2. First Encounter
Claire composed herself. She didn’t want to make an unpleasant situation worse. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…um, so you own this place?”
“Yes. I don’t think we had time to introduce ourselves earlier. I’m Pat.” He stuck out his hand and Claire noticed a crisscross of scarring across the fingers. Had he gotten into fights in his youth? He didn’t seem the type, but you could never tell. She had to admit, sneaking more than one glance at his arms and chest, he must work out to maintain that form.
Good grief. That was the second time she’d had such thoughts. Seriously, could she be more immature?
He may be a teddy bear, according to the library volunteer. But by the looks of those damaged knuckles, he’d been a grizzly at some point.
Noticing her gaze, he dropped his hand and put them both behind his back. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. Thank you. Um, would you like to come in?”
He shook his head. “No. Thanks. I, well, you’re my first guest. So if I’ve forgotten anything—”
“Oh, there is one thing.”
“Yes?”
“I wondered if there’s a laundromat nearby.”
“Ah, yes. Here, let me show you the laundry facilities.”
She followed him around the beautiful, landscaped garden, glimpsing a set of chairs tucked away under an avocado tree. Her mouth watered at the thought of having her favorite fruit accessible in her backyard. A small rectangular pool of blue water glistened along the back fence line. She considered how beautiful the bougainvillea and other flowering plants must look in spring and summer. The idea of floating in the pool with all the flowers in bloom filled her mind. Her thoughts were interrupted as he stopped in front of a doorway.
“This leads to the laundry. The housekeeper does mine. Feel free to put your laundry there if you want anything washed. She will also clean your place. She comes every Tuesday.”
“I’m feeling spoiled by this. I don’t recall this as part of the cost.”
Despite having a good pension and savings, Claire’s frugality was partly what had led her to Mexico for dental treatments.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not much different from what I have done now.”
He shut the laundry door before striding to a set of steps leading upwards. He pointed.
“My house is up here. If you need anything else, you can catch me there. Or up on the Mirador. Do you want to go up and check it out? It has a marvelous view of the lake.”
“That sounds nice. Yes, I’d like to see it. I’ll follow you.”
He led her first up the stairs to his house. Fold-back glass patio doors were open to connect the interior with the exterior. Expanding the space by opening the doors made sense with the mostly year-round temperate weather.
As they passed, she spied a comfortable home of mismatched chairs, colorful art, and one wall full of books. The desire to check them out almost had her abandoning him to explore his books further.
The next set of stairs was steeper and composed of metal. While not afraid of heights, the open metal left her clutching tight to the railing. However, her nervousness calmed when she stepped foot on the Mirador’s solid concrete floor. The gray lake stretched before her. Mountains rose in the distance. She turned around to see the foothills behind her. “This is beautiful.”
“Yes, I spend a lot of my time up here working. You should be here after the rainy season. Everything is lush and green.”
“I can see why you would. You said, working. What do you—”
He cleared his throat, stopping further conversation. “Let’s head back down. I have an appointment this afternoon.”
His abrupt change of tone signaled his dismissal. Had she moved beyond the landlord and renter decorum? She nodded. “Thank you for showing me this. I have to get some items too. Is there a place you’d recommend?”
“Depends. My recommendations will differ if you take the bus or walk. The Supermercado is the most westernized store. But it’s a bit of a jaunt. If you need some basics, there are smaller ones nearby and of course, convenience stores.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage. Thanks again for the tour.” She gripped the metal railing as she made her way tentatively down the steps.
Back in front of the open doorway leading inside his home, she noticed him glancing down at her open-toed sandals. “Oh, another thing. Ditch those.”
She looked at the sandals she’d purchased before leaving home. “I like these. What’s wrong with these shoes?”
“They’re not great for the streets and sidewalks here. You’ll end up hurting yourself. Get you some sneakers.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’m pretty careful. I’ll be fine.”
He puffed out his chest as he shook his head. He shrugged, before replying, “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and retreated into the depths of his home. Claire heard a door close.
Okay, then. Grumpy teddy bear is ‘just right.’
After returning to her casita, Claire decided to wait for a store run. She could do some more reading. She put her hair into a set of braids, as it would be more comfortable against the chaise. She worked her fingers through her hair. Still thick, her nimble fingers made quick work of separating the back into two portions. She deftly wove her hair into two simple braids. Unable to find her rubber bands, she used small pieces of ribbon to capture the braids. That should work for now.
Claire picked up her book club read and headed out to the chaise in the garden. Before long, the warmth of the sun and light breeze soothed her. Her eyelids drooping, she gave into the unfamiliar sensation and allowed herself the pleasure of a rarely taken nap.
A soft breeze rustled the pages of her book as the sun snuck behind a cloud. She shivered from the coolness, coaxing her into wakefulness.
Wait, no. A presence.
She swam to the surface of consciousness when a male voice cleared his throat.
He moved, and the sun came back in full force. She raised her hand to cover her eyes. Claire rose from the chair back and huffed, “Can I help you?”
“Sorry to wake you. I’m going to the Supermercado. Thought you might want a lift. I didn’t see you leave earlier.”
“Are you spying on me?”
His mouth turned into a frown. He pointed to her entrance. “Absolutely not. But that gate—squeaks.”
She sat up, smoothing loose tendrils of hair back off her face. “Well then, why don’t you get it fixed?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Of course, you don’t. Makes too much sense if it bothers you.”
She could see she’d hit a nerve. Why did she feel this need to pick at him?
“It doesn’t bother me and since I never use that gate, I like to know if someone’s coming in that way. Now, Mrs.—”
“I’m not a Mrs. Never have been.”
He chuckled. “Why does that not surprise me?”
She swung her feet over the edge of the chaise. He held out his hand, but she ignored it.
Claire pushed her shoulders back. “I’ll have you know that I’ve had plenty of opportunities, I chose to be single.”
He held his hands up. “Don’t yell at me. Same here. Never see the need for marriage.”
Which explains a lot. She stared at him, but his eyes were hidden by Aviator sunglasses.
He raised his palms in a sign of surrender. “Do you want to go or not?”
Claire felt a tickle on her cheek. Fearing a bug or spider, she jerked, her hand flying to her face.
“It’s just your hair. You should wear it down like that more often. It suits you.”
When she glanced at the ground, Claire spied the ribbon next to the chaise. It must have come off while she slept. The braid had come loose, leaving that side in waves.
Instead of responding to what he said, she replied, “I won’t be a moment.”
She rushed back into the casita, a rush of conflicting emotions warring inside. On one hand, she’d wanted to slam the door behind her. Though first, that would be childish and also difficult since he owned the place. Yet, the idea of spending more time with him brought a strange flush to her body.
She flung her book on a nearby chair before moving into the bathroom. She emitted a low growl. “Argh. That man. Who is he to tell me how I should wear my hair?” She stared into the mirror. On the right side, her hair still held the tight braid while the left flowed freely in gentle waves.
The thought came unbidden. Two sides of one person. One tight and controlled, one soft and open.
She blinked as the words hit home.
No. That wasn’t it at all. Braids were more efficient and kept her hair out of her face. At the college, she’d worn the braids up in a bun. It may have looked severe, but it was practical. If nothing else, Claire liked being practical.
She undid the other braid and drug the brush through her hair. She made to braid her hair, but instead gathered it loose into a bun on her head. She dotted a spot of pink lip gloss on her lips before checking to see if her dress hadn’t become so wrinkled as to be unsuitable for going out.
Pat stood in the courtyard, and she coughed to get his attention. He had taken off his sunglasses. She directly met his eyes before looking away as his smoldering gaze shifted to her hair. She forced herself not to reach up and touch or fiddle with it.
She licked her lips, nervous at the intense electricity surrounding them.
His lazy smile appeared before he replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, madam. I’m waiting for Frau—”
The spell between them broke, and she replied, “Haha. Are you ready to go?”
He waved toward the laundry area. “My car’s over by the carport under the house.”
They walked to his car, an older small four-seater. It made sense, as almost everything was within walking distance. When you needed to drive, parking looked to be minimal on the streets.
He opened the door for her and she thanked him as she slid into the seat. Unlike the outside, which could have used a wash, the interior had been cleaned. She watched as he opened the large driveway gate before getting back into the car. He smiled as he backed the car out through the opening before returning to shut the gate.
Claire spoke to clear the silence. “It’s a lot of work to take the car out.”
“Unless I’m going somewhere requiring a vehicle, I prefer to walk. Good exercise.” He snapped his seat belt in place. “You a walker?”
“I’ve been known to use my two legs now and again to get me from one place to another.”
She didn’t expect a guffaw from him. “You’re a hoot, you know that!”
As he drove, Claire stole glances at him. His eyes watering with his laughter. Not that funny. She meant it to be sarcastic. Yet she couldn’t stop her lips from turning up at his laughter.
He put on his blinker and turned onto the main road. “If you don’t already know, this is the Carretera. It goes down to the center of town, so if you ever get lost walking, just head toward the mountains and you’ll find it. Then you can get your bearings. Or from here to the lake if you can see it.”
“Thank you. I don’t know how I managed all these years without you.”
He hit the steering wheel with his hand and laughed again. “You’re something.”
She didn’t know if his words were meant as an insult or compliment, so said nothing. Though she enjoyed their banter.
As they drove, he popped in a CD. Music from 1969 played through the speakers and she went back in a flash to the carefree days of her youth.
She clapped her hands together, a huge grin on her face. “Oh, I love this song.”
“Takes you back, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. I didn’t know they even made CDs anymore.”
“I kept these, and it’s pretty much the reason I drive this old jalopy. Now, you have the streaming and all that, but nah. Though if I were staying true to it, this would be on a 45.”
“Oh, my yes. Remember—”
And with that, they were off reminiscing about things they recalled from childhood and youth. Though Claire had grown up on the East Coast, Pat had grown up on the West Coast. It still didn’t explain his accent, but it made sense it sounded different to her ear than the eastern accents. There were some differences concerning their past lives as teens, but enough memories that had them both laughing.
“Ever done karaoke? We should go with the group into Chapala.” He burst into song, causing Claire to laugh before joining in. Their off-key singing didn’t matter as they sang along to one song and then another. Their eyes met as the lyrics of not remembering what day it was enveloped the car. When the words of falling in love surrounded them, their gazes met for a split second before they turned away.
Claire’s heart pounded, and she gulped as she stopped singing. She struggled to think of something to say.
Thankfully, they’d reached their destination. He shut off the car. “Well, we’re here. That trip down memory lane was fun.”
His eyes held hers, and she looked down in her lap before replying.
“Yes.” Say something. Anything.
Claire heaved a sigh of relief as Pat spoke.
“Hey, let’s do a day trip around the lake. Windows down, music going. What do you say, east coast?”
“I’d like that.”
She smiled because her words had never been truer.