Entrainment: Among the Cloud Dwellers

Chapter 6

I had instructions to keep my eyes open for a sign with my name on it, but Gabe saw Clark before I could even begin to look around for Dom, my driver. My eyes followed his and stumbled upon a sun-parched version of the man holding my hand.

Clark stood tall and solid, wearing a timeless smile matched by a faded denim shirt that looked just as old. Where Gabe's eyes still reflected honesty, Clark's wore an astute smart-ass look, framed by myriad laugh lines that appeared to deepen as we got closer to him. He looked at me as he would at something exotic on his plate, wondering if I were good to eat or if he should just ask for the check, go home, and fix a Vegemite sandwich.

I held his gaze.

Gabe briefly let go of my hand to shake his father's.

"Hey, son! How was the flight?" Clark asked.

"Not bad, thanks. I slept most of the way."

Clark's eyebrows went up. Way up. "I'll be stuffed! You slept?" He looked at me.

I grinned.

"Yes. I did. Clark, this is Porzia Amard. Porzia, this is my father, Clark Miller."

Clark re-orchestrated his eyebrows, smiled, and extended his hand. "It's indeed a pleasure to meet you, Miss Amard."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Miller. Please, call me Porzia." I returned the firm handshake.

"Well then, splendid! I'm Clark." He turned to look at Gabe, still holding my hand. "Is she the reason you slept?"

"Yes, she is," Gabe mused. "She gave me a panino."

"Ah! That explains it," Clark conceded, bringing my hand to his lips, amusement in his voice. "I have no clue what he's talking about," he said, kissing my hand, "but if it cures his high-altitude insomnia then I'm all for it. Welcome to Oz, Porzia."

Charming old devil, I thought, taking my hand back. "Thank you." I would leave him wondering about the panino mystery a while longer.

"What brings you all the way Down Under?" Clark asked as we walked to collect our luggage.

"Wine."

"Excellent!" He took my left arm under his right and patted my hand. "We have heaps of beer as well."

"Do you now?" I smiled, as I caught sight of a flustered man waving a sign with my name on it. I waved back at him. Gabe followed my gaze to a very relieved Dom.

"Miss Amard? I'm terribly sorry. Please forgive me. Traffic was horrible on the way over," he panted, pumping my hand.

"Please, no reason to apologize. I'm glad you've made it here safe."

"Yes, yes. Thank you. I'm parked right outside-will I be driving everybody back to the vineyard?"

"Oh no, we have our own car, thanks," Clark answered. He let go of my arm to follow Gabe to the carousel as it started to move.

A freezing winter wind hit us outside. I wrapped myself inside my jacket and shoved my hands deep inside my pockets where my fingers closed around a few more Baci chocolates. Benedetta must have slipped extra ones in there. I was about to say good-bye and follow Dom when Gabe took my arm and pulled me aside. Clark winked at me. Feigning nonchalance, he loaded bags into a top-of-the-line SUV parked a few car spaces behind Dom's Jeep.

Gabe sieved his hands through my hair and held my head while he kissed me, keeping his eyes open. I know because I didn't close mine either. I just looked at him. I kissed him back.

"I'm going to remember every moment spent with you until I see you again." He kissed the tip of my nose. "Ring when you have a chance. If I don't hear from you in about two hours, I'm calling you." He smiled.

"OK." I pulled my hands out of my pockets and gave him a chocolate. "Eat it on your way home," I said and hugged him. The hell with freezing. I kissed him one more time, forgetting the cold, warming up under his touch. I closed my eyes and melted against his heat.

It took a lot of control for both of us to come out of it; his hair was all messed up again. Did I do that? With my fingers?

Dom and Clark shook hands. It was time to go.

Clark dangled car keys in front of Gabe. "Would you like me to drive, son?" he asked with a smirk. He waved at me. "It's London to a brick I'll be seeing you again-"

I blew him a kiss, walked to the Jeep, and climbed into ... the driver's seat. A puzzled Dom held the opposite door open for me. Of course. They drive on the other side of the road. How silly of me to forget.

I was silent on the drive back to the winery. Having slept incredibly well in Gabe's arms, I didn't feel too tired even after such a long journey. But I needed a few moments to assess what had happened to me. To us. Was there even an 'us'? A somber palette of winter monochromatic colors shrouded Adelaide. The trees were mostly bare, and above us pregnant clouds shifted slowly against a low ceiling, reminding me of drowsy elephants.

Dom quietly hummed along with the radio.

I thought of Gabe. I closed my eyes. I thought of Xavier. I opened my eyes. Maybe I should stop thinking of both ... but what would I do with my eyes then?

We left Adelaide behind to climb up the hills. The road was wet; it must have rained minutes earlier. Homes became sparse and the landscape waxed foreign to my Florida-accustomed eyes. I felt ages away from home. Winter crawled under my skin, frosting whatever trace of Florida sunshine I carried within. The clouds dropped much lower and loomed so closely over me I struggled with the urge to reach out and touch them.

I tried to remember what the weather had been like the day Xavier died. I frowned in effort to focus on the background instead of his lifeless body slumped at my feet. I recalled the castle courtyard paved in damp gray cobblestones. No rain that day but wetness still lingered around. It must have been the end of winter, still cold enough to make one long for spring as a distant mirage. Xavier would never enjoy warmth again.

I wondered what had happened before that day. What brought us to love each other so? I could make up so many ways. I had opened a theater door in the middle of a movie playing, taken a peek at the screen, and shut the door again. There seemed no beginning, no end. Just a few strategically placed images scattered on a black velvet background.

A majestic eagle split a seam amid the grayness of the low clouds. It made me think of Gabe. Now he felt real. His deep voice, thick with his Australian accent when he said my name, rippled along my skin raising my hair from head to toe. How easy it had been to just let him hold me. Sometimes it takes months to fall into such a safe trust zone. Sometimes it never happens. With Gabe it had been instantaneous.

Endless rows of knotty, bare vines announced our approach to Umeracha Winery. A solid two-story mansion with a wrap-around porch stood at the end of a long, curved, gravel-paved driveway. A couple of caramel-coated dogs barked and chased around the Jeep as it slowed.

"Welcome to Umeracha, Miss Amard," Dom announced, bringing the car to a stop in front of the main entrance.

Beverly Jourdain's freckles spilled abundantly across her perky nose as she greeted me at the door and fussed around me like a busy bee on a ripe blossom.

We had met over a year earlier in Barossa when I came to write an extensive article about the Australian wine scene for In Vino Veritas. They had been there to receive a prize for their Cabernet. I remembered Frank, her husband, as a somber bear of a man, not nearly as gregarious as his wife. Beverly and Frank had three sons: Luke and Ronnald took after Frank, but Nicolas, the youngest one, had Beverly's sparkle twinkling from his eyes beneath an untamed mane of auburn hair.

The main house smelled of lemon-scented wood polish. Votive candles napped on a rustic sideboard. Resigned sepia family photographs dozed on the dark wood walls.

I walked with feet of felt to my room on the second floor. Down below, a naked garden slept through winter. I found it hard to make out what kind of tree those stark branches belonged to, even harder to imagine eventual buds on such knobby limbs. Impossible to imagine magic blooming in my barren life as well, I grimaced. Least of all true love.

I reached inside my pockets where I found a lonesome Baci chocolate and the dice key chain I had bought at the Pensacola airport. I unclasped the dice off the key chain and rolled. Two. How sad. Irrationally I had hoped for an immediate answer to all my problems. I unwrapped the chocolate and read the quote as I chewed the delicious morsel: "This being is free from servile bonds of hope to rise or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though no lands, and having nothing, yet hath all". Interesting.

A spacious bathroom hid behind an alcove screen. A large tub and plush towels beckoned me to run a bath. It was too early to go straight to bed, and I wanted to call Gabe. After the bath, I thought ... and then, sleep.

I sat on the edge of the tub and turned the water on. In a small basket a scrumptious selection of herbal bath gels captured my attention, and I poured an entire lavender bottle into the steaming waters. I quickly undressed and sank into the bubbly, scented water and closed my eyes. Too tired to even think, my mind drifted and my limbs relaxed, absorbing the heat until the water finally cooled down.

I felt much better afterwards. I was wrapping my hair in a towel when the phone rang.

"Porzia, I have a ... uh ... Gabe? ... on the line. Shall I put him through?" Beverly's voice asked politely.

"Yes, thank you." Excited, I sat on the tall bed and noticed my naked feet could not reach the rug. My toes had shriveled in the bath down to the look of semi-comatose raisins. How attractive.

"Porzia."

My heart skipped a beat. "Hello."

"Hey, you got there alroight?"

"Yes, it's beautiful up here. I even saw an eagle on the way up."

"You did?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes."

He switched the subject. "Hey, you didn't tell me the chocolate had a quote hidden in its wrap."

"What did it say?"

"'Leap and the net will open. The key to change is to let go of fear'."

"I believe that may be meant for me." I smiled and repeated the one I had found.

"If that's about me it's not accurate," he commented inscrutably and switched the subject again. "Do they have you drunk yet?"

"Why yes, of course. Dom had me going as soon as we left the airport."

I heard him chuckle. "You must be exhausted. I just wanted to wish you goodnight."

I tried not to yawn but wasn't able to hide it. Yes, I was tired. "You must be tired yourself." I let myself fall back on the bed.

"Well, yeah, but I'll be fine by tomorrow," he said. "I'll let you go."

"Ok, I'll call you tomorrow." My eyelids won the fight and shut. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Summoning my last reserve of will, I rang Beverly downstairs and told her not to worry about supper for me, that I would see them for breakfast. She offered to have a tray brought up, but as I was almost asleep, I told her it wasn't necessary.

With my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I fell asleep on top of the covers. I woke up sometime during the night to slip under the blankets and pull the damp towel off my head.