Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)

by Gregory Gates

  Susan turned to Chrissie. “Shall we double up?”

  Chrissie nodded. “Fine with me. I’d be happy with the sofa.”

  Abby grinned. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Gabe peaked back into the rear bedroom. “I guess I’ll take this one. Nice.”

  “There’s another terrace in back that both these rooms open onto,” Abby said.

  “Where’s Jeff’s room?” Gabe asked.

  “He gets Mom and Dad’s room, upstairs on the other side of the entry. It’s huge. Funny thing is, there’s a dressing room below the master bedroom that’s nearly as big. I don’t know who designed this place, but they must have been a real clothes hog. Come here, you’re gonna love this.”

  Abby led them back downstairs, across the salon, back into the gallery, and across through a set of double glass doors.

  Jeff froze at the doors. “You’re joking? An indoor pool as well?”

  “Yep. This is the lap pool. On the other end is the Jacuzzi, and behind it is the sauna. Oh, and there’s another bathroom right here.”

  Gabe shook her head. “I’ve never been in a sauna. And I’ve never ridden a horse.”

  Abby glanced at her. “Well, this should be entertaining.”

  “Alright,” Jeff said, “We didn’t think everyone would be much in the mood for cooking tonight, so there’s a very nice resort hotel with a fine restaurant about a mile up the road, and we made reservations. So, why don’t y’all stow your gear and freshen up, and then we’ll go get some supper.”

  #

  Over dinner on the terrace at Hotel Hacienda La Herriza, Gabe asked, “What are these mountains called?”

  “This is the southern end of the Ronda Mountains, the western part of the Sierra Bermeja range,” said Abby.

  “Why are they called the Ronda Mountains?”

  “There’s a town called Ronda about an hour’s drive northeast of here. It was originally settled by the Celts, followed by the Romans and the Moors. It has the oldest bullfighting ring in Spain that’s still in use. And nearby there’s a little place called Acinipo that has a Roman amphitheater built around 45 B.C. that’s also still in use today.”

  “45 B.C.?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Can we go there?”

  “Sure. I didn’t know you were an ancient history buff.”

  “I’m not really, I’ve just never seen anything that old.”

  Jeff held up his glass. “This wine is fantastic.”

  “That’s Rioja. They’ve been making it here for over a thousand years. There’s a bunch of it in the cellar. Enjoy.”

  “Where’s the cellar?”

  “Beneath the kitchen. There’s a stairway in the back of the pantry.”

  #

  Upon returning to the villa, Abby pulled into the garage. As they got out, everyone stood staring at the bright red sports car parked beside them.

  “A Ferrari California?” said Jeff.

  Abby nodded. “Yeah, Mom’s car. Brad gave it to her as a house-warming present.”

  “Brad?” said Gabe.

  “Dad. He’s not really my dad, just Mom’s fourth husband. But he’s the closest thing to a dad I’ve had, so I usually call him that.”

  Jeff peeked inside the Ferrari. “Wow, nice house-warming present.”

  “Yeah. Mom hardly ever drives it. She loves it, but usually lets Dad drive.” Abby chuckled. “Even after three years, she still has trouble with the Formula One paddle shifters, not to mention the torque.”

  “Have you driven it?”

  “Yeah, it’s a gas, particularly on these mountain roads. It’d leave your Aston Martin in the dust.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Inside, Jeff sorted out the hi-fi system and put on some music, Abby found a bottle of vintage port to her liking, and they all sat down in the pavilion to enjoy the Andalusian evening.

  Susan sniffed the night air. “I smell jasmine.”

  Abby nodded. “Yeah, there’s a bunch growing down below the pool. Intoxicating, isn’t it?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  Chrissie leaned back in the sofa, stretching her arms out. “It is so pleasant here. I would have thought it would be hot or cold or… something. But it’s so very nice.”

  “It’s kind of like southern California, boringly pleasant. Gets up into the 80s in the summer and down into the 50s in the winter. But mostly it’s just pleasant.”

  “Pleasant works for me.”

  Gabe tilted her head, listening to the music. “Rodrigo?”

  Jeff nodded. “Yes, Concierto de Aranjuez.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Abby got up, walked around to the pool steps and splashed the water with her hand. “Ah, it’s warm.” She walked back to one of the lounge chairs, undressed and stepped naked into the pool. Gabe stood and glanced over the half-wall of the pavilion. “That woman just has no shame.”

  Jeff watched Abby enter the pool, smiled and sighed, “Honestly, I don’t see where she has much to be ashamed of.”

  Gabe laughed softly. “Point conceded.”

  Between the soft splashes of her strokes, Abby called out, “Ah, this is wonderful.”

  After a minute, Chrissie stood. “Alright, if she can do it, I can do it.” And she trotted over to another lounge chair and began to undress.

  “Now this is getting interesting,” Jeff mused.

  “Chrissie,” Abby called from the pool.

  “Huh?”

  “There are towels in a locker in the shower room next to the bar.”

  “Ah, good idea. Thanks.” She finished stripping, retrieved a couple towels and stepped into the pool.

  Jeff rubbed his forehead. “Mercy.”

  Gabe and Susan stared at one another for a moment, then both shook their heads. “No.”

  Susan scratched her chin. “I think I’d need a few more drinks.”

  Gabe nodded. “A lot more.” She glanced at Jeff. “What about you?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” she grinned.

  “Well, because I’m still the boss and not quite ready for that yet,” he chuckled.

  “When you hired us, you never thought of this, did you?” Susan asked.

  “No, I didn’t. Unintended consequences.”

  “Is it a problem?”

  “Not at all. Like Abby once said, we’re all going to be living in pretty close quarters for a long time, may as well get used to it. Besides, we’re all grown-ups.”

  Gabe stood and leaned over the wall looking at Abby and Chrissie in the pool. “I should get my camera.”

  “If you do, I’ll find the lights. We could post pictures on the website.” He laughed. “Bet that’d boost our hit-count.”

  Gabe sat back down. “Eh, probably not a good idea.”

  “Nah, probably not.”

  “Speaking of websites, do you know if they have Internet here?”

  “Yeah, Abby told me there’s a WiFi system and DSL.”

  “Oh, okay, I was just thinking of email. Vacation or no, with the launch just two and a half months away, there are still some things I need to stay on top of.”

  “Sure, you should be able to just fire up your laptop and you’ll be online, login through the website as usual. If you need AC, you’ll need a voltage converter. There are probably some around here somewhere. Ask Abby.”

  Susan sipped her drink and stared at the villa. “I remember Abby telling me her parents lived in Spain. When I asked her why, she just said they like it. I can see why.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you met her parents?”

  Jeff shook his head. “No, not yet. From what Abby tells me, they’re pretty busy. What with all their books and the movie…”

  “Movie?” said Gabe.

  “Uh huh. Somebody’s making a major motion picture from one of their books, and they’re involved in the screenwriting and executive production.”

  “Wow. What’s it about?�
�

  “It’s some sweeping historical fiction novel about life here in Spain back in the Roman era. I haven’t read it, but it’s something like that. New York Times best seller, so I guess it’s pretty good.”

  “That’s why they’re not here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, how’d this come about?”

  “Abby suggested it a while back. Seemed like a good idea.”

  “By the way,” said Susan, “when do we get to meet your parents?”

  Jeff glanced at the pavilion floor and shook his head. “You don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re dead.”

  She smacked her forehead and grimaced. “Oh god, Jeff, I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.”

  He smiled softly. “No, it’s okay. They died in an automobile accident about eight years ago. Drunk driver ran a red light. He walked away, they didn’t.”

  Gabe began to tear up. “Oh god.”

  Jeff reached over and grabbed her hand. “Now, don’t. It happens. Just one of those things.”

  Susan shook her head. “And then you lost your wife on top of that?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, it was a rough couple years.”

  Chrissie called from the pool, “You guys really should come in. This is great!”

  Susan set her glass down. “Um, yeah. Suddenly, drowning myself sounds like a good idea.” She glanced at the pool, then back at Jeff. “Do not resuscitate.”

  He chuckled. “Stop it. It’s okay.”

  She stood, strolled over to the edge of the moonlit pool, ignored the lounge chairs, unceremoniously dropped her clothes on the deck, and jumped in.

  Jeff got up and looked over the pavilion wall. He glanced around the pool and saw no sign of Susan. “If she’s not up in 60 seconds, I’m going in after her.”

  Gabe got up, stood beside him, and glanced at her watch.

  A moment later Susan surfaced on the other side of the pool.

  Jeff sighed with relief. “Okay, crisis averted.” He wrapped his arm around Gabe’s waist. “What about you? You’re not going in?”

  Gabe bit her lip and drew up the softest of smiles, an expression that said… something, something Jeff had not seen in her before. Then she barely whispered, “No. Not yet.”

  Deep inside Jeff suddenly felt the faintest hint of an emotion he had not had in many years. He nodded and returned her smile. This was something he definitely hadn’t counted on.

  Saturday, September 21, 2013 (T minus 914 days)

  It was eleven o’clock on a late-summer morning in the Gibralmedina Valley. The sky was clear, the temperature around 70ºF, a light breeze out of the southwest and Gabe stood petrified, staring at the horse. “She’s not going to bite me, is she?”

  Jeff smiled and shook his head. “No Gabe, she’s not going to bite you. This is a horse, they’re not carnivorous. Now, just put your left foot in the stirrup, grab hold of the horn, hop up and swing your leg over. Nothing to it.”

  Abby, already astride her horse, groaned from nearby, “And while we’re still young would be good.”

  The gray mare turned her head and stared at Gabe. Gabe took a step back. “I don’t think she likes me.”

  Jeff held the mare’s reins. “I think she’s just bored. Come on Gabe, climb on. She’s an old mare, very docile, picked out just for you.”

  Gabe gingerly walked up to the horse, put her hand on the saddle horn and glanced nervously at Jeff. “I’m a physicist, not a cowboy.”

  Jeff grumbled, “Oh lord, just get on.”

  Gabe gritted her teeth, put her foot in the stirrup and hopped up, about halfway, returning to the ground with a thud. “Oops.”

  Jeff stepped over right behind her. “Shall we try again. Maybe a bit more hop?”

  “Right,” Gabe sighed.

  She hopped again. As she did, Jeff put his hand on her butt and pushed hard. Gabe squealed and threw her leg over the mare’s rump, landing square in the saddle with a plop, and an “Ummph.”

  “Excellent.” Jeff smiled, handed her the reins and quickly mounted his ride. “Muchas gracias, Señor Hidalgo. Volveremos antes de noche.”

  The old rancher smiled and waved. “De nada, Señor Grey.”

  Jeff turned to his motley band, “Let’s ride,” and headed west across the meadow.

  “Where are we going?” said Susan.

  Abby pointed west. “Over those hills and down into a valley on the other side.”

  “What’s there?”

  “The Rio Guadiaro.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A river.”

  Abby led them south along the foothills on an old dirt road, through groves of cork, pine and wild olives.

  “How you doing, Gabe?” said Jeff.

  “I haven’t fallen off yet.”

  “Well, that’s usually a good sign.”

  “What kind of horses are these?”

  Abby twisted in the saddle and glanced back. “Andalusians. Señor Hidalgo’s family has been breeding them for centuries, and these are some of the finest in all of Spain.”

  “They’re pretty.”

  “They’re magnificent,” said Jeff.

  Abby grinned. “Jeff, I’ve ridden that stallion you’re on. You’ll want to be careful not to kick him too hard. You do and you’ll be in for Mr. Toad’s wild ride. His name is Relámpago.”

  “What’s that mean?” said Gabe.

  Jeff grimaced. “Lightening.” He leaned forward and patted Relámpago on the neck. “Calm, calm.”

  After an hour’s ride over the foothills and winding down into the valley, they came to a glade of oak, cottonwood, rhododendrons, ferns and rosemary just above a rocky passage of the Guadiaro, where the river cascaded through a terrace of pools. In the depth of the valley the air was calm, the temperature warming and, except for the melodic babbling of the water, deathly quiet.

  Abby reined up. “We’re here.”

  Chrissie rode up beside her. “Wow, this is gorgeous. How’d you know about this?”

  “Señor Hidalgo told my folks about it, and the three of us rode here once.”

  Susan gazed around. “It doesn’t look like it’s been disturbed since the dawn of time. It’s beautiful.”

  “The road between El Colmenar and San Pablo de Buceite is half a mile or so up the hill on the opposite side and there’s a ranch house about two miles downstream but, other than that, it’s all ours. So, tie your trusty steeds to a cottonwood and let’s break out the picnic. I don’t know about you but I could use a drink. Who’s got the wine jug?”

  “Marvelous idea,” said Jeff. “Right here.”

  After a little exploring, they settled on an opening just above the river, spread out a couple sheets and sat down to a luncheon of tapas they’d picked up in Gaucin the day before: banderillas and stuffed mussels, carne mechada and calamari, chorizo al vino, battered prawns, and a large bowl of fresh fruit.

  After a time, Abby fell back and lay staring at the sky. “I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite.”

  Susan dropped a half-eaten piece of calamari on her plate. “I keep this up and I’m going to need a bigger space suit.”

  Jeff smiled. “Beats the hell out of Senate subcommittee hearings, doesn’t it?”

  Gabe nodded and stared at the river. “Crew launch isn’t for nearly three years. Can’t we just, you know, stay here?”

  Jeff grinned and shook his head. “I think Abby’s folks would want their house back at some point. Besides, I fear we still have a little work to do.”

  Abby groaned, “A little, he says. I don’t want to even think about it.”

  “Then don’t. We’re on vacation, make the most of it.”

  “Alright, if you say so.” She slowly pushed herself up with a groan, walked down to the river, shed her clothes on a large flat rock and waded into the pool.

  Jeff leaned back to his pack and pulled out a camera. “For once, I’m ready. Hey, Abby!” he shouted. She twisted back toward him and,
just as he caught her eyes, Jeff snapped the shutter.

  Abby wagged her finger at him. “You know what I’m going to do to you if that shows up on the Internet.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay.” Jeff grinned, and took another picture.

  Abby settled into the shallow pool, swam to the falls at the other end and sat beneath the cascading water.

  Susan shook her head. “She certainly is a free spirit.”

  Jeff nodded. “Yes she is.”

  Chrissie frowned. “We didn’t bring any towels. I want to see what she does next.”

  “Play Lady Godiva and ride back naked, air drying?” Susan mused.

  Jeff grinned. “Wouldn’t surprise me a bit.”

  While Abby played water nymph, the rest of them sat or lay quietly in the shade, enjoying the Andalusian afternoon. After a while, Abby climbed out of the river onto the rock where she’d left her clothes and stretched out on her back in the sun.

  “Well, Chrissie,” Jeff said, glancing down at Abby, “there’s your answer. Hey, Abby! Three o’clock. Key Hole satellite pass any minute now.”

  Abby waved him off. “The last Key Hole came down forty years ago.”

  Jeff frowned. “How did she know that?”

  Gabe wrinkled her nose. “How did you know it?”

  “I dunno. Read it in a book somewhere.”

  Gabe grinned. “She probably read the same book.”

  Sunday, September 22, 2013 (T minus 913 days)

  Jeff turned the pork scallops in the frying pan and poured in a little white wine. “These’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “They smell wonderful. Hey, does this get TV?” Chrissie said, staring at the LCD screen hanging on the kitchen wall.

  “I think so. There’s a remote over there.”

  “Is it in English?”

  Jeff laughed. “Beats me.”

  Chrissie turned it on and scrolled through the channel menu. “It’s about ten-thirty on the East Coast and, with the subcommittee hearing last week, I was just curious to see if there’s any mention of us on the Sunday morning talk shows.”