Among The Cloud Dwellers (Entrainment Series) (36 page)

He described to me his feelings about sleeping under the vastness of the Australian outback sky. I listened, imagining him out there, knowing that my imagination wouldn’t be enough to understand such a boundless expanse. He painted the memory of a sunrise with such poetic respect I could almost see him standing still as the sun peeked through the shadowed, distant hills, holding his breath so as not to disturb nature while his heart filled with the warmth of the golden sun slowly lighting up the miracle of another day.

“I thought about you and how when that warm sun filled me I could honestly say ‘Thanks, but I don’t need to have it all, for I already have the warm love of a splendid creature sustaining me.’ So I bowed and put my cap back on, telling the sun to go find someone who really needed warmth.”

“Gabe, that’s absolutely beautiful.”

“You should have been there. There is nothing like daybreak in the desert.”

“I could almost see it as you described it to me.”

“We should go when you come over. I’m working my schedule out so we can have time together, luv.”

“That would be great, but I don’t want to intrude on your schedule, Gabe.”

“Wouldn’t make much sense for you to get here while I’m stuck on some project and can’t take time off. I’d end up chuck a sickie the entire time.”

“Chuck a
what
?”

“Calling in sick at work without being sick.”

I laughed. “That’s funny. What are you guys working on now?”

“My pipedream, luv.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Am I going to see it when I get there?”

“I hope it will be done by the time you get here so I can take you for a ride in the desert and show you how sunrises are truly meant to be.”

“I can’t wait, Gabe,” I whispered.

“We’re going toward the nice season, Porzia. It will be a perfect time for you to be here and see things around. Let me know the exact dates, and I’ll have a plane ticket ready for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

His voice deepened, became more intimate. “I just wish it was a one way ticket, luv.”

What do you say to that?

“I don’t know what to say, Gabe.”

“No worries, we’ll talk about it when you get here.” He paused, then, with humor in his voice, continued, “I might be able to persuade you to stay.”

“How?” I teased.

“Get you a job down at the shop,” he replied, laughing.

“That’s not what I was hoping for,” I said, not falling for it.

“No? What were you hoping for?”

“A warm bed and the promise of an occasional lazy morning, rain falling outside, and more local Aboriginal tales from paintings hanging on your walls; cooking side by side; forgetting about food and tearing clothes off each others’ bodies; holding hands, drinking coffee, showering together, and other moments that make days, weeks, and a lifetime.”

Silence filled the distance between us. “I love you, Porzia.”

“I love you, Gabe.” My heart about broke at the thought of being so far away from him.

“Goodnight, luv.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and languidly savored the feeling of his voice still rippling through me. He might have not been lying next to me, but this wasn’t a bad way to begin the day. It could have been a lot worse. I could have been going through life without ever knowing him.

T
he following days blurred with activities: typing, faxing, and talking on the phone with Hannah and Professor Wyvill at
Grape Expectations
.

Hannah had managed to shoot a picture of “The Wolf” as he walked ahead of us, the husky at his side, to the barn where we first met Zach ToeKnight. I stared at his straight broad shoulders. Despite the walking stick, he exuded strength and felt somewhat familiar. I tried to recall his eyes but to no avail, although his words about passion still vibrated through me. I ran a finger along his figure almost expecting him to turn and answer my silent question:
Ma chi sei?

After sorting the rest of Hannah’s photos and editing drafts until everybody agreed on a final layout, I turned my attention to Oscar and the
Scoop
deal still pending. Camille was being extremely patient, especially with Oscar sorting out his private life to make things happen, but with me as well. Without knowing what the future held, or how serious things were getting with Gabe, I felt reluctant to commit or make promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

I still managed to find time to jog every morning. I saw Evalena for tea and a nice relaxing chat to bring her up to speed on things happening. Her house was almost ready to move back into; the paving on the driveway the last missing piece of the puzzle. So by the time I’d be back from Australia, they’d be settling back into their own home.

I talked to Gabe every day. I guess the excitement of seeing one another again was contagious, and we found excuses to talk as much as possible—sometimes more than once a day. And if not by phone, we used e-mail just to say hi. I barely slept to accommodate the time difference, and I knew he did the same. Neither one of us minded. Sappy as it might sound, love sustained us.

In a whirlwind, a week went by, and I received my plane ticket in the mail, making my trip an unquestionable reality. A few more days and I would be in his arms.

This time I packed my luggage with plenty of sexy outfits and lingerie. I also added a few things in case we’d end up camping in the desert as Gabe had mentioned over the phone.

As usual, Benedetta drove me to the airport. With only a minute to spare for a hug, we hastily said good-bye. In a daze from that moment on, my trip became a physical act to be barely remembered, eclipsed by my emotions. Even my snacks didn’t help this time.

About eighteen hours later, I found myself about 30,000 feet above Adelaide, splashing cold water on my face, wishing for a bed and at least two days of uninterrupted sleep. Once again I flew from Pensacola to Houston to LA to Melbourne, where I had finally caught my last plane, the last leg of my journey to Gabe.

Walking back from the lavatory to my seat, I glanced at my hands. The skin of my palms was transparent, showing a pretty, intricate pattern of greenish-blue veins. It reminded me of a geographical map leading nowhere.
Must have something to do with the pressurized cabin,
I thought absentmindedly. My thoughts drifted through the filamentous barrier of time, and I remembered my last conversation with Gabe before leaving. I smiled.

“I haven’t been sleeping much lately, luv.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, just missing you heaps.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Then I really won’t sleep,” he had laughed.

Goose bumps crawled on my skin just remembering his laughter. As I rubbed my arms, the pilot announced our imminent descent into Adelaide, and my attention perked when he mentioned being just above Adelaide’s hills. I glanced outside the window thinking I could spot Gabe’s place, but Adelaide was a black velvet spread of winking gems. My watch read almost midnight local time.

Critically, I eyed my blue yoga pants and tank top. The fleece zip-up that completed the set had served its purpose to keep me comfortable but was nonetheless just that: comfortable. I tilted my head to see if my sneakers were still under the seat in front of me and wished I had brought a change of clothes, something a bit more feminine.
Even jeans would have worked better than this,
I thought, pinching the stretch jersey of my pants. I wore no makeup either; I never bother when flying, only this time the lack of mascara seemed to matter a huge deal. Why was I fretting about my usual choice of comfort over appeal when flying?

It was only Gabe for heaven’s sake!

Panic began to drum against the walls of my heart. I sieved a hand through my hair, restoring a brick on the crumbling wall of my confidence. I had washed my hair and dried it straight just hours before leaving. I knew at least that looked great.

I thought of Benedetta.
Great! The ugly duckling wears a wig!

We hit asphalt and the jet’s tires hiccuped on the runway. I tied my shoes back on and waited for the seatbelt light to turn off.

It took an eternity. I contemplated the idea of beginning to count my heartbeats thumping loudly in my chest. I unwrapped a piece of gum instead and chewed. The sharp peppermint flavor somersaulted in my nervous stomach. Looking around for a garbage bag I found a small one and quickly got rid of the gum. I thought of Gabe waiting for me just on the other side; the closest we’d been in weeks. I got impatient and pulled a royal blue thread off the upholstery of the headrest I was leaning on with every intention of unraveling the entire seat if things didn’t get going.

Finally, people began to move up front. I took a deep breath, gathered my jacket and bag, and followed, wondering why the hell I was so nervous.

I never got an answer. I saw Gabe as soon as I stepped out of the tunnel and ran into his arms, forgetting all about my bag and the rest of the world. His strong arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me off the floor. All that mattered was the ache lifting off my heart and his mouth on mine. His calm heartbeat echoed in my chest and mine finally slowed down.

“Welcome back to Oz, luv,” he said. His hand caressed my hair, and I lifted my head to look at him. His blue eyes smiled and his grin spread, still warm from the contact with my lips.

“Thank you.” I fluttered back to the floor and then reached on my tiptoes to kiss him again. I ran my hands up to his head and plunged my fingers into the thickness of his blond hair, deepening the intimacy of our mouths. I leaned against him and felt his hands caress my lower back. I pulled back and slowly tilted my head. His hair had gotten longer and the lines fanning at the corner of his eyes sexier than ever. He looked so much better than what I remembered.
So real, alive and vibrant; a painting come to life.

“Ready?” he asked as he reached for my bag with one hand while the other grabbed mine.

I nodded and finally took in the rest of him: faded jeans, hiking boots, and a thick suede jacket over a black shirt.

“Is this all you’ve got?” he asked, pointing at my bag.

“Yes.”

“You’re staying for three weeks and all you’re going to need is packed in this bag?” he asked, incredulous.

“I’m not planning on wearing a lot of clothes.” I winked at him. “As a matter of fact, I can’t wait to get out of these.” I pinched the fleece and shook it a couple of times, making him crack a grin.

“No worries, I’m sure we can work something out.” He tugged at my hood.

I blushed with pleasure.

He pushed open the exit door and I shivered against the dark night. As we hurried through the deserted parking lot I quickly slid into my jacket. I suddenly felt disoriented. The strangeness of my surroundings rolled over me and amassed onto my already confused state of jet lag and lack of sleep. I tightened my grip on Gabe’s hand.

Shielding against the artificial light of the parking lot, I blinked several times;
Australia,
I thought, barely able to focus. I observed the unfamiliar cars, the fresh air crisp and clear around me, stirring my senses. Inhaling slowly and deeply, I registered the foreign scents and blinked again.

“Won’t be long now, luv,” Gabe comforted me, unlocking the Rover. I climbed in while he stored my bag in the trunk. I sat and leaned my achy back against the cool seat leather, deeply inhaling Gabe’s familiar scent. The ethereal feather hanging from the rearview mirror trembled when he opened his door and climbed in.

“You must be exhausted,” he said.

My head nodded.

He drove swiftly along deserted roads with only the occasional car passing by until we left Adelaide behind and began to climb, the only vehicle on the winding road. A plane flew over us, aiming at the airport down below, and I found it hard to believe a few minutes earlier it had been me up there.

Snared in a web of exhaustion, I barely had the energy to talk. I squeezed his hand and brought it to my lips to lay a light kiss on his palm. He glanced over to look at me. “How you going?”

“Tired. Exhausted. And immensely happy.” I smiled.

“We’re gonna be home in two minutes. I’ll run you a bath and then you can sleep.”

“Sounds great, as long as you hold me.”

“Deal.”

Two minutes later, the gate silently opened in front of us. The house’s austere silhouette hid until the headlights swept it briefly. When Gabe cut the engine and the headlights with it, I saw a soft glow spilling from the high windows.

“We’re home, luv.”

I waited for him to get out and come around my side to open the door, and summoning my last crumbs of energy to get out of the car, I slid into his arms. He cupped my face and kissed me lightly; his long fingers pulsed warm on my cheeks.

“Let’s go inside and get you comfortable. I’ll come back for your bag.”

I nodded dreamily and held his hand up the steps to the front door. A dog barked inside, and the tawny muzzle of a butterscotch-coated golden retriever peeked through when Gabe opened the door. The dog stepped back, gave us room, and then walked back to Gabe, swinging a long tail, its mouth open as if smiling.

“Porzia, this is Tess,” he said, kneeling to scratch the dog’s floppy ears. I extended a hand to Tess to sniff and she warmed up to me. I knelt next to Gabe so Tess could do her dog thing and smell my fingers. Once satisfied, she bent her head, encouraging petting.

“Hello, Tess. Nice to meet you, girl,” I said, scratching her head. “She’s incredibly sweet, Gabe.” I looked into the dog’s warm brown eyes. She looked back at me, then took a step back and pushed Gabe with her head until he ended up sitting on the floor. I sat next to him and forgot how tired I was. I wanted the moment to last forever, to linger, unfazed, forever.

“We need to get you settled so you can relax, luv,” Gabe suggested, swiftly getting back on his feet. He leaned over to help me up and walked me back to the bedroom. While he went back to grab my bag, I sat on the bed and swept my eyes around the room. Everything looked as I remembered, only more tangible. The same mesmerizing Aboriginal painting hung on the wall; the same
garra
and
galpu
and the same trophies doubled as bookends. I inhaled deeply—the same smell of wood and Gabe’s subtle energy infusing the air. Comfortable at last, I rested my head against the pillows. I relaxed and kicked off my sneakers. My feet felt like squished marshmallows. Hopefully they’ll remember which shape to restore to.

I was almost asleep when Gabe walked back in with my bag. He quietly asked me if I still wanted a bath, and I nodded groggily. Exhaustion anchored my body, but I needed to wash the trip off my limbs. With enormous effort, I got up and walked the short distance to the bathroom, summoned by the gurgling welcome of the tub filling up fast. Gabe had switched the light off and had lit candles instead, but he was nowhere in sight. And then I realized he was giving me privacy and space to adjust. I felt touched by his attention. I got rid of my clothes and teased the water with my still-swollen foot, finding it the perfect temperature. I coiled my hair up my head and sank into the deliciously scented, bubbly waters.

Instantaneously, the trip tension began to melt.

In the flickering candlelight, I noticed a pile of fresh towels, toothbrush, toothpaste, soaps, a loofah, and other necessities I knew he went out of his way to gather for me. On the towel rack a clean white T-shirt hung neatly. I smiled, remembering how I had chosen the same one to sleep in last time. So much for the lingerie I had packed; I was going to spend my first night back in a T-shirt. I rinsed off beneath a jet of healing, warm water, visualizing the ache from the long trip, willing it to run down my body and disappear, along with the swirls of soap spiraling down the drain, to leave me cleansed.

I stepped out of the tub renewed and briskly dried my body. I brushed my teeth and looked at my reflection in the mist of the steamed-up mirror. Livid blue circles framed my eyes. I looked dead tired. A shadow of a suntan lingered on my nose and cheeks. A couple of extra lines at the corners of my eyes caught me by surprise. I knew they weren’t there a week ago. Trying to smooth them off with my fingertips, I only managed to blotch my skin red. I gave up, put on the T-shirt, and walked out of the bathroom. My bare toes sank into the thick carpet of the bedroom where a blazing fire greeted me. I looked around for Gabe and called his name.

“Out here, luv,” his voice answered from the veranda.

I walked though the sliding doors and a sharp slap of cold whipped my bare legs and feet. I hugged myself, hid my hands under my armpits, and bravely walked up to him. He turned around, taking his hands out of his jeans pockets. He looked tall and invincible, one with the surrounding night. A sliver of orange moon skimmed the black ocean. In a minute or so it would dip below the horizon, and I almost expected it to sizzle and dilute the water’s darkness, but it didn’t.

“It’s cold out here, Porzia. Let’s go back inside, luv. You’re all warmed up from the bath.” He wrapped his arms around me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting for Tess. She asked to go outside while you were taking your bath.”

I looked around. “Where is she?”

“Around here somewhere.” He whistled softly, and from beneath a shrub on our right, the dog magically appeared. She trotted happily behind us and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.