“No,” shaking my head, I chuckle to myself. “It just needs a little more work. It's not quite finished yet.”
“How come you didn’t tell me about it?”
“I told you I had planned on moving here one day.”
“Yeah, I know… but this house… you never mentioned you already had a house here.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Slipping the keys from my pocket, I first unlock the steel security door and then proceed to open the hand-carved wood door. From the corner of my eye, I see Val gazing up at the windows.
“What's with all the bars?” she asks. “It looks like a jail cell.”
“Everyone down here has bars on their windows for protection.”
“So much for safety,” she sucks her teeth. “You told me I'd be safe here with you.”
“And you will. I'll make sure of it. We’ll be much safer here than we were in LA.”
As I step inside, Val follows close behind, creeping her way into the main living area. She stops in the middle of the room and stands there gazing all around.
“It looks much bigger from the outside,” she says, her voice bouncing off the concrete wall.
“I don't need a lot of space.” Walking away, I step over the threshold. “Come over here and check out the master suite.”
Poking her head inside, she glances at the spartan furnishings. A mattress sits atop a teak wood frame, and a matching teak armoire stands against the wall.
“It’s a tiny bedroom but at least it's half furnished.”
“Correction, fully furnished. Less is more in my book.”
Turning around, she steps into the bathroom.
“I’m guessing blue is your favorite color,” she remarks, running her fingers over the tiled countertop.
“The secret is out.” I smile.
“It’s a lot of blue for one room. I personally would have broken up the color scheme, maybe a more neutral color along the walls.”
“I’ll admit that I don't have the best eye when it comes to interior design. Building things is my forte. I’m hoping you can help me decorate the place.”
“Sure,” she murmurs as she walks back to the main room. “I guess it does have potential.”
Making my way over to the side and rear walls, I pull back the striped curtains to expose five sliding glass doors, or as I like to call them, my floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Now, for the best part of the house, the magnificent view.”
“View? Of what, the trees?” A trace of confusion crosses her face. “There's nothing but trees.”
“Wait until you see my neighbors,” I motion for her to come closer.
She ambles toward me and stands gazing out the middle door.
“Neighbors? There’s not another house in sight.” Peering through the glass, she squints and turns her head. She looks to the left and then to the right.
Unlocking one of the doors, we step out onto an expansive wood deck.
“Hold my hand,” I say, reaching out for hers. “I still need to install railings out here.”
Two minutes later, the screeching begins. A bright green parrot flies by, flits through the trees and lands on one of the branches. Behind the bird, brilliant blue butterflies flutter in the air, dancing in the gentle breeze.
“Wow!” Her eyes light up. “They’re so beautiful, so colorful.”
“It's like this every day… parrots, toucans, blue morphos… sometimes a capuchin monkey or two will swing by to say hello.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but you’ll need to remember not to leave your shoes out on the deck. The monkeys sometimes take things that don't belong to them.”
“Cute,” she shrieks, letting out a tiny giggle. “Burglar monkeys.”
“I would imagine the animals could inspire your writing, help you create stories.”
“Yeah, there are so many cool creatures here; I could have a whole jungle book series.”
“Maybe your first book could be about a monkey who swings from the trees wearing sneakers.”
She gazes over at me shaking her head. “Seriously?”
“Why not? Isn't that the beauty of writing? You can create any story you want.”
She walks up to me and stares into my eyes. “So what's your story? Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something?” Two questions that drop out of nowhere.
“What would I be hiding?” I’m not prepared for an interrogation.
“I don't know. I guess because we're still getting to know each other. I guess because you never told me you already had a house here.” She pauses to take a breath. “Things are happening a little too fast for me.”
“So, I take it you're having second thoughts?”
“I don't know. Everything’s new, and there are so many things that are unknown.”
“But I thought you were an adventurous type of gal. Did I get it wrong?”
“You're the one who likes action-adventures.”
“And you're the one who likes mysteries.”
“Thrillers,” she adds. “I also like old-fashioned psychological thrillers.”
“Well, then, think of our new life together as an action-adventure with a tinge of thriller.”
19
Valerie
A few weeks later, the house was looking more like home. We purchased a gray futon and a dining set, and David let me pick out some new curtains for the glass doors. But the most important part, at least for me, was finally having the internet hooked up.
I had been out of touch with the world, only having access to snippets of local news when we were out and about running errands. Most of the TVs at the bars and restaurants were tuned into either sports or news channels. Everything was spoken in Spanish and I had no idea what they were saying. But David did his best to translate for me although he didn't speak the language a hundred percent.
When I turned on the computer, there were a bunch of emails from Cindy. As I opened the messages, each one more dire than the other, I sensed her concern.
Hey, Val, wanted to touch base. Please call or email when you can.
Are you okay?
Why aren’t you returning my messages?
I tried texting and calling your phone, but it goes directly to voicemail.
Val, where the hell are you?
Pick up your damn phone, Val!
If I don't hear from you in the next forty-eight hours, I’m coming down
