Awakening (20 page)

After throwing some clothes, a sweatshirt, toothbrush, hairbrush, and the rest of the condoms I own into my old gym bag, I go back to the kitchen to find Ryan and my coffee.

Ryan looks delicious again, his hair smoother now, no doubt from the shower, but the rest of him looks exactly like he did when he walked in. I can’t believe he’s here in my kitchen reading the paper.

“Here’s your coffee, Young.” He lifts the cup without taking his eyes off whatever he’s reading. “Bagels are in the toaster.”

“My, aren’t you the domestic one.” I take the cup and breathe in the strong aroma. “Cream cheese?”

“Ah, yeah.” He looks up, almost surprised to see me. “Wow, you look cute.”

“Cute?” I ask in disgust. “Cute? Really.”

“No. It’s just I’ve never seen you in anything but work clothes.” He pauses and I raise my eyebrow at him. “Or uh—naked.” He stands up, admiring me. “Yeah. I like this.”

Is cute so bad? The way he’s looking at me right now, I don’t think so. I’m not used to this kind of obvious scrutiny and I blush. The closer he gets, the hotter my face gets, and not in a sexy way.

“Okay, then.” I try pushing him away, but he is a solid mass in front of me.

“Seriously, Young. You look great, edible, even.” His hands move my ponytail off my shoulder and expose my neck. With the touch of his mouth on my skin, my breath hitches up a notch. Will I never get used to his touch?

“Yeah. Okay. But.” I stammer, feeling my knees weaken.

“Hmmmm,” he says. And then snaps his head back up. “Right. Okay. Sorry.” He takes a step back. “Your surprise is waiting. Did you pack extra clothes and a toothbrush?”

“Yes, I did. Ready for anything, Sir.” I hope.

“Okay, then let’s get the hell outta here!” Suddenly boyish, he starts flipping off lights and closing the curtains. I gather up my stuff, the rest of my coffee and bagels, and we head out the door.

He takes my bag at the elevator and I sip my coffee. “I do like a girl that can pack light,” he says.

“Yeah. I hope you’re not taking me to anything fancy ’cause there’s nothing in there but jeans and underwear.”

When we step outside, he steers me toward the uncovered parking lot. Now my curiosity is piqued even more. A motorcycle, perhaps?

“Do you own a motorcycle?” I ask.

“Why yes, I do. But nice guess, that’s not the surprise.”

“You do?” I say, shocked. “For real?”

He laughs and pushes me forward. “Yes, Young. I do.”

“Then why the hell haven’t you brought that out yet? I want to ride the motorcycle!”

“You do?” Now it’s his turn to be shocked.

“Yeah. I took a class ya know. I suck at the whole steering thing. But, my instructor said I’d make a great passenger.” His eyes go wide and then narrow.

“Seriously?” He asks, suspiciously.

“Yes! Why? Everyone takes the class.”

Ryan belly laughs. “No, Young. Not everyone takes a class to learn. Not a lot of people even like to ride, let alone drive, and those that do are usually self-taught.”

“Oh. Well, whatever. I took the class with a friend of mine. She was great, missed all the cones at the test. I sucked and hit every last one of them. Just like he said, I stared at them, and where you look is where you point. I just couldn’t help myself. Anyway. Yes. I want to ride on the motorcycle.”

He stops and stares at me for a minute. “Okay. Next time I’ll bring the bike.” He smiles and we keep walking.

He stops in front of a shiny, red van. It’s beautiful, clean, square corners with a closed pop-top; it looks brand new.

“What is that?” I ask.

“That, Young, is a fully restored, 1985 Vanagon Camping Van,” he says, proudly.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“No way. You own this? It looks brand new. Did you have it restored?” I am awestruck.

In college, all the cool kids had old beat up Vanagons and would disappear for weekend camping trips to Big Sur or Half Moon Bay. Sometimes they would go north. I was never in that crowd and never went on those trips. Besides, those vans were old and run down; this van looked like it rolled off the assembly line last week.

“Had it restored? No. Is it restored? Yes, I restored it. Bought it from a guy who’d been living in it for something like five years. It’s been my sanity project.” Ryan proudly opens up the side door, exposing the inside. It’s spotless. The backseat is a couch. The wall opposite the door has a small sink, stovetop, and small refrigerator, with cabinets above. There is a cabinet door above the two front seats. Behind the back seat are sleeping bags, a backpack, and grocery bags.

I step inside to get a better look. Opening one of the cabinets I see camping dishes, spices, and silverware. I open another to find toilet paper, paper towels, and cans of soup.

“Holy cow. This is awesome!” I almost squeal.

Placing my bag on the floor, he doesn’t say anything, just smiles. Then he walks around to the front and gets in.

“Come on, Young. Time to hit the road,” he calls from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, okay. I’m coming.” I hop out and slide the door shut.

The front seat is like an easy chair in a car, large and comfortable. When he starts the van, that old VW purr is the dominant engine sound.

“I can’t believe you have one of these. I’ve always wanted to camp in one of them.” I feel like a kid, I’m so excited. The seat bounces as we drive out of the parking lot and on to the road.

“Where are we going?” I start looking around the front seat for a map.

“We are going to boondock,” he says.

“We’re going where?”

“
To
boondock. When you’re self-sufficient and can just drive into the land and park. No hook ups, no campgrounds. Just be completely on our own,” he explains.

“And they call that boondocking?” I ask, skeptical of his answer.

He laughs again, a sound to which I am becoming delightfully addicted. “Yes, Young. They call it boondocking.”

“Alrighty, then. Let’s go boondocking.” I settle into the seat and watch the road.

After about an hour and a half we enter Big Basin, one of the many state parks in this area. I take a minute to study Ryan. He looks relaxed as he steers the van through the winding roads. His hair is just long enough to be a little messy, but still sexy. He has a strong nose and chin, with just enough cheekbone to accentuate his amazing chocolate, chestnut eyes. I still can’t get over how they sometimes seem to spin.

“What?” he says, catching me staring at him.

“Nothing. I’m just admiring my choice of seatmates,” I say, smiling at him.

He laughs a little, almost shy. Not a look I’m used to.

“Your choice of seatmates, huh? Were there other options this weekend?” He glances over my way again.

“Other options this weekend? Let’s see.” I pause, watching the trees pass by. “Nope. Don’t think I had a lot on my docket.”

“Good.” He reaches across the van and puts his hand on my knee. It’s so warm and soothing, I like the feeling.

I see a sign for a campground. “Are we going to camp in there?”

“No. We’re going just deep enough to hopefully not get busted, and park. I want to be completely alone with you this weekend. Just you and me.” He flashes that wicked grin of his.

“Okay. What do you mean ‘not get busted’?” All of a sudden I’m a little nervous.

“Don’t worry about it. This is a small park. The places to really boondock are parks surrounded by BLM land. This one doesn’t have that, but I know a place we can get to through the woods. No one else should be around.” He studies the road ahead again, both hands on the wheel.

“Over a bridge and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go.”

“Yeah, something like that. But there will be no cookies or flowers at the end of this road. Just the big bad wolf.”

“Something tells me we’re carrying the big bad wolf with us, so nowhere is safe,” I muse.

“Right you are, Young. Right you are.” His eyes never leave the road.

“So.” Feeling brave, I start, “What’s the deal with you, Ryan? You don’t strike me as a typical Palo Alto lawyer. What’s your story?”

Ryan takes a deep breath before answering me.

“Well, the deal with me is that I always wanted to be lawyer. Always knew that I’d be a lawyer. My parents are lawyers. Mom did family law, divorces, child advocacy, custody, all the real messy stuff. Dad was a defense lawyer in San Diego. Growing up, I really admired them. Went straight to law school after college. Now, I’m paying off loans.”

“Okay, well, there has to be more to the story than that. According to the hall talk you just showed up a while ago, and you’re a little old for this to be your first job out of college.”

“No one said you were lacking in intelligence, Young.”

What? Slightly baffled, I stare out the window again. The trees are getting larger and taller. Outside is beautiful, unlike the atmosphere in the car, which is now chilled. Time to change the subject.

“So, you like camping, huh?”

Ryan’s demeanor changes completely and he talks the rest of the way about all the places he has camped. His favorite places are Big Sur and some places up north I’ve never heard of.

Again, I am struck by how different he is out here than at the office. I’m starting to wonder if he hates his job as much as I do. But then, I don’t want to push my feelings about my job on him. He said it himself, he has always wanted to be a lawyer and that’s what he is.

We pull off the road and slowly drive through the trees.

Alarmed, I ask, “What are we doing?”

“We’re finding the perfect spot to spend the night.” He sounds excited, his eyes scanning the area in front of the van.

I sit up and scan too, but I have no idea what I am scanning for.

He eases the van between two trees and stops. Letting the engine run, he turns to me, “How does this look?”

“Yeah!” I say, not hiding my bewilderment. “Yeah, this looks great.”

He laughs as he turns off the key. The silence hits me first. There isn’t a sound, we both just sit and absorb the quiet.

Softly, on my exhale, I hear myself whisper, “Wow. Oh my God—”

“I know, right,” he whispers back.

He opens his door to step out and I follow his lead. Outside, the forest air blasts my face. The scent is earthy and cool. I wander around the van, looking into the forest. We are completely alone. The van has scared off any animals and there are no people. I have never been anywhere like this in my entire life.

The pines needles and leaves crunch under my feet as I walk around. I hear Ryan’s footsteps behind me, crunch, crunch. I remain still, waiting, admiring my surroundings. Ryan walks up behind me and puts his arms around me; leaning back into him I take a deep breath.

“This is amazing, Ryan. I never knew you could drive less than two hours and be completely alone in the woods.”

“We’re like cattle. People like to live in herds, so even though California is crowded, there’s a lot of open space. That’s one of the reasons I moved back here from the East Coast, the open space and the weather.” He squeezes me and then quickly let’s go. “Let’s get to work, Young!”

Oh, work? Okay. “Yes, Sir!”

Under Ryan’s tutelage we pop the van’s top, creating a roof high enough that we can both stand. We unpack and organize, set up the kitchen, unload the firewood, and make the bed. After a great debate, we decide to sleep in the upper bed underneath the canopy and keep the ‘downstairs’ area for the living room. We also set up chairs and a table just outside the van for an outdoor living space.

After all the work is done, we both settle on our chairs with books. I didn’t think to bring one, but Ryan, the experienced camper, had a few extras, including a mystery that looks interesting. The rumbling in my stomach distracts my attention long enough for me to look up and see Ryan moving around the van.

“What’s up?” I ask, sleepily.

“Thought we might like some lunch, then a hike.”

I watch as he efficiently works in the kitchen to create a lunch of sliced cheese and meats, grapes, olive oil, and rosemary bread, with juice. We sit under the trees, reading and eating our delicious treats. I have never felt so decadent in my life. No wonder those kids from college always seemed so much happier than everyone else.

After lunch, I clear up and start to gather the dishes.

“Hold on, there’s an art to dishes when your boondocking.” Ryan steps in.

“Oh yeah, what’s the art?”

He smiles and takes a paper towel and starts wiping off the dishes. “Don’t do them!” He laughs.

My head leans back in surprise. “Okay. Whatever you say.” Grabbing a paper towel, I start wiping down the plates and silverware that are left.

After we tidy up and secure the food, we head out for a hike. Even walking without hiking boots, I am able to keep up. The afternoon air is dryer and hotter than when we first arrived, and the smell of redwoods and flowers is strong. Now I hear the birds chirping as we walk noisily through the woods.