How I Spent My Summer Vacation...Part Three

It is Friday.  I am cutting Cort’s hair this morning and we are going to hang out.  He works tonight.  I try hard to look like I’m not trying hard.  I shower, wear a light fragrance.  I wear a bathing suit under my sundress and flip flops.  A little tinted moisturizer, blush, mascara and little gloss.  I look at myself in the mirror and I wonder, will he notice the lines around my eyes?  Will it matter? After all, it might just be a haircut and this is the lake.  I blow dry my bangs and let the rest of my hair dry in natural waves.  I’m nervous as hell.  This is my first high school crush and I feel like I did in high school, shy, self-conscious and terribly excited.  He texts me he is on his way.  Shit.  Calm down, Tam, this is silly.

Once he arrives, all is good.  He is witty, and charming.  We decide to decide what we will do to “hang out” after I cut his hair.  My girlfriend is here, she talks with him as I run around gathering my things to proceed with the haircut.  He is wonderfully entertaining, easy to talk to and my friend and Cort are instant friends.  I start the haircut.  His hair is long and thick.  I cut carefully, afraid to cut too much because I can tell; he likes it long, but how long since his last haircut?  Cort is an easy client.  We continue our banter, and I confess to my schoolgirl crush in typing class.  He smiles that brilliant smile and says, “kinda like the one I had on you?”  We both laugh and I say, “Why didn’t you tell me”? 

After working my way through that thick head of beautiful, gray hair, I ask him to go into the bathroom to check it out.  I follow him.  “He is so tall…” I think to myself.  He makes the appropriate comments and tells me how great it looks.  We stare at each other, grinning for just a moment.  Then he bends down, puts his arms around me, placing a tender kiss on my lips.  Oh shit, this can’t be good. 

We “hang out” on the beach for about half an hour and decide to go to lunch at one of the local places on the lake.  Cort is well known on the lake.  Everyone knows him.  Everyone is wondering, ”Who is the blonde with Cort?”  He introduces me with no explanation to anyone.  We have a delightful lunch.  It’s easy.  We are catching up on the last 32 years.  There are no uncomfortable silences.  He is interesting as he talks of his dream of living on this lake.  He tells stories as if I know the locals he talks about.  I watch how he looks ahead while he thinks, and how he smiles as he remembers how it all went.  His hands are large and expressive as he speaks and I want to touch them and look at them closer.  I like to think I can read palms, so that will be my excuse to touch him.  I notice that he pulls his bottom lip in as he pauses and how he flashes me that big toothy grin when he says something funny.   I am smitten.  I am 15 again and I am afraid.   

Time slipped by so fast and it was time for Cort to go to work.  He drives away and I can’t quit smiling.  We will go to the bar tonight, my friend and I.  Cort’s sister will be there and her boyfriend is in the band.  We arrive early to get a seat and our table is big.  I see lots of people I know and recognize; small world, as usual.  Cort’s niece is our cocktail waitress and she is extra friendly to me.  She takes our drink order, and before too long, Cort is next to me, delivering my drink and sitting beside me.  This goes on all night.  The band is great and the music is blues.  I danced most of the night.  Once in a while, Cort comes out to the dance floor to dance with me.  It just feels right.  Cort’s son stops in and introduces himself to me.  He is the very image of his dad in high school.  I can see why Cort is so proud.  The night ends too fast and I am lonely thinking about going home to an empty bed.

The next day we go to lunch again.  Same lake, different location.  Same reaction from the locals…friendly, but curious.  Cort leans over and says, “We are giving them all something to talk about.”  Today feels different.  My hair is in two braids and I keep nervously twisting the ends.  He notices and tells me it’s endearing.  I am suddenly feeling much shyer, much more self-conscious and the conversation feels less natural.  As we walked onto the patio of the bar, I look up at him and all of his tallness and feel small.   There is a first time for everything.  I liked that feeling of feeling protected by this big giant.  We order and Cort begins to tell me his stories.  He is a mesmerizing storyteller.  He tells about his years of growing up on this lake, of his father, his sisters, his first hunting experience with a man who was not his father, and the impact this man made in his life.  I begin to see Cort.  Not his tallness, not his smile, not his big brown eyes, but I begin to glimpse who he is.  I ask him questions.  When did he finally decide to live here full time?  Why did he give up the rat race?  How does he do the winters up here?  Why is he alone and not with someone?  Where has HE been all my life? And WHY didn’t he tell me he had a crush on ME in high school??   Of course, those last questions, I don’t really ask, but I want to, and now my damn head is spinning and I am overwhelmed and confused by my feelings.  I am leaving to go back to Arizona in less than a week.  I love Arizona.  I have my new dreams to pursue and fulfill.  They don’t include an old high school crush that I just reacquainted with, and no matter how wonderful he seems, I know I couldn’t survive more than one winter in this frozen piece of tundra, November through May.  THIS isn’t why I’m here.  Shit, shit, shit. 

I begin to rationalize how I can have just a summer fling.  It wouldn’t be casual; after all, I have developed feelings for him.  I like him.  I might even love him.  But, I am still fragile.  I am still learning and growing and, (ugh…) dating.  AND, it’s only been three days.  What the hell?  (I know he is reading this, and I should put in a disclaimer, but I’m the storyteller now Cort, it will unfold the way I felt/feel it)  As a consenting adult, you get to make choices of who, what, where and when, but, this just seemed surreal.  I feel disillusioned by what I thought I was looking for; what was this?  Infatuation?  Fantasy?  And what the **ck?  I don’t even like to camp.  He is a mountain man.  I’m a city girl that likes to hike.  He hunts, I shop. He eats moose!  And venison.  I eat sushi and chocolate.  I get botox for pete’s sake!  We have almost zero in common in regard to lifestyle.  But we have a tiny past, a huge connection of chemistry, a shared love of this lake, but…different dreams.  

More to come...it's all written, but it's not like I can say, long story short...tomorrow....