45. Hike, Part I

Bonnie had long been aware that she was not Trevor Wyndham-Pryce's only passion. A large part of his heart was reserved for a classic Tesla Roadster he'd acquired some years before in sadly run-down shape and lovingly restored bit by bit to pristine condition. At some point in the process, the sleek little sports car had taken on a personality all her own, and had come to be christened 'Tessie.' Trev positively doted on his mechanical darling, and spared no time or expense in maintaining her outer appearance and inner workings in tip-top form. Bonnie was entirely convinced he had a softer spot for Tessie than for some of the people in his life.

From her vantage point atop the outer stairs, Bonnie smiled to see the stylish silver car roll noiselessly up the drive, its roof retracted and a beaming Trev at the wheel. The day had dawned sunny, and, according to the forecast, would continue exceptionally fine with temperatures in the 70s and zero chance of precipitation: perfect weather for putting Tessie through her paces on the open road. Bonnie picked up her day pack and stepped off toward the car, feeling somewhat heavy-footed in her sturdy hiking shoes. Trev leaned across the center console at her approach and pushed the passenger door open for her. "Morning," she said, squeezing into the narrow confines of the bucket seat and kissing him briefly in greeting. "You made good time. How's the old girl running?"

Trev patted the dashboard fondly. "Like a champ. Got her from zero to sixty in less than five seconds." He took in her cargo shorts, long-sleeved tee, and bandanna head scarf, and nodded approvingly. "So… got everything you need? Water? Sun screen?"

"In my pack. I've got bug spray, too, though we shouldn't need it this early in the season. And snacks, of course." She fastened her seat belt and settled in for the ride. "Where're we headed?"

He put the car in gear, and steered round the circle toward the gate. "How about Great Falls? We haven't been there in a while."

"Super! I was thinking along the same lines, actually, unless you're talking about the Maryland side! I'm not ready to tackle Billy Goat Trail again."

Trev chuckled. "Those steep sections were a little daunting. We'll leave it for later on this summer, and do an easier hike today. What do you say to doing the River Trail down the gorge and Matildaville Trail back?"

They discussed the various options and had agreed on a provisional itinerary by the time Trev turned onto the highway entrance ramp. He lost no time in revving the engine and bringing Tessie up to speed, merging smoothly into traffic and weaving through a file of driverless vehicles into the far left lane. From that point, and as long as the ribbon of road unspooled beneath them, their exchanges were limited to Trev's occasional shouts of "Too much wind?" or "You doing okay?" and Bonnie's emphatic nods or calls of "Fine!" In truth, she was unmercifully buffeted by the air streaming over the windshield, and had to clamp a hand on her kerchief to keep it from blowing off her head, but Trev's pleasure at driving Tessie's 288 horses was so transparent she would not have complained for the world. He seemed almost to laugh at the wind that whipped his cropped blond hair, and as they raced along, there was such sheer jubilation in his grin and in the flash of his blue eyes when he shot a glance her way, she could not help but answer smile for smile. The rational part of her mind argued she should be terrified at traveling so far above the posted speed limit, and with a fallible human being at the controls, but it was Trev in the driver's seat, and she trusted his skill absolutely. There was always the chance they'd be pulled over by the state police and issued a ticket, but that was the worst that could happen.

All too soon, signs for their exit appeared on the horizon, and Trev was obliged to rein Tessie in. Their exhilarating dash on the highway behind them, they were reduced, first, to poking along on the remaining local-road stretch of the trip, and then, as they drew closer to the National Park's entrance, to crawling until, finally, they found themselves at a virtual stop, the latest car in a long line moving by fits and starts toward the ticket gate. "It's backed up way earlier than I expected," Trev grumbled. "We've got a good fifteen minute wait, if not more."

"This isn't bad at all. Remember last time? We were stuck for half an hour at least."

"Right! Leaf-peeping season. The place was packed." He sighed, and leaned back in his seat, resigned. "So… did you wind up going into town yesterday with your grandfather like you planned?"

"I did, but not just with Gramps. At the last minute, my mother invited herself along. She knew all about Grammy A's portrait — turns out my father told her months ago and she never thought to mention it!"

"Well, you have to admit your grandmother's a popular subject…"

"For her protégés and sundry starving artists, but Rosa Mundy's in a completely different category. Anyway, Mom'd only seen pictures of the work in progress, and wanted to see the finished painting for herself."

"And the verdict?"

"Oh, she loved it, and Gramps, too. Good thing there was a bench nearby, because they just wanted to sit and admire it." Bonnie had taken advantage of their absorption to wander off by herself, and had been re-examining Dolphin when Rosa came up to stand beside her. Bonnie had left it to her companion to break the silence or not. When Rosa eventually did, it was not, however, to broach any of the topics Bonnie anticipated.

"I imagine my grandson looked much the same as an infant," she said, on a wistful note. "That's how it generally is with Baers: the sons take after the father. There's a strong resemblance between Rudolph and Danny, don't you find?"

Caught off guard, Bonnie swung round to stare. "How do you…?"

"I saw them together in this very gallery the night of your painting exhibition. You didn't see me, but I was here much of the time. I had to keep a low profile, of course; Rudolph would have stormed out at the first sight of me, and I was content enough just to watch them for a distance. I noticed you and Danny seemed to get on particularly well. I was hoping I might get the chance to meet him, but…" She shrugged, conceding the foolishness of such hope. "While we have these few minutes to ourselves, would you tell me something about the little fellow? Is he as sweet a child as he looks?"

Bonnie was able to reassure Rosa on that head, and her glowing report as to Danny's intelligence and artistic talent brought a proud, if bittersweet, smile to his grandmother's lips. And that, as it happened, was to prove their only private moment of the evening. "Gramps and Rosa hit it off like gangbusters," she told Trev as Tessie inched closer to the bumper in front of them. "She treated him like a celebrity, and, well, you know Gramps: he's always had a weakness for flattering female company. Over dinner, she got him talking about the old days, prompting him with what she'd heard from Grammy A, and asking him if it was all true, or what was his side of it, and off he'd go, regaling her with yet another tale. I've heard all the stories before, of course, but Gramps was in rare form last night, and kept us all hugely entertained. It was really great to see him so animated and enjoying himself for a change."

"Sounds like a fun evening, but not half as fun, I'm thinking, as the dinner you missed out on the other night."

Bonnie eyed him suspiciously. "You're joking, I take it. I've never know your office parties to be anything but dull."

"You mean tasteful and dignified," he said, cutting her a roguish sidelong look. "As retirement dinners go, it was your pretty standard stuff: unappetizing banquet fare, long-winded testimonials, the gold watch presentation and a never-ending farewell speech. Kilpatrick's always been something of a gasbag, but he really outdid himself on his way out the door. I started fantasizing, at about the twenty minute mark, about a large hook appearing out of nowhere and yanking him away, like used to happen to bad vaudeville acts."

"Poor baby," Bonnie cooed, half-sympathetic, half-amused. "I'm sorry you had such an awful time."

"But here's the thing: I didn't, on the whole. The main event was boring, and the food wasn't very good, but our table was lively all night, thanks to Vanna. That girl sure has a way about her. She has this crazy knack for putting people at ease, and getting them to open up to her. You remember Anika Patel, Navin's wife? The one who never makes a peep? Vanna managed to draw her out, and you know what? Once Anika got going, she had a lot to say for herself. The other women round the table, too. Before long, everyone was joining in, with Vanna keeping the conversational ball rolling whenever it seemed to bog down. It was lighthearted, get-acquainted-type talk for the most part, though Vanna did work in a pitch for that cause of hers, Girls, Unlimited. I wouldn't be surprised to hear they took in half a dozen new contributions Friday morning. I can tell you she made quite a few conquests by evening's end."

Bonnie could only shake her head in appreciation. "Leave it to Vanna to turn lemons into lemonade! I swear, if she put her mind to it, she could charm birds right out of the trees. I hope you were suitably grateful to her for bailing you out."

"You know it. I ordered her roses, and sent a sizable check to her charity, too." The ticket gate had come into view. Trev reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out his annual pass and held it at the ready.

"You sent her roses?" Bonnie found his flower choice perplexing, even mildly disquieting. "Red roses?"

"Red? No, of course not. Why would I do that? The florist told me it's yellow for friendship. Red is for love."