Chapter 9

Anastasia

We're in a store full of nutcrackers. Christian's at the register, chatting with the elderly cashier, who's showing him a map. I'm browsing the German smokers. I pick up a Santa Claus, imagining incense smoke pouring out of the Santa Claus's mouth. Creepy.

"We can personalize one for you," a female voice says.

"Oh," I say, turning to face her, "Do you have a sample?"

"Yes," she says. She takes her phone out of her pocket and shows me a picture. I have to squint because she's keeping her distance. "I ordered this one for my husband last Christmas."

A doll of a bearded man, holding a hunting rifle, with a heart in the center. Christian. His steely eyes in woodwork, smoke popping out of his tight mouth. Will we be together by Christmas?

Christian's still speaking with the cashier, pointing to a map.

"The order forms are at the register," the woman says, her brown eyes twinkling. "It would make a good present for your boyfriend. He's handsome."

I blush. My boyfriend.

The woman walks past me and starts rearranging the ornaments.

I trace my fingers over the incense cones, comparing the Apple Strudel, the Steam Engine, and the Indian summer. I shouldn't touch everything. They'll have to sanitize it. I pick the Steam Engine scent. I'll buy this one for Christian. He conceals his emotions, like he's full of suppressed steam.

"Anastasia," Christian says, walking up to me. "Are you ready to head out?"

"Yes, I just need to buy this incense," I say, walking towards the front of the store.

"Good. I need to make a call. I'll be right outside."

I nod and walk up to the cash register.

"We're glad to have you two here." The cashier says, as he scans my purchase. "Things haven't been the same without the festivals. We need more couples like you all coming here."

"We're glad to help," I say, handing him my credit card. I should buy something else. There's a row of military themed ornaments behind the register. I pick up a nutcracker dressed in Marine Blues, which makes me think of Ray. "I want one of these too. The Marine."

The cashier nods, as I place the nutcracker on the register.

My shoulders brush a wooden object, getting it unhinged. I catch the small house before it falls to the ground. There's a thermometer attached. I hope I didn't mess it up. "Damn it," I mutter.

The cashier comes to my side, his gait is fast despite his age. He adjusts the small house getting it centered on the small hook.

I back up some, knowing he's more at risk. "I'm sorry. I didn't see it."

The old man fiddles with something in the house. He situates two figurines balancing on a small bar.

My face must be redder than the house shutters.

"It's fine sweetheart. We have too much inventory," the old man says, his voice shaky. "This is a Weather Haus. When the man comes out of the house, it means rain is coming. When the woman comes out, expect good weather."

"I'll take that too," I say, breathing heavy.

"You don't need to do that," he says, ringing up my purchases.

"I want too." I pick up the Weather Haus and hand it to him. "It'll make a good present."

The cashier raises one of his thin white eyebrows. His voice gets quiet. "You should keep it for yourself." He glances out the window, in Christian's direction.

Christian paces on the small sidewalk in front of the shop, talking on the phone.

"Men often need a reminder. Something to show them how the world works," the cashier says, handing me back my credit card. "Put it somewhere your boyfriend can see it."

My breathing slows down. This man's off his rocker. But I want to know more. My eyes dart from Christian to the cashier. "A reminder? I don't understand."

The old man gives me the shopping bag. "The Weather Haus is a visual reminder of how the world works. When the man leaves his house, he faces rain. His world doesn't get better."

º-º-º-º-º

I sit outside on a bench, examining my purchases, while Christian finishes his phone call. Another work emergency.

A husky man with dreadlocks and an arm full of tattoos trots past me, holding a woman's hand. They sit down on the bench parallel to mine. "Fuck this all," The man says huffing. He puts his hands in his long hair. "I can't believe they closed."

"It's okay… I'll drive." The woman says. "There's a guy in Seattle." She kisses one of his braids softly and touches his hands.

He lets out a deep breath. "Got an alert. Fire in Chikin. Shouldn't affect the drive. The highways might be blocked with the protests."

"Sorry about that," Christian says, putting his phone in his pocket. He hands me a small gift bag. "For you."

"Thank you," I say, smiling. Should I tell him about the highway protests and fires? No. It's not important. Don't ruin it. I open the bag and find a German smoker doll with white hair and cinnamon incense. My heart swells, as I recognize the tiny bow and arrow. Cupid.

"That's…" I start, trying to summarize my feelings. "That's…"

"A good memory," Christian offers. He grabs my hand and pulls me up. We start walking to the SUV.

"Where to next?"

"How about a treasure hunt?" Christian proposes, as we reach the parked SUV.

"Sure, that could be fun…wait, theme parks aren't open."

"Not a theme park." Christian says, squeezing my hand. "A game."

"Hmmm…" I mutter, as he opens the passenger door for me.

"Have you heard of geocaching?" Christian asks, once he's in the vehicle.

The warning light flashes again, making the annoying chime.

I ignore the warning. Geocaching sounds familiar, but I can't place it. He shifts the car into drive and starts backing up. We covered British sportsmen in one of my elective classes. People used to look for letter boxes. "A box-hunt?"

"More or less," Christian says, as he pulls onto the side road next to the highway. He reaches into his pocket and passes me his phone. "Pull up the green app. It explains more."

I squirm in my seat. Using his phone, brings me back to quarantine. To the weeks of caring for him. To the weeks I spent trying to forget about him. I cross my arms in front of my chest. I don't want to think about it.

"You're not interested?" Christian says, as we pass a gas station. "We could go to a winery."

"No, I want to try the box hunt," I say, finding the green app. His profile summary states he has over 500 finds.

"Pick one of the green boxes and I'll show you how it works."

Pressing the map button generates tons of little green box icons. "Will we find a physical box?"

"There's a terrain rating for each cache. They vary in sizes, but yes there all physical objects."

I click the box icon closest to our current location. How do I get us there? I'm imagining an old weatherproof box, hidden in the woods. We better stay on a trail. I don't want any run-ins with wild animals.

"Did you find one?" Christian asks.

"There's one a half mile from here," I say, pressing the app's compass button. "Does the difficultly level or size matter?"

"Not for me," Christian says, "What's the terrain rating?"

"2.5," I say, suppressing a growing smile. Reviewers say that this geocache is brutal to find. Maybe I should take his confidence down a notch. "Pull off at the rest stop on the left."

Christian smirks, as he parks the SUV in the middle of the gravel parking area. "Give me the phone. I'll direct us."

"Wait, I need to write down the grid coordinates," I say, finding a pen in the side compartment. I write down the coordinates on a receipt.

He raises an eyebrow.

"We're a team," I say, smiling. He doesn't need to know my stepdad taught me land navigation.

"True." Christian says, exiting the vehicle.

I follow him out, pecking him on the cheek.

"My phone please," Christian says, holding his hand out.

"Here it is." I hand it to him.

He walks around the parking area, while I slyly type the longitude and latitude into Google Satellite view. Now, we can both conduct searches.

The coordinates indicate that the box should be on the fence line. I start walking towards the chain-link fence.

"Over here." Christian shouts from the concrete picnic tables.

There? Maybe I typed the wrong coordinates.

"Shoo Fly don't bother me," He says, as he stares at his phone.

I shrug. What's he talking about?

"That's the hint," Christian says, as he ducks underneath the table.

"Oh," I mutter. Shoo Fly don't bother me. The box might be hidden near the overfilled trash can. But my map points towards the fence. Hmmm…he's gotta be right. I'm new to this game. But, what if I'm not wrong?

Christian stands up and kicks around the trash can.

"Are you sure it's here?"

"It's within 30 feet," he huffs.

"Can I see the app?"

Christian shakes his head. "I've almost got it."

Liar. I cover my arms, shivering a little. There's a breeze here and my workout clothes don't cover my arms. I step around, examining the rest stop. Overgrown weeds line the sidewalks. I walk past littered aluminum cans.

Christian bends down to pick up an aluminum can. His forearms are still pumped from climbing earlier. The veins stick out.

Moisture drops in my underwear. Oh gosh. Stop that. The fabric of my yoga pants is too thin. I don't want his to smell my arousal. Think of is attitude. We're supposed to be a team. And he's not sharing. Speak up. "Christian, how do I know what we're looking for?"

"It should have the logo of the app," Christians says. "It'll be micro-sized. Think of it as a pill container."

"I think it's over there," I say, pointing to the fence line. "I put the coordinates into satellite view."

Christian shakes his head.

"Let me see your app." I stride to him and show him my phone. "I need to compare the screens."

"Remember the hint," Christian says, not listening. "The compass feature isn't always right." He points to the trash and tries to tug his phone out of my hand.

I hold on tighter to his phone. "Look, if I move towards the fence, your app shows we're getting closer. It says we're 25 feet away when I take step that direction."

"I'll lead," He says, taking his phone out of my hands.

I huff, then, move towards the fence, feeling annoyed. We've tried it his way for the last thirty minutes. I kick some dirt as I walk.

"Ana wait…"

"I think it's this way. A reviewer said it's unusual."

"It's not there Ana," Christian hisses, moving to my side. "This was a bad idea. The caches might have been moved. No one's checking on them with Covid."

I ignore him and bend down, touching the bottom of the fence. I dig into dirt. A pill container. Where is it? Shoo fly don't bother me. "What do we get if we find it?"

"We sign the logbook," Christian says, wearily, sitting up against the fence. "Why do you think it's here?"

"The coordinates shouldn't lie."

"Come look with me."

We meet eyes. He mutters something I can't hear and runs his fingers across the fence.

"My stepdad taught me about maps," I murmur, after we've looked for five minutes. "Please your phone."

Christian hands it the phone to me. "Your stepdad?"

"Yes, he raised me," I say, rechecking the app. "He was a Marine."

"Do you talk to your biological dad?"

"He died. When I was a baby."

Christian nods and scratches his neck.

I don't push him. He doesn't know I've read his file–I know he was adopted.

He exhales. "Let's head out, it's getting late and this geocache is lost. Someone must have moved it."

"One more minute," I say, shuffling the leaves underneath the pole of the fence and feel something stuck to the metal. A magnet. I pull it out and hand it to Christian. "Here."

Christian wipes the mud off the cache and starts unscrewing the small container. "A horsefly cache," he says, "That's a first."

I sit next to him and lean into him to get a better look.

He pulls a thin strip of paper out of the capsule and hands it to me. "You were right."

"Let's take a picture," I gush. Ray would be proud. "We can post it to the activity log."

"Stand up away from the fence and hold the logbook," Christian says, "We don't want any spoilers."

I pull myself up and walk a few steps backwards near a tree.

He snaps the picture as I hold the logbook like's it's a piece of gold.

"That was awesome!" I say, while I bend down to snap the magnet back in place. There's mud on my hands. It smells like poop. "I should wash my hands."

"Should we head to the lodge? Eat dinner there?"

"Yes," I murmur, and then kiss him softly. I'm careful not to touch him with my hands.

"Let's go," He whispers in my ear. Christian abruptly freezes. "Anastasia don't move."

I stiffen, confused. "What's up?"

"Stay silent." His hand outstretched. "Trust me."

I nod. My heart thuds in my chest. I'm not sure what's happening. My eyes dart around the rest area. I don't see anyone else here.

"LEAVE cougar. NOW!" Christian shouts. He sounds like a cheerleader directing a crowd. Damn. "LEAVE!

I gape at him. Cougar? Here.

He directs his attention to the picnic table.

I stay frozen but strain my eyes, trying to see what he sees. I don't see anything. My heart beats even faster. Is he fucking with me?

"We're larger than you cat. LEAVE."

An animal pop up from beneath the picnic table. Shit! That's a big cat. It strolls closer to Christian. The cougar's stide is lazy, but it could pounce at any moment.

Christian's eyes laser focus on the animal. "LEAVE.

The sleek animal, steps gracefully closer to Christian, like it's playing a game. It reddish-brown, and there's a black tip on its tail. It now looks different than a cat. More like something I'd see at the zoo.

I scan the picnic tables and wonder if the litter attracted it. I send a small prayer to the universe. I'll donate to the clean-up if you save us, I bargain.

"LEAVE!"

The animal isn't deterred. It's black dropped tail twitches, its teeth blare, and it pumps its hind legs. This can't be good. Ray would recommend chucking something at the animal. I need to speak up.

"Throw something at it," I hiss. My voice wavering.

In a sudden movement, Christian flings his phone at the animal. "LEAVE!"

The phone must scare the cougar. It scurries away towards the nearby woods.

"Ana, get in the car." Christian says, throwing the key fob my direction.

I run towards the car, unlocking it and jumping in.

Christian comes back a minute later, jumping into the driver's seat. He locks the door and leans over to kiss me.

My hands are disgusting but I don't care. I whimper as he deepens the kiss, extending it. I break contact first pressing my lips together, separating us as I hear the vehicle warning light chime again. "Get me out of here."

Christian starts driving, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"You were great out there."

He gives me a wry smile, as he drives on the side road. "Your quick thinking. It worked with the cache and the cougar. I underestimated you."

º-º-º-º-º

The view of the Cascades is gorgeous from the balcony of our cabin. We walked through the organic garden before checking in and the sight of plump, local tomatoes made me famished. Christian should order bruschetta. I'm sipping local white wine, wearing the dress I purchased while we were shopping "downtown."

The air's smog filled but I can still see the lodge's grotto in the distance. I stand up and lean against the balcony's wooden railing.

"Food will be here soon," Christian says, sneaking up behind me. "I hope you're hungry." His muscular arms envelop mine.

I shiver. This sundress isn't for mountain evenings.

"More wine?" he asks, gesturing toward my half empty glass.

"Yes," I murmur. There's only one bed here. And it's adorned with rose petals. I need as much wine as I can get.

Christian fills my glass. He laughs as I back up away from him and take a giant sip of wine.

"You're killing me," he murmurs as I bite my lip

I'm so embarrassing. I should have bought new underwear, something with more lace.

"Your beautiful," he says, reading my mind.

He takes my hand leading me to the master suite.

"Christian," I whisper, spilling the wine.

He nipples my ear.

"I…I'm ahhh…"

His eyes lock on mine.

I need to just spit it out. Tell him I'm a virgin.

The hotel room's phone rings breaking the moment.

I take another sip of wine. I need to relax my nerves. There's a voice daring me to just do it. To initiate and see what happens. My eyes flicker to the bed. After climbing a boulder and avoiding a cougar, sex should be nothing. Right?

"What do you mean it's a level 2?" Christian says, running his hands through his hair. It looks a little overgrown. Where else is he hairy?

My stomach knots and there's a lump in my throat. I'm not ready for this.

"When did it happen?" He says, groaning. A business thing?

I sit on the bed and pick at a rose petal. Should I tell him about my inexperience? Maybe it's not a big deal if he never finds out. I could fake it, right? I start piling up the rose petals.

Christian looks impatient with whoever's talking, like they're forcing him to sit through a long-winded explanation. "Okay. Yes, I understand. We'll book another weekend."

"What happened?" I ask.

"2020" he mutters.

"Did they overbook?" I ask, trying to make sense of the situation. It didn't look like many tourists were here.

Christian shakes his head.

"About 22 miles north, a fire has started, it's not contained. We're in the level 2 evacuation zone, so leaving is voluntary…" He scans my face, waiting for my reaction.

I try to keep a blank face. Level 2 is voluntary. We could stay.

"We'll come here another time."

But…we're already here. I look longingly at the beautiful bed and choose to lie down. I'm not sure what I'm doing or why I'm challenging fate, but I put my fingers on my stomach and slow down my breathing. I'm not sure I want to leave quite yet.

"Ana," Christian says, lying next to me. His face hovers over mind, and his expression shows curiosity. "Don't you want to head out?"

"I want…" I start, trying to think of how to phrase it. "I need to tell you…" I don't know if I'm ready to tell him yet. The boulder. There's a cost to waiting on the rock. If I wasn't climbing, I couldn't just hang there. Waiting took energy.

"What do you want?"

"Speed matters," I mumble.

Christian stares at me, his mouth open.

I take his hand and use the minimal strength I have to pull it over my body. I kiss him, encouraging him to cover my body with his.

"Ana, what were you trying to say earlier?"

"I umm…" I can't tell the truth right now. I'll lose my nerve. "I want you."

Christian groans as we make-out and pulls me closer. His hands trail down my sides, until they reach the edge of my dress, caressing the bottom of my thighs. His strength traps me. His body weighs more than mine.

I wiggle, leading him to exhale. He's hard. I'm at a stopping point. How far do I want to take this? I catch my breath as he meets my eyes.

"Ana," Christian says, between breaths, his lips pursing. "What do you want?"

My heart rate increases. Can he handle the truth?

He leans in again and rests his hand on my cheek forcing me to meet his eyes. "Ana, you need to tell me."

"I…" I start breathing heavier. "I…need you to wear a condom."

He growls and presses his lips into my neck. His fingers inch towards my underwear, stroking me, teasing. My dress covers me, yet his hands are underneath. His fingers lift the elastic of the satin fabric up, as he runs his fingers towards my bead: applying deliberate, strategic pressure.

I push my body closer into his.

He alternates between contact and absence.

I'm being caressed by an expert, but my mind is fucked up. I rotate between pleasure and panic as I wonder if I'm adequate down there. Everything must get slippery because I feel myself gush.

Christian yanks the fabric down, and adeptly removing my underwear.

I wince and my body squirrels away from him, into the fetal position. I shouldn't have worn those satin briefs. They must look like granny panties compared to what he's used to.

Christian smirks at me.

I'm flushed. Everywhere.

He adjusts his body, over mine pushing my arms forward out of there scrunched position. "Your beautiful," he murmurs. He kisses me again on the neck and renders me speechless.

"Thank you," I say softly. I'm overthinking it. I need to tell him about my virginity. "Christian I'm…"

"You're incredible," he says, as he tantalizes me with a finger. This time he reaches inside, and I whimper. It's a purposeful movement, skilled and rhythmic.

My body's primed. But I need to touch him too. How should I please him? The website didn't teach me that. I should have focused on that during quarantine. I try to reach out and touch him.

He pushes my hand down and focuses back on the small bead.

I stroke the front of his pants with my fingers and find his zipper. I'm strategizing and lose focus, the rhythm of his movement, of his hands is getting to me. "Christian, I want…"

He misinterprets it, because he breaks the kiss and pulls a condom out of his pants. He's fully clothed. Fuck. He kisses me again as he throws his wallet on the floor.

The wallet lands with a thud.

The sound awakens my nerves. My fear of not being good enough. My body tenses.

He tears apart the foil wrapper.

My body tenses. I don't want this anymore. But it's too late.

Christian stops moving and stares at me.

My eyes must have betrayed me–did he see my fear?