Cougar Seeks Toyboy

By Andrew Parkinson

“Ha!” said Hiro, with the clear, uncomplicated laugh of youth. “Here’s a summer job for you in the Personal Services section:” 

COUGAR SEEKS TOYBOY for a summer of mutual admiration and reward. You are a broad-minded young man with a definite sense of style. I am a confident, accomplished woman who makes things happen! Reply mailbox 171. 

He set down the paper. “I dare you!” Cameron grinned, then winced. He knew his friend teased in a good-natured way, but in his search for a summer job Cameron had found no luck. He was less motivated, with money left over from winter ski instruction and spring modelling. They had to clear the dorm soon, but Cameron had no more appealing plan than to retreat to his parents’ home in Port Coquitlam, where they would insist he take summer courses to help zero in on a major. The teasing smarted because Hiro would soon leave for a dream job at a luxury resort. “Finally,” said Hiro, “you’ll get the admiration you deserve!”

Hiro handed the student newspaper to his roommate. He sank back into the tattered sofa and chugged a glass of milk spiked with a shot of half-and-half. His t-shirt, worn thin by many cycles through the laundry, had “Natural Intelligence” on the chest. His facial features were beginning to take on a sharpness that hinted at ambition, but his limbs still had the doughy quality of childhood.

Still smiling, and still smarting inside, Cameron looked at the paper. There were invitations of all kinds in the end-of-term edition: announcements of summer employment fairs that had already taken place, instructions for signing up for summer courses, and travel opportunities for the well-to-do. Cameron said, “What do you think she wants, exactly?”

“Who knows! I guess she who provides the ‘rewards’ is in charge! It’s probably just for a one-matinee stand, anyway. Don’t get your, um, hopes up…”

“I don’t know, Hiro. The ad is in the summer employment listings, not the personals. If she really is a ‘mature’ woman, maybe she has modest expectations… What exactly is a ‘toyboy’ anyway? Maybe it’s not so bad… it sounds decorative.”

Hiro looked it up on his phone. “A much younger man in a relationship with an older woman.”

“Yeah, well if she’s older, then she probably does not have in mind what your adolescent brain does.” Not for the first time, Cameron felt ambivalent: curious about a relationship but guarded about his inexperience.

“I’ll bet she’s over thirty, Cameron! But you’re probably right, she might just like to have a good long look at you. You wouldn’t mind that, I’m sure. You’re gonna give it a shot, aren’t you?” The idea clearly captivated Hiro.

Cameron blushed. “Maybe you should do it.”

“Too bad. I’m sure there’s a good story there, at least. Hey, I’m headed to work out. Last day before it closes. Coming along?” Hiro stood and gathered a few things. As he tied his sneakers, he caught a fusty whiff, and thought he had better buy new ones before leaving for the summer.

“I’ll catch up to you.” Cameron felt unmotivated about working out, dwelling on the ad Hiro had found. Of course, the whole idea was beneath him – wasn’t it? But he wondered what she was after. It said ‘admiration’. With his soft curls of dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and cleft chin – not to mention a little upper-body development – he enjoyed some admiration from time to time. And this came with ‘rewards’…

– – – – –

“Well! You must be Cameron.” The elegant woman approached him in the empty coffee shop, extending a confident hand. She could see that he was at a loss for words. “I am Olivia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She gave him a warm smile, to put him at his ease.

“Nice to meet you too,” he said. His first thought was: she is old. Wrinkles around the eyes. Some grey in her hair. But his second thought was, she looked self-assured and business-like. Nicely dressed. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he admitted, dropping his gaze. “This is new for me.” He was not beneath playing for sympathy.

“You’ll be fine. Just fine. What a handsome young man you are! What’s your beverage?”

“Um, mocha, please.” He thought it would complete his look, given the white turtleneck he wore. She had said ‘sense of style’ in the ad, but the only stylish things Cameron had were leftovers from a modelling photoshoot with a ski apparel company. It was 26^oC outside.

He felt her gaze play over his youthful features and then descend briefly. She turned to the counter and placed the order. They took a booth. “Thank you very much for responding to my ad! I have to say, your generation lacks an adventurous spirit. I expected more action from that ad. But I only need one toyboy!”

He wished she would keep her voice down but was too self-conscious to ask. “You’re welcome. Um, maybe you can give me more of an idea about what you have in mind?”

“Of course. So… together with some like-minded friends, on an island up the coast from us here in Vancouver, I bought a big, rambling vacation house on the water. We go there over the summer as a break from the city, to enjoy a less complicated life. There are four of us… all accomplished, dynamic women, and, well… unattached.”

“I see.” He sipped his mocha, and thought it needed sugar. He felt a salty drop of sweat trickle down the small of his back and disappear into the waistband of his underwear.

“We like to have some male company to liven up the summer. Someone to help, too. Nothing formal, just the odd job here or there. Painting a shed. Digging a garden. That sort of thing. You would be perfect. So nice to look at. Do they still use the phrase ‘eye-candy’?” He noticed Olivia’s eyes glittered as she spoke. “Anyway, you’d be on the receiving end of plenty of admiration.”

Cameron tried in vain to control his blushing. He was too hot in his turtleneck, but did not have a t-shirt underneath, so it had to stay where it was. Why hadn’t he ordered iced coffee? “What sort of terms are you thinking about?” 

“Well, Cameron… it’s not a job as such. I’d like to invite you to be my guest for the summer. As a young man possessed of boundless raw energy, we wouldn’t be surprised if you involved yourself in some useful projects around the house. And as accomplished women of means, you shouldn’t be surprised if we made you an informal gift from our resources in recognition of your stage of life and your enthusiastic company. Do I make myself clear?”

“I think so… It’s not a job with a contract or anything. It’s a place to hang out over the summer, contribute my youthful energy, and enjoy the attention… Is that right?” Cameron had to admit, the prospect was intriguing.

“Yes, that’s right. I think you will go far, young man.”

“Ha. Um… your ad said ‘cougar’ and ‘toyboy’. Just how far does that ‘attention’ go?” Cameron was aware his voice grew soft and tremulous as he struggled to ask the key question.

Olivia laughed. “Don’t worry your pretty head. I’ve long ago given up trying to predict how human relationships will pan out. We are civilized women. Oh, that reminds me, I need to have a quick look at your driver’s license, please.”

“What? Oh… here.”

She glanced at it. “Oh, to be nineteen again!” She winked at him and slid the license back to Cameron on the other side of the booth.

“Um, where is the island?” 

“It’s called Cortes Island. You reach it by water taxi from Campbell River. The house is on Gorge Harbour, near Whaletown. I came prepared to defray your travel expenses, and some additional resources to help with any clothes or whatnot you might need to bring.” She slid an envelope across the table. Cameron peeked in the envelope and saw $500 in red $50 bills. There was a slip of paper with travel instructions and phone numbers for Olivia, for the house, and for the water taxi. “What do you say, Cameron? Are you feeling a sense of adventure?”

He thought briefly. Summer in island breezes certainly beat the prospect of wading through a buggy bog of classes. “I’ll do it!”

“Oh, that’s good, Cameron. Really good. My friends will so enjoy meeting you. I think your classes are over. Tomorrow I’m headed to Cortes Island. Maybe see you there early next week?”

“Okay!” He rose to leave. Feeling faint, Cameron had to go outside. He left behind the steaming mocha, almost untouched.

– – – – –

It was a quick matter for Cameron to organize himself. By this time, Hiro had left for his resort. Cameron did several rounds of laundry. Most of his clothing and books went into storage provided by the university. After buying a second pair of shorts, new swimming trunks, and new sneakers, he packed his supplies in a duffel bag. He took his yoga mat, phone and charger, and a few novels. The only ticklish part was explaining his plans to his mother.

From Vancouver the 257 Express bus delivered Cameron to the ferry terminal in Horseshoe Bay. He bought a one-way walk-on ticket to Nanaimo. The crossing was a delight, with a humpback whale sighted to starboard. He spent the time on deck, relishing the gusty wind. He liked how it tugged and tousled his hair, and how he looked when he caught a glimpse of himself in a dark window. After a short wait, he rode the Island Link bus north to Campbell River. Finally, the water taxi from the harbour delivered him to Cortes Island. 

He was glad to walk the last distance along the quiet road to the house. Cameron felt at home under the tall trees. He focused on the familiar ones, to counter a mild sense of panic about what he had plunged into. He reasoned he ultimately had control of the situation, because he could always reverse his trip back to Vancouver. He just needed to keep safe enough money to enable a quick getaway.

He rounded a bend and saw the group of buildings that was his destination. A sign proclaimed it ‘Harbour House’. There was a rambling two-storey main building with a wrap-around porch. Adjacent was a low side building with a few patios. A stream split the property in two. There was a greenhouse, and a hot tub under a gazebo. A split-rail fence enclosed the yard. The verdant lawn within ran down to a rock and shingle beach. There was a wooden pier with a floating dock at the far end.

He felt proud of his nerve, took a deep breath, swung the gate open, and climbed the front steps. He startled two women in conversation on a porch-swing. “Hi… I’m Cameron. Olivia, um, Olivia arranged for me to come here… as a guest.”

This lit a warm fire in the two, who sprang from their seats. “Ah, Cameron, welcome! I’m Chloe,” said an athletic-looking woman in her 40’s, wearing yoga pants. “You’ll do nicely!” She had a smile made sharp by her cheekbones. “And this is Sophia.” She motioned to her friend, a slightly older woman with a noble bearing, wrapped in a grey silk shawl against the evening chill.

“Welcome to paradise,” said Sophia warmly, with a trace of a clipped accent. “I think you are just in time for dinner, Cameron. Here, let us take your things. Come inside with us.”

They entered the house, and the beauty of the wood interior made an impression on Cameron. There was a spacious living room, decorated in tired hunting-lodge furniture. The dining room overlooked Gorge Harbour. The door was open to the kitchen. Cameron saw Olivia in conversation with a fourth woman, who was at the stove stirring a pot. They led Cameron into the kitchen. 

“Ah, here is the young man himself!” Olivia embraced him lightly. “I was hoping you would make it today. A good journey, I hope?”

“It was very nice. We saw humpbacks from the ferry.”

“Wonderful. I see you’ve met Chloe and Sophia. Here is our fourth friend Juliette, who is la chef de ce soir.”

Juliette had copious black hair streaked with grey strands, gathered in a ponytail, and a wiry frame. She wiped her hand on a dish cloth and shook Cameron’s. “Pleased to meet you, Cameron. Olivia was just telling me about how you met.”

Chloe said, “Olivia has told us all about you, Cameron, right down to the dimple on your chin. You must have many admirers!” Cameron was horrified. Sophia led him to the washroom. He left behind a whispered conversation in the kitchen. He splashed cold water over his face and regarded himself in the mirror. What an unreal situation, he thought. Are they all cougars? Whose ‘toyboy’ am I meant to be? Again, he felt proud of his nerve.

Juliette had a trace of an accent, too, as she announced dinner: a fish chowder with homemade sourdough and a salad of roasted vegetables. They took their places at the table, and Sophia poured a glass of wine for Cameron – as she knew him to be nineteen – then for herself. He tried to push through the cobweb of self-doubt, and said, “You have a beautiful place here. I can see why it’s a nice break from the city. So quiet.”

Chloe said, “Yes, I found it on a sailing trip. I live in Seattle, which is a few days’ sail away. This place is nicely secluded, so don’t feel bashful about taking your shirt off – Ha!”

Olivia said, “Chloe! Anyway, we pitched in and bought the place a few years ago. We did some renovation, but it was in good shape. It used to be an inn.”

Cameron asked, “Have you had someone like me staying here before?”

There was a moment of silence around the table. Sophia answered. “Yes. Each year we have someone different, so far. It was my turn to find a young man last year. I brought a cadet from the National Merchant Marine Academy in Hydra, in my native Greece.”

Juliette said, “He was a dream. He did his best to soak up our subarctic sunshine.” She had a faraway look in her eyes as she sipped her wine.

“I see,” said Cameron, indulging a larger swallow of his wine. “Did he do any projects while he was here?”

“Yes,” said Sophia. “He whitewashed the pier and the boathouse. He added the floating dock at the end of the pier. All kinds of things.”

“But he’s not returning this summer?”

“Oh no. Instead, he found a girlfriend he wants to marry. Silly boy!” Sophia seemed disappointed. 

Chloe said, “Sophia is down on the institution of marriage. Her beloved George died in flagrante delicto in the arms of a movie starlet!”

Sophia said darkly, “Yes… I hope death came before he did.”

“So, that’s when it became my turn to find the next guest,” said Olivia.

Chloe continued. “And Juliette’s husband Philippe left her for his physical therapist after a car accident. And Olivia’s husband begged her for a divorce, to evade his own justifiable homicide!” 

Olivia cut her off. “Chloe! You really go too far. Go easy on the boy. Anyway, Chloe, we three can look fondly on this house, knowing that contributions from those various settlements and legacies helped make it possible. But not you, poor Chloe… never married. You should try it: it can be lucrative!” They all laughed. 

Cameron said, “Um, the food is delicious. May I have some more bread?” He was enjoying the dinner, but was unaccustomed to the wine, which made him feel warm and a little slow. He saw Sophia refill his glass as he reached for the bread.

Over dessert, Olivia mentioned he would be staying in a small suite of his own. “In the morning, we have Dr Willits coming by at 8:00 am. Hope that’s not too early for you?”

“A doctor? But I am in perfect health…”

“Rude health, I would say, dear boy. But it’s good protection for us as your hosts to have a checkup at the start of your summer.”

“Okay, I suppose it can’t hurt. Juliette, the bread pudding is wonderfully rich.”

“My brothers who are in the Gaspé Peninsula do the maple syrup. Reminds me of home.”

They put Cameron in a room at the rear of the low building. After quietly locking the door, he slept heavily.

– – – – –

After a clean checkup that included some rather personal questions, in the warm lazy days that followed, Cameron adapted to a satisfying routine. He would begin early, indulging in his power yoga on the floating dock. At the start, a puzzled great blue heron would watch him from the shingle beach. Perhaps a kingfisher or a marbled murrelet would fish for breakfast nearby. By the time he finished – dripping with perspiration – he had an audience of coffee-savouring women of a certain age ogling from the porch. Next, he would dive off the dock, and swim in the icy water to round a distant buoy, detouring to avoid a kelp bed on the way. Then he would climb onto the dock, wrapping a plush towel around his shivery shoulders, and join the women for breakfast after changing. 

His first project was to dig the vegetable garden. It was only a few minutes before he realized what hot work that was. He followed Chloe’s suggestion that Juliette would really prefer Cameron to remove his t-shirt. Juliette found some weeding to do nearby, to help.

A big project involved repair of the split-rail fence surrounding the perimeter. A tree had fallen last winter, taking down a corner section of the fence. Cameron cut up the remnants of the tree, stacked the wood, and put back the sections of the fence. Digging new holes for the fenceposts was especially gruelling and drew admiring glances from the four – who came to bring him lemonade, or an oatcake. Juliette brought him a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.

He accepted their interest in having someone like him there. It was a harmless situation after all. As the summer waned, Cameron grew relaxed enough about his living situation that he stopped locking his door at night. One warm evening, immersed in The Gentlemen’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee, Cameron heard a soft knock. The door opened, to reveal Juliette leaning into the room, with a bottle of white wine and two glasses in her hands.

“Juliette!” Cameron instinctively sat up in bed and covered himself with a pillow, as he had been reading shirtless. 

“Oh, there you are, Cameron. I have been searching all over! You worked so hard today. And did your yoga and swimming. And it’s so warm. I thought you might like something cool and refreshing.” She held aloft the bottle, wet with condensation.

“Sure, I mean yes, please come in.” He pulled on a white t-shirt, imprinted with the epigram ‘Hot to trot’ in curlicue script. They sat at the little table, and Juliette poured.

She looked around. “Ah, the boy-cave… Cozy place to spend the summer, but a bit lonely, no?”

“It’s good. And it’s good I have my introvert side.”

“Ah, me too.” As her hungry eyes took in the detail, she spotted the yoga mat. “I wish I knew how to do yoga. Maybe you could teach me…?”

“Sure, I mean, I’m not a yoga instructor. But I like going to classes.” He grinned. “It’s usually just me and 20 girls.” 

“You must have many admirers there!” They sipped their wine. It was an unoaked chardonnay from Osoyoos. “I almost forgot these…” Juliette withdrew from a pocket in her black silk robe a small tin of oyster crackers. “Tell me some more about yourself, Cameron. Tell me who you are.” Her voice modulated from resonant to husky.

“Gee, not much to tell. I live on campus, in a dorm. I don’t yet have a major, which is a sore point with my parents. I work out. I do my yoga. I grew up in Port Coquitlam… What about you, Juliette?”

“Well, as you hear from my voice I am from Québec – Montréal to be exact. My parents were immigrants from Vietnam in the 1960s. I live now in Victoria, where I own an art gallery. I am a passionate woman, who appreciates all that life has to offer. Good food, fine wine, a lithe physique matched to a dimpled chin and curly hair…”

Cameron could feel his pulse quicken, and his face redden. He was inexperienced in this game of adults. She said, “I am sorry, I have flustered you by expressing myself, dear Cameron. But I must say it: Olivia has exceeded herself in selecting you, and you have brought us immense joy here in Gorge Harbour.”

“Kind of you to say. Um…” Cameron could hear someone outside the room walking on the creaky floorboards. He thought briefly of calling for help. He also thought about the speedboat on the floating dock, just 150 feet away. But decided no, he could handle this. Meanwhile Juliette downed a second glass.

On impulse, she rose from the table, and walked to Cameron’s bedside table to pick up the book he was reading. “Is this one good?” Her eyes lingered over the unmade bed, rumpled sheets bunched and knotted from nights of heavy slumber. She sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her slippers.

“Yes, it’s a fun book. Not something I would typically read, I guess, but a friend recommended it.” She yawned and lay her head on Cameron’s pillow.

“I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute, Cameron…” Within that minute, she began to snore softly. He removed a used sock that lay close to her nose and exited quietly.

– – – – –

After sleeping on a sofa in a common area, Cameron woke early. When he returned to his room, he found Juliette was gone. On his pillow was a note from her, “I am so sorry…” Grateful for the peace, he took up his normal morning routine.

As he climbed onto the floating dock after swimming, Chloe was there to hand him his towel. “I heard the pitter-patter of little feet last night, Cameron. Did you indulge in some naughtiness?” She clearly enjoyed putting him on the spot.

“I, uh…”

“Well, that’s okay! We’ve all been wondering when the other shoe would drop. Only you should exercise better judgement – admittedly a rare commodity in a nineteen-year-old boy – and have a fling with someone who has the spirit to match you: me!”

“Oh, ah, thank you. I…”

“Why don’t we go for a sail this afternoon? There’s a little two-person sailing dinghy in the boathouse that we could take out on the Harbour.”

“Uh, that would be great! Thank you.”

“After lunch, then.” She went up the wooden ladder to the pier and back to the house.

– – – – –

A fresh breeze rose on the Harbour while they had lunch. Afterward, Cameron and Chloe carried the dinghy to the water. She rigged the two small sails and boarded in the chilly shallows of the shingle beach, pushing out into the harbour. Once the water was deep enough, Chloe slid the centreboard home, into the slot in the hull. As the wind filled the sails, Cameron felt the quick acceleration.

After clearing the kelp bed, they tacked back and forth upwind, toward the resort at the western end of the Harbour, toward Whaletown. Cameron had walked there before, hoping for some youthful company; but they were all working to fill restaurant orders, or cleaning up. The wind picked up, and Cameron found that coming about was increasingly jarring. While the sails were popping to the other side, they scrambled under the boom to balance the load by sitting on the hull to windward. The cockpit was small, and Cameron noticed Chloe always seemed to end up with her hip and leg brushing against his. At one point, while they rolled in a gust, as he laughed with delight, she kissed him on the mouth. They ran downwind, wing-and-wing back to Harbour House. It was an exhilarating ride. The spray had soaked him, now covered in goosebumps.

– – – – –

The season was ending. To Cameron, it felt like it had been a long, slow summer. A good one. He’d gained half an inch in height. His grip was certainly stronger. He’d read three books – a record for him under voluntary conditions. 

It had been Sophia’s turn in the kitchen when they sat down to dinner that evening. They had Greek salad and lamb keftedes, followed by roasted halibut in lemon sauce, with peas from the garden. Cameron knew he was going to miss these dinners when he returned to dorm living. 

Olivia said, after pouring a glass of a good pinot gris, that this was a special occasion. “Cameron, we’re all a little heavy-hearted because summer is ending. You must go back to school, and the four of us, back to work. Let’s have a toast to this wonderful summer.” They raised their glasses and sipped. “When we first met in that sweltering café, I mentioned to you that we might expect to benefit from your youthful energy around Harbour House – and we certainly have.” There were murmurs of approval from the other three. “I also said that you should expect to benefit from our resources. We hope that this gift will be useful to you. Don’t lose it: there’s a wad of cash in this envelope, which we think should see you through the year.” She slid it across the table to him. They had sealed the envelope, and he thought it impolite to open it now. “I think the women of Harbour House would like to toast you now, Cameron.” They all rose with broad grins, held their glasses high, and drank to his health. Their warm wishes moved Cameron. With a hand on his shoulder, Olivia whispered, “Don’t worry, we won’t ask you for a speech.”

Chloe had an announcement, too. “My friend Bill was in touch with me. He’s sailing back to Seattle, with a stop in Vancouver on the way. He asked me if I’m ready to head south, but I am staying another week. I hope you don’t mind, Cameron, I asked on your behalf whether you could go as a passenger.”

“Wow! All the way to Vancouver! How far is that?”

“About 100 nautical miles. Bill is a bit of a nut, so he will likely do it all in one go. He’ll be departing tomorrow from the little marina on Gorge Harbour at 7:00 am. If you are interested…”

“Tomorrow! That’s sooner than I expected. But what an opportunity. I’ll take it!”

– – – – –

After dinner, Cameron took one last stroll on Whaletown Road, and walked a favourite path along the water. He thought about his time at Harbour House, and that his initial suspicion when he read the ad in the student paper was right. There were no real expectations of him as a toyboy. He was surprised by his own broad mindedness when he thought that was unfortunate, in a way. When he headed back to the house, he heard Olivia call to him from the hot tub. “Oh Cameron… we’re over here! Come join us!”

He walked over in the fading light. There they were, all four. It was a red cedar tub set in a gravel pit, under a gazebo to keep it useful in rain. 

“Come on in,” Olivia encouraged him. He smiled and took off his t-shirt and kicked off his sneakers. “It’s a special evening for us, so it’s clothing optional.” They all looked at him to see his reaction. 

Chloe said, “Actually, it’s clothing forbidden.” She grinned, and slowly rose. The others joined her. It was true, they were all nude. Cameron caught his breath. There was a silence that lasted three heartbeats, after which he slipped out of his shorts and stepped into the tub.

So many arms. So many legs. Such curious hands under the water. Such carefree laughter. It was quite the moment of naughtiness for Cameron. One he would always treasure. But soon, Olivia called time. Cameron followed a dignified Sophia, who walked naked across the stiff cut grass to the pier and plunged into the icy harbour from the floating dock. It was the perfect ending.

– – – – –

The next morning found Cameron lazing on the foredeck of Bill’s sailboat, stretched out under the big saffron-coloured gennaker sail. The breaking bow wave rushing ceaselessly beneath, they flew south down the Malaspina Strait. As he contemplated his unusual summer, Cameron was conscious that in addition to the envelope of cash stashed in his duffel bag, he carried what he thought of as a private token, spent only once in life. He was both glad it was still his, but also had a twinge of regret he had not spent it on Cortes Island, with an experienced teacher. Maybe next year.

Cameron’s phone came to life as they neared Vancouver. Hiro had texted, “Hope your summer was ok. They had me deep-frying things for tourists who didn’t need it. See you soon!” As Cameron dozed amid the seafoam and the sunshine, he wondered just what he would say about his summer to Hiro.

BIO:

BIO:

Andrew Parkinson lives and writes fiction in Vancouver, Canada. His recent work has appeared in DarkWinter Literary Magazine, Porch Literary Magazine, and a ‘long short story’ in The Write Launch. Forthcoming writing will appear in Queen’s Quarterly and Gaslamp Pulp.