bun. Grant glanced her way and chuckled, eyeing her shirt…or, more precisely, his shirt.
Ellie shrugged, a smirk dancing across her soft features. She had stolen a few of his shirts over the year and neither of them ever verbally brought it up. It was just an exchange of smiles and looks that sealed the deal. She could steal his shirts as long as she made dinner the evening the crime took place. To both it was an even trade. Ellie wanted his shirts. Grant wanted her cooking.
"Today would be a good day to go into town," Grant stated matter-of-factly, twisting his hat in his hands. "We won't be getting much done with this act of God."
Ellie giggled. "Act of God, Alan?"
The older man shrugged. "Apparently he's taking pity on our party-goers." He replaced his hat on his head and peered over at Ellie. She was stunning in a subtle way. And young. She was at the tender age of twenty-eight and sometimes while watching her he felt all of his forty years. In contrast, at times while watching her he felt ten years melt away.
Ellie reached over and straightened his bandanna. "What did you need to pick up?"
Grant tilted his neck back to give her better access. In the beginning, he had swatted her pestering hands away. Yet, over time it had become a welcome invasion of his space. "I'll become fossilized in my sleep if I don't get more food for these scavengers."
Ellie snickered. "I noticed Claire eyeing you like a piece of chocolate fudge cake this morning. You may be right. Their starvation is causing hallucinations. You best be careful."
Backing away from her, Grant headed for his battered red pick-up truck. It really would have been a nice vehicle if he washed it and fix the chipping paint in the bed. Yet, Grant wasn't one to be bothered by menial materialistic endeavors.
He didn't ask, but he knew that Ellie was following a few feet behind him. She enjoyed road trips with him if only for the companionship. On occasion he was willing to admit to himself that he enjoyed it, too. Yet, he was a recluse by nature. Even his wife, Lisa, had perturbed him from time to time, which left him wondering why Ellie's presence never exasperated him.
Thinking of Lisa, Grant's mood began to darken. They had met at the university and were married by the time they were twenty-three. She had been full of energy and believed in living life to the fullest. Her career as a marine biologist gave her the sense of truly experiencing life.
It had caused a rift in the marriage, for Lisa, being a marine biologist, wanted to live near the ocean. They had settled on a compromise. During the fall, winter, and early spring they would live on the coast of California. During the mid-spring to late summer, they would live in Montana. It had been difficult, but they'd managed.
Then "it" struck, making her to weak and sick to travel. They hadn't meant for her to get pregnant. In truth, neither wanted children nor felt they had the time to devote their lives to raising one. Yet, inevitably she had gotten pregnant and her body rejected it. The doctors were forced to abort the three-month-old fetus, but Lisa continued to deteriorate. Her body finally shut down altogether on her twenty-seventh birthday.
Grant felt a hand come to rest on his forearm and he came to the embarrassing realization that he had been staring off into space. Ellie gave him an odd, worried look, but knew better than to pry. He just gave a faint smile and said, "Just thinking. Let's go."
End Chapter Three