The Fall Colors of Change

John Anderson

The Fall Colors of Change

           Davis pulled his car over to the side of the road into the scenic lookout parking area. The drive had been a twisting turning route as the road climbed up towards the Continental Divide in the middle of Rocky Mountain National Park. As he got out, he walked to the front of the car,  and plopped himself onto the hood. If luck would have it, she would come driving by in the next few minutes. With his heart beat up a few ticks, and the majestic scenery spreading out before him, he sat there, taking it all in…..and he waited.

*                                  *                                  *

           After three years of intense schooling, hard work, and a little luck, Davis had worked his way to the head chefs’ position at a very swanky Colorado mountain Dude Ranch. The place was so exclusive that if the client were over five years old, they paid full price. This week a movie star with his new French pastry wife were among the guests. Their three-year-old son, Marcel, was a bit of a wild child. He would pee in front of other guests, laugh, and then run away. Mostly though, he liked to pee in the pool.

Celebrity has its privileges.           

           During his interview for the job position the year before with the ranch manager, Taylor, they both chatted very informally.

           “I was raised by a single mom,” Davis said, so I spent a lot of time growing up with my grandmother. I always enjoyed being around her when she cooked.”

           “Tell me more,” Taylor said. 

           “She would add a pinch of this, a handful of that. She’d taste it, nod her head sideways as if she were contemplating a mathematical formula, then move on to the next step.   I guess I inherited some of that,” Davis smiled.

Davis was marking time at the Colorado Ranch. Within the next five years, he hoped to become an Executive Chef at a destination resort. Perhaps somewhere on the California coast; maybe Santa Barbara, or better yet, the Big Island of Hawaii. But for right now, this Colorado spot was perfect. He was grateful to be here. He was good at his job. The future looked bright. 

Work was hard; days long, but that was part of the territory. It was the summer tourist season, and he was committed. The old cowboy who took care of all the horses at the Ranch had an old, worn wooden sign out in the barn that read, “The only substitute for hard work….is a Damn miracle”. Davis identified.

A phone call on Wednesday, from his old friend, James over on the front range in Fort Collins broke the spell. 

“D-man, get in that fancy sports car of yours and get your ass over here. We’ve got a two-day baseball tournament. You’ll be our Ringer. Just bring your glove and spikes and those baseball skills of yours.”

“What are you offering as reward coach? Davis kidded. “A good shortstop commands a pretty hefty salary.”

“OK, OK Mr. big shot, James replied. “We’ll  buy all the food and all the beer. You just show up. Be here by Friday night. The first game is Saturday morning at 8:00 No excuses.

Friday morning dawned bright and clear. “OK,” Davis said to his second in command. The Prime Ribs are prepped and in the walk in, ready for tonight. “The TESCO delivery truck should be here late morning with all of next week’s order.”

 He tossed the clip board onto his desk, took off his apron and threw it basketball style into the dirty laundry bag. “Two points,” he said as it swished into the bin. “I haven’t had a day off in almost a month. I’m checking out, you will not be able to reach me….at all,” he said with a gleeful smile.” I ’ll be back late Sunday.” With the top down on his convertible, he was out the door and on the road by ten.

About an hour into the drive, and well into the majesty of the Park, he came around a corner and saw a million dollar view. He pulled into a scenic spot and got out of the car.  A small creek spilled peacefully over a beaver dam. The view up the valley was spectacular. The aspen and birch trees were changing into their fall yellows. He could smell the crispness of autumn in the air. Life in the kitchen was always hectic. This scene was different, it provided a sense of absolute calm. He stood there, hands on hips, and took it all in. Mother Nature at its best he thought. 

Off to his left, thirty yards away, Davis saw someone down in the creek bed taking pictures. It was a young woman. She was down on one knee, next to the creek bed, half hidden behind a small stand of willows. She looked up and they made eye contact. He grinned; she smiled back. An electric charge zinged across the parking lot. Davis smiled to himself, then after a few seconds, wandered back to his car.

About five miles up the road, he saw a better view, this one more majestic. He stopped the car and got out. He ambled over to the edge of the lookout, and saw three mule deer, frozen still, not moving, looking back at him. He heard a car coming. As the deer bounded away, he looked over and saw the woman who’d been taking pictures drive by. She seemed to slow down a little, their eyes met again, and she smiled at him as she passed. His heart flickered as he watched her drive on.

           This hokey-pokey, leapfrog dance happened two more times over the span of the next hour. He noticed her, off in another creek bed, taking more pictures of some wildflowers. A few miles further, she drove by him again, as he stood, staring out to the west, watching a bald eagle ride the air currents.  A single voice inside him said, Do something about this!

As he drove along, he made a decision. He pulled over at the next spot that came along. With a stomach full of butterflies, he got out, jumped on the front hood of his car, and waited for her to drive by. Two minutes later, her white Toyota came around the corner. As it slowed, he gave a smiling nod, and she pulled over and parked just in front of his car.

           As she got out, Davis felt another small ping in his chest. She glanced his way, smiled, not saying anything. Time just hung there. “I’m Davis,” he said. She demurely held out her hand, and in an accent that was pure Texas said, “Hi, I’m Melissa”. Her voice was absolute silk. Davis kind of half fell, half jumped off his car’s hood as they shook hands. The small tingle of a charge passing between them suddenly became a jolt.

           Melissa had dark shoulder length hair. She had a wry smile and a button nose. She was average height and moved like a dancer. “And those eyes”, Davis would confess to her the next day, “those eyes made me melt.”

           After some small talk, they decided to join forces and explore the Park together. He took pictures of her; she took pictures of him as they took in the grandeur of the Park.  They hiked up a narrow trail, just above tree line into a big field of late summer wildflowers. It was a script straight out of a movie. By five o’clock they were holding hands. “Let’s find someplace and have dinner”, Davis suggested.

 “Let’s,” Melissa smiled.

They walked back towards the cars through a big patch of lavender colored Fireweed, still in bloom. As the sun filtered through clouds, it caught Melissa in a backlight, creating her in silhouette. “Wow, Davis thought to himself. “Is this real?”

 The sun painted the surrounding peaks in an early evening alpenglow.

Over hors, d’oeuvres they continued to talk, sharing life’s details, their likes and dislikes, family dynamics and past relationships.

 “I’m just coming out of an ugly divorce’” she said.

“How ugly?” Davis asked.

“We got married too young, she said, “we grew apart. It didn’t stick. I worked full time as a nurse, to put him through med school. Then the shithead decided he needed space, so he left”. “I think he had started seeing someone else,” she said.

“Ouch,” Davis said, as he tenderly reached for her hand. “Did you get an attorney and sue his ass?”

“Naw, I’m kind of an old soul. I knew what I wanted early on, I went to nursing school, worked really hard, graduated in three years, married the guy and was ready to live “happily ever after.” Melissa paused, looked down, thinking, and shook her head “Now, … well, now I’m off on my adventure,” she smiled. “I’ll be OK, I just know it will take a little time.”

“Brave girl,” Davis said “I’m impressed with how well you’re taking this”      

“I got lost in his Doctor title,” she laughed. “I wanted us to work for the wrong reasons. “Besides, I’ve had eight months to try and sort this out.  Every day is a little better than the day before. Now, I’m going rogue”, she laughed. “What about you?”

“I was a scientist” Davis said. I went to school for four years, then worked for one-year at University Hospital doing cancer research. My mom wanted me to be a doctor,” he laughed. “Well, I didn’t have the drive and I couldn’t get through organic chemistry, so I just sort of settled, for a research position. I was bad at it, and figured I better get out before I killed someone.”

“At least you were smart enough to see where your limits were, Melissa said”

“What are you doing now?”

Davis told her about his chef position. “The Hotel -Restaurant business is so high energy, It’s quite intoxicating. But it is also long hours and hard work. The old restaurant motto. Take one day off, get two days behind, really is true. But it has allowed me to travel. I’ve spent time in Louisville, Memphis, learned French cuisine, while being a ski bum in Jackson Hole. I had a stint in both California and Arizona. They are my steppingstones to something better.”  

Do you have a favorite spot”? Melissa asked.

           “This Colorado thing is working out quite nicely. Look where it’s gotten me today. I’m sitting here having dinner with a drop-dead gorgeous nurse.”

Melissa just shook her head and smiled, “Nice try there Romeo.”

Davis called the waiter and ordered a bottle of wine.

 “Are you kidding me?” Melissa cried, “That is my favorite wine in the whole world.” She gently leaned over and softly kissed Davis on the cheek. Davis looked at her and smiled. They both laughed out loud. There was tender magic in the moment.  He had always been a hopeless romantic. But this, what were the odds of this happening? This was the stuff of storybooks.

Davis leaned in and they kissed… a sweet, soft, lasting kiss.

 During dinner, the waiter brought full plates and took away the empties. Two hours slipped away, as they looked moon pied across the table at one another.

 “I’ve got to make a call.” he said, excusing himself after dessert.

 “James, I’m not making the baseball tournament tomorrow. I’ve met someone, and I ain’t coming.”

“You’re what?” James yelled.  Does this someone have four legs and a tail. You’re in the middle of Rocky Mountain National Park for gods sake. You can’t do this, you promised “

“Sorry buddy,” Davis laughed. “You’ll have to get yourself another shortstop, I’ll tell you all about it sometime.”

“She must be something special”, James croaked.   

 They left the restaurant hand in hand and found a room at the adjoining lodge.

They stayed in bed until two the next afternoon. They spent the rest of Saturday taking pictures, gazing at the scenery of the jagged peaks and fall colors that flooded the valleys. They shopped for trinkets in the quaint town just outside the Park. Sunday, Melissa got ready to leave for the rest of her adventure, aiming north towards Wyoming and the Tetons. Davis was headed back to the Ranch. The past thirty-six hours had been something straight out of a Disney movie script. It now didn’t seem real.

“Well, if my geography serves me correctly, to get from Wyoming back to Texas, you have to come back through Colorado”, Davis said.  “You really ought to come back through here and let me cook for you.”

“I just might have to do that”, Melissa laughed. “Do I have to make a reservation?”

“Naw,” he laughed, “when you get to the ranch, tell them that you know “The Big Cheese” who works in the kitchen. It’ll be easy street from there on”.

*                                  *                                  *

Six days later, Davis was neck deep in the dinner rush when he saw Melissa walking up to the lodge. His heart skipped a beat. He was a bit mixed up. He really did not think he would ever see her again. He burned the hollandaise sauce and dumped an entire pan of broccoli on the floor. And now here she was. Yahoo, he screamed to himself.”

  For the next few days, the dream continued. Davis took her for a wild ride on horseback through the creeks, and then up to the north end of the ranch, into the high country. They had a picnic lunch, made love, and swam in a small mountain lake.

Two days later, Davis stood outside the lodge and watched as she drove away, aimed for Dallas and the life she had come from. A piece of his heart seemed to go with her. All around him, the ranch was a flurry of activity; kids, horses, coming and going. But he felt alone, isolated, solely unto himself. He felt a little lost, no, not really lost, more melancholy. Something had changed in him. 

            September at the Ranch that year felt different for Davis. All the families had gone, the kids were back in school. The fall guests were more mature. Husband and wife teams replaced the families groups from the mid-summer. These guests seemingly more worldly, more fun and more adventurous. Davis liked the looks and feel of this lifestyle.

“I’ve worked almost three months with only a few days off,”   Davis mused to himself. “Melissa had a gut punch to her life and look how well she’s dealt with that,” he thought. After that he seemed more distracted, conflicted, and work seemed harder.       

“Jesus, Davis, What the hell is wrong with you?” his assistant questioned after a busy lunch shift a few days later. “You barked at the poor waitress for no good reason. You really seem to have your head up your ass these days.”

 “I know,” Davis replied. “Probably just the product of a long hard summer. The season will be over in a week. I’ll take a month off, then come back here, rested and ready for the winter season.”

*                                  *                                  *

Sitting on a beach in Mexico a month later, Davis received a letter from the Ranch management. It was a new two-year contract. It offered more benefits, and a $10,000 raise.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled to himself. “

*                                  *                                 *

By late January as Davis stood and clicked into his ski bindings, he was looking at a whole new scenery.   He was visiting his friend Bill who he’d met on one of his restaurants stops while working,  a few years back. They were going out to set and mark a ski trail for the upcoming Winter Carnival in Willow, Alaska. He was grateful for the distraction. He and Melissa had kept in touch. They spent four wonderful days together in Dallas after Davis had gotten back from Mexico.

 Melissa had decided to enroll in grad school in Dallas, working towards a master’s degree. It was a two-year program. Davis had passed on the fat new contract, leaving the Hotel-Resort “Biz” behind. He’d made the decision to travel north to Alaska to see an old friend and basically have a “look see.” Maybe chart a new course.

The memories of the wild natural beauty of the Rocky Mountain west had taken hold of Davis. But, after only a few weeks in Alaska, Davis felt this was even better. He felt he’d finally come home... He felt he’d arrived at a place that really spoke to his inner soul. Something in him had reset over those two magical days with Melissa. The chance meeting and connection with a beautiful woman whose stable, charted life had gone awry, gave him pause. Melissa had found a way to deal with her life altering circumstances. It sparked something in Davis and made him start to question where his own life was headed. The Hotel-Resort life had its allure. Rubbing elbows with famous people, movie stars, working in exotic locations and big money, all had an upside.

           “None of it was me,” Davis said to Bill, as they skied down the hill onto Willow Lake. “I worked in one of the most beautiful spots in the world, but never saw it.” It seemed I could better relate to a sauté’ pan or prime rib, than the natural beauty of Mother Nature.” 

           Denali, North Americas tallest peak loomed just over 60 miles from where Bill and Davis stood. The low, late afternoon winter sun painted the big mountain, a beautiful pink Alpenglow hue. A pristine, white frozen Willow Lake stretched out in front of them.

           “Hey Bill, you got those trail markers?” Davis yelled over his shoulder, as he led the way across the lake. As Melissa had forged a new path from her broken normal, Davis seemed ready for the same.