Made Marian, Volume One by Lucy Lennox
Jamie
After the Dall band had wandered off, I reached for my notebook and began taking notes. I described each ram in detail. The ring count on the main guy showed him to be over ten years old. Lucky bastard.
I heard Teddy move to sit beside me and rustle through his backpack.
“Jamie,” he said in a low voice. “That was surreal.”
“It was. Those guys in the band are pretty impressive and mature. You should see the babies in the spring. They’re like little white cotton balls with fluffy Afros. And when their horns start to come in they’re all tiny like baby devils.”
He chuckled softly. “Jamie likes baby Dalls.”
I snorted and replied, “Yes, I do.”
Teddy laughed and I quirked a brow at him. “You referred to them as ‘the guys in the band.’ That’s just funny.”
“You call a group of Dall rams a ‘band,’” I replied.
“There are some crazy names for animal groups. It’s a little strange there are so many different names when you could just say ‘group.’”
I smiled. “Actually, animal group names are kind of a thing with me. I was fascinated with them when I was younger and memorized as many as I could. I get a kick out of them even now.”
We stopped halfway back to the truck and I pulled out some water bottles and protein bars from my bag. I handed one of each to Teddy and he thanked me before asking, “Where to next?”
“Well, if we wind up seeing the group of Dall ewes on the way back to the truck, we’ll check them out. But I doubt they’re around here right now. We’ll drive over to a shallow river about thirty minutes away that often has caribou and moose nearby.”
“Everything is so spread out. You must do lots of driving.”
“Yes, that part is a pain in the ass,” I replied. “Denali and the surrounding preserve take up as much land as Switzerland, so it takes a while to drive from one end to another. But I listen to music and audio books, which helps.”
We ate and packed back up before continuing on the trail. A fat marmot waddled across the trail, and I stopped to point it out to Teddy. He squatted down to get a photo and was rewarded when the marmot heard the movement and turned back around to look at him.
While Teddy was taking the shots, the marmot’s buddy came trundling along from behind a nearby rock and tackled his friend. They ended up in a wrestling match that escalated to a standing version of a comical slap fight. One of them fell back down on all fours and raced toward the tree line. His buddy gave chase behind him, making Teddy laugh.
We got to the truck and stowed our bags. I turned on the CD player and acoustic guitar music started playing softly. “That’s nice. What is it?” Teddy asked.
“No idea,” I said. “I bought the CD at a furniture store when I heard it over their speakers and asked about it. I love it though. What kind of music do you listen to?”
“I like a little of everything. The playlist on my phone is insane. Because I travel so much, I listen to tons of stuff from all over.”
As we turned onto the main road Teddy’s phone pinged as a few texts came in all at once. He looked at the screen and then typed on it before turning to me and explaining, “My buddy Mac is having girlfriend problems.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, he started dating this chick a couple of months ago, but apparently something went wrong after I left for New Orleans. She left him. It’s weird because they seemed like the real thing.”
“Have you met her?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Gorgeous redhead. I met her just last weekend. I really liked her and he was all moon-eyed over her. He couldn’t keep his hands off her the whole time we were at dinner.”
I pointed out that sometimes that indicates lust, not love. He agreed but continued, “Something was different with this woman and Mac though. I’d never seen him in love before. They work together, so maybe something happened at the office to fuck it up.”
“You should call him.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll wait a couple of days in case it’s just a spat.”
After I asked him how he knew Mac, he told me about growing up best friends. Teddy’s mother had died when he was young and his father was an alcoholic who didn’t have much time for grocery shopping or cooking healthy meals. When he became friends with Mac, Mac’s family became like a second family. Being with Mac’s family made him feel normal. They were both only children so they became kind of like brothers.
I asked him about his relationship with his dad now. “Are you close to him? Does he live in New York?”
“No, we’re not that close, and he still lives in my hometown a few hours away from the city. After I left for art school, I started realizing some of my health issues were created at home. Dad was a heavy smoker. I got away from Dad and felt better. My diet was under my control for once, so I taught myself how to make healthier choices. That’s when I learned to cook. My buddies in college thought my healthy cooking was pretty great. I have a group of close friends from Pratt who credit me for keeping them from the big college weight gain.” He chuckled.
“In college, I felt alive and healthy for the first time in years. It made me associate feeling sick with my dad and my childhood. My resentment towards him grew until I just couldn’t stand to go home anymore. Now I avoid my hometown like the plague. I feel bad though. He isn’t getting any younger, and the drinking and smoking will surely catch up with him soon. He texts me sometimes and I try to make it home for the holidays. It weighs on me more now for some reason.”
Teddy looked at me. “What about you? Parents, siblings?”
I saw something ahead through the trees and pulled the car to the side of the road to park. Whispering even though we were closed up in the truck, I said, “Look, grizzly.”
His eyes grew wider and he reached into his lap for the camera he had kept out. I pointed and described where to look. About forty feet from the road, a grizzly sow lay in the tall grass snoozing.
Teddy rolled down the window to take several snaps before asking quietly if he could get out to get a better angle. I handed him my bear spray can and told him to hook it to his pants pocket and to stay at least twenty-five feet back from the sow.
Before he reached the door handle, I said, “Make sure you leave the truck door open and stay between the bear and the truck. Don’t take your eyes off her. I don’t see any cubs, but you never know.” His eyes met mine and he nodded. Good, he was taking it seriously.
He got out and moved around, alternatively kneeling and crouching to get some different shots. God, he had a nice ass. He had shucked his coat and fleece when the truck warmed up, so I saw his shoulder and back muscles moving under his T-shirt. I realized I was staring.
Well, he was with a bear. Of course I should stare. For safety reasons.
I needed to lust after this cocky photographer like I needed a surfboard here in Alaska. If I didn’t get him to catch a plane away from here ASAP, I wasn’t sure I could avoid accidentally jumping him again.
Well then, Jamie. Do what you need to do to get him to complete his assignment quickly and hit the road.
