“Cindy! Cut it out.” Val gives her the evil eye. “You’re shut off,” she announces, pulling the martini away from her. “No more, you need to sober up.”
“You’re no fun. You’re so vanilla,” Cindy mocks while reaching for her drink. “Once again, it’s good old vanilla Val to the rescue.”
“Yeah, well, how many times have I saved your butt from bad situations?”
I gaze at Val and then at Cindy. Clearly, I have chosen the right one. Val is a good girl, the type who rescues her friends in times of need. She has her head on straight. She has morals.
“Too freaking many,” Val hints when Cindy fails to reply.
“Where's your sense of adventure?” Cindy smirks, rolling her eyes.
The waiter returns with our dessert, and the ladies quiet down the second they dig into the cake, eating it like there’s no tomorrow.
We arrive back at the condo, and Val helps a woozy Cindy to bed. It reminds me of my earlier days, of the hard partying nights when I’d stumble home from the local bar three sheets to the wind. My life was different back then; I didn’t have a care in the world. I didn’t know then what I know now. I hadn’t a clue.
It would be easy to close my eyes and pretend all is well and nothing is wrong, but it's too late to turn back now. The seed has been planted, and I must complete the task.
Tonight’s little episode confirms my choice. Val is the one. The light that shines within and surrounds her is precisely what I need. There’s too much darkness in my life.
Val is the light, my shining light. She will be the one to protect me from the shadows.
17
Valerie
That night there was nothing but fog. Thick, heavy fog whirled in front of the dim headlights as we wound up the mountain. We couldn't see two feet ahead of us.
As the old pickup truck chugged along the road, the springs of the worn leather seats squeaked with each turn. I reached out for David's hand, lacing my fingers through his as he squeezed them, comforting me while sensing my fear.
When we arrived in Costa Rica, David had arranged for his friend to pick us up at the airport. Slim, a tall, lanky man was waiting for us under an exit sign. Dressed in a checkered shirt and dirty wranglers, he tipped his cowboy hat from his ponytailed white hair and greeted me. David introduced us, telling me Slim was a local farmer-turned-friend who owned a pineapple farm two hours from town. He also ran a nearby ecolodge and had offered David one of the casitas for us to stay at.
When I shook Slim’s hand, he had an odd look on his face. He seemed taken aback to see David with someone. I sensed he might have expected David to be alone. I wondered if David forgot to tell him I would be accompanying him or moving with him to Costa Rica.
It took less than a month for David and me to pack up the condo and ship his belongings. Our relationship moved at a lightning-fast speed with no time for second thoughts. It was challenging to keep up with him at times. I had no idea where he got all of his energy from. He was always on the go—always out and about, keeping busy with work and friends.
Even though I was alone most of the time at the condo, I didn't get much writing done. Whatever items we didn't sell or giveaway, he put me in charge of packing and coordinating shipment. I ended up packing most of my things in my Jeep, and Cindy drove it back to Vegas. She thought my belongings would be safer with her, at the house, in the event I ever needed to return to the states.
David kept saying I wouldn't want to return once we arrived in Central America and established our life together. He said there were important things he needed to share but could only tell me once we arrived in Costa Rica. He looked deep into my eyes and asked me to trust him completely. He promised me he had my best interest at heart. Because of the strong bond, that is, the special connection I felt with him, I decided to trust him. I had fallen in love.
“How much farther do we have to go?” I asked. Taking deep breaths, I tried soothing the uneasiness in my stomach.
“We’re almost there,” David replied, staring out the window.
David and Slim made small talk during the ride, discussing local farms and different kinds of fruits and plants Slim wanted to grow. David seemed genuinely interested and talked about starting his own mini-farm.
Two hours later, we had finally reached our destination. As the truck climbed a long dirt driveway, it came to a stop in front of a row of casitas with colorful lights shining from them.
When I exited the truck, the first thing I noticed was the remoteness of the area. Tall, dense trees with huge, oversized leaves covered the property, concealing it from any houses nearby. From what I could see, it didn’t appear like the manicured gardens of the bed-and-breakfast we had occupied months before—a stark contrast. We were deep in the overgrown jungle in the middle of nowhere. The only familiar sound was the continuous buzzing of the night insects.
Slim unlocked the door to one of the casitas and stepped inside, placing the key on a small tree stump table. I followed David, noticing the tiny living area with two rattan chairs.
“I filled the fridge with the basics to cover you for a few days,” Slim said. “Ring me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, my friend. I appreciate the hospitality.” David smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
Slim leaned in close to David, whispering something under his breath. The
