Above it All Ch. 02-03

"This isn't a big car," she noted, referring to my Jeep.

"Nope, you're right. It's my starter car. I need transportation and a reliable vehicle that will get me up to Tahoe in the winter. The Jeep was economical to buy and run, and has four-wheel drive as well. I could have bought a Toyota or a Honda SUV, but this was cheaper and since I don't put a lot of miles on it, should last me until I can buy that Cadillac," I grinned.

"Hah! You've got that on your mind now, haven't you?" she challenged me.

"Yeah ... I admit, I have. But if I was to own something like that, I'd need a place to keep it, so a house with a proper garage would be a first requirement. So, that's what I've been thinking about ... buying a house that is."

"You weren't kidding, were you," she said, remember my earlier comment.

"No, I wasn't. Look, why don't I drop you off at your apartment. I'll go home and shower and change, then pick you up at six and we can have dinner together. I'll tell you all you want to know about me then. That sound like a plan?"

"Okay," she said, hesitantly.

"Am I moving too fast for you?" I wondered aloud.

"A little bit, but I do want to hear more. Nothing fancy for dinner, I hope," she said.

"No ... but I do know of a nice seafood place that I'm sure I can get a reservation at. You won't be disappointed," I promised.

"Okay. Seafood sounds good. I'll see you at six then?" she said, looking for confirmation.

"Right on the dot. I won't be late," I smiled.

I got a nice smile in return as she got out of the car and walked to the entrance. I made sure she was safely inside before I moved away. Once again, my heart rate was elevated. This woman was getting to me very quickly.

Chapter 3 Progress of a Kind

"I don't have to ask how the grouper was," I said with a grin. She had devoured it.

"It was wonderful," Gabrielle said. "I'm so glad you chose this place. I didn't know it existed."

"I found it by accident a few weeks ago and saved it for a special occasion. I have to confess, I phoned yesterday for a reservation, gambling that you might agree to join me."

"Pretty confident, weren't you?" she said with a sly look.

"No ... not really. If you weren't interested, I'd still have my meal here."

She was acting a bit coy, but I could understand that. We had hardly met and it wasn't like we had much information about each other.

"I think it would be a good idea if I told you something about me," I began.

She smiled. "Go ahead."

"I'm originally from Midland, Michigan, home of Dow's head office. My father worked for Dow ... in fact, it was the only company he ever worked for. He was a graduate of Michigan State in chemical engineering. I have two sisters; Shannon, who is two years older than me, and Olivia, who is six years older than me. Both of them live in the Los Angeles area, while my grandparents live near there as well.

"I have only one set of grandparents, those on my father's side. My mother was orphaned at age five when her mother died in childbirth with what would have been her sixth child. Her father abandoned the family and as a result, my mother, three sisters, and one brother were taken into foster care by the state of West Virginia. They were scattered to various foster homes, and despite my mother trying to locate them, she was never successful.

"Both my parents are dead. They were killed when I was about to start my final year of college. They were on their dream vacation in Italy and driving in the mountains north of Milan when they were sideswiped by a truck and knocked over an embankment. The driver was arrested and charged with being drunk and with culpable manslaughter."

The look of horror on Gabrielle's face was a reminder to me not to move too quickly with my narrative.

"That's awful," she said when she regained her wits. "But what brought you here to the Bay Area?"

"My dad was given a promotion when I was about to enter my junior year of high school. He was named assistant manager at the Dow agricultural plant in Davis. We had a nice house and a good life there. When my folks were killed, we inherited quite a lot of money among the three of us, plus the house. Some of it was their savings and investments, and some of it was insurance. It left both my sisters and me quite well off. That's how I can consider buying a home."

"What happened to the guy who was responsible for your parents' death?" she wondered.

"He received a prison term of two years, but will probably be out before that. They only just had the trial a year ago. The courts in Italy take forever to deal with these kinds of cases. Our lawyer sued the company that the driver worked for, but so far we haven't had a judgment on that. It's still pending, but I'm not holding my breath that we'll ever see much from it."

"You said you had been working in Midland with Dow while you were in college. Is that the only company you've worked for?" she asked, clearly paying rapt attention to me.

"No, I had a very interesting job at a motorcycle dealership in Sacramento in the service department. I worked there part time shortly after we moved to Davis until I transferred from Sacramento State to Geary. Dad taught me a lot about motorcycles and other vehicles when he restored a vintage bike and sidecar. Right now the bike is on display in that dealer's showroom. I inherited it from Dad and it's still in my name."

"What do your sisters do?" she asked.

"Olivia, or Liv as she's known to us, is almost thirty and unmarried. I hear from her sister that she's got a serious boyfriend, but I haven't met him. I don't even know his name. She is a certified accountant. She has her own business and is doing very well I understand. Shan ... or Shannon ... is single, but in a relationship with a guy in L.A. I haven't heard if they plan to get married, but she'll tell me if and when it's going to happen. She's working at a film studio that specializes in educational products."

"And your grandparents are in Los Angeles?"

"Yes, still alive, retired, and in good health in their seventies. Originally, when my parents were killed, they said they would never leave Midland, but after a year alone and a nasty winter, they changed their mind and headed for the sunny south, finding a nice place in Costa Mesa. They live in a gated community and they've met some new friends and are happy again. My dad was an only child, so they had no one left in their family beside me and my sisters. I talk to them on the phone regularly and try and see them when I'm in the area ... about once a month."

She sat back, blinking as I finished my story.

"So, tell me about the Lamont family and Klamath Falls," I said after a period of silence.

"Nothing quite so dramatic," she said slowly. "My father is county commissioner for Klamath County. My mother is head librarian for the city. Between them, they are comfortably well off. The cost of living there is a lot less than down here."

"I'm sure it is. That's true of Midland, too," I noted.

"Anyway, I have a brother, Oran, who is married with two children, both boys," she smiled. He got married when he finished high school and chose not to go to college. He works in the local dairy in the butter and cheese department. He's happy and doing what he enjoys. I don't see him very often, but we do talk, both with our parents and each other."

"You said you'd had poor luck with boyfriends," I remembered. "Is it too personal to tell me why?"

"I'll tell you ... but not tonight. I'm really enjoying myself and I don't want to spoil the mood. Do you mind?" she asked, her brow wrinkled in concern.

"No ... of course not. Don't feel obligated to tell me at all. If I get too nosy, just tell me to knock it off," I smiled.

"Don't worry, I will," she chuckled, and the tension of the moment was gone.

~*~

I was back on the road the following week, this time to Los Angeles and San Diego, before moving on the Phoenix and Tucson. Some of it was flying and some was driving rental cars. Either way, it was a long week and I wasn't able to get back to Hayward until late Friday night.

I slept in Saturday morning, trying to catch up on my sleep from my motel nights in lumpy beds and noisy surroundings. I was awakened by the phone ringing and it must have gone to the answering machine before I was really aware of what the noise was. I glanced at the clock on my night table and saw it was almost nine-thirty, much later than my usual hour to rise.

I checked the answering machine after my shower and smiled as I heard Gabrielle's voice. If she was calling me, I took that to mean she was interested. I put a couple of frozen waffles in the microwave before toasting them, made the coffee, and drank my morning fruit juice. I felt a lot more awake and lively when I picked up the phone to call Gabrielle.

"Hi, I got your message. I slept in this morning," I explained.

"What time did you get in last night?" she wondered.

"Oh, the plane didn't arrive until ten-thirty, so by the time I got my luggage, bailed out my Jeep, and got home and into bed it was nearly midnight."

"Oh ... so you were pretty tired then," she said sympathetically.

"Yeah. I don't sleep as well as I should on the road. Different rooms in different towns and different beds kind of messes with my normal routine."

"I'm sure it would. Maybe you need a companion to help you sleep," she teased.

I could almost hear the laughter in her voice.

"I've thought about that, but Dow was very reluctant to pay the bills for the lady I had in mind," I said with a hidden grin. Her shot deserved a reply.

"Oh, and just who did you have in mind?" she teased.

"Really, Gabrielle, a gentleman would never reveal something like that."

It was a bit of fun, or at least it was so far.

"And you consider yourself a gentleman?" she persisted.

"Haven't I demonstrated that so far?"

There was a pause before she answered. "I suppose ... so far."

I could still hear the humor in her voice, so I knew I hadn't pushed my luck too far. Now it was a matter of why she called.

"You left a message for me this morning. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you'd like a home cooked meal tonight. I'm sure you get more than enough restaurant food."

Her voice was very calm and very inviting and it took me no time at all to respond.

"I'd like that very much. What time?"

"Say ... six-thirty. I have things to do today, so I want enough time to get properly prepared."

She didn't sound at all tentative, so I agreed I'd be on her doorstep at six-thirty.

I arrived at exactly six-thirty, smiling to myself as I knocked on her door.

"Hi," she said happily as she opened the door. "Come in, please."

"Thank you," I replied, gazing at her attire. "You look very nice." I might have said she looked spectacular, but I refrained from going over the top with my praise. Nonetheless, she was wearing a pale yellow sweater that fit every curve and hollow of her torso, while a navy blue knee length skirt set off the curves of her hips and butt. I also noted she was barefoot.

"Should I take off my shoes?" I wondered aloud.

"Only if you want to. I wander around barefoot all the time, not even thinking it might bother someone visiting. Does it bother you?" she asked.

"No ... not at all," I said, slipping off my loafers and taking off my leather bomber jacket.

She took the jacket from me and hung it in the coat closet.

"Dinner will be a few minutes yet. Can I offer you a drink? I have wine and beer."

"Wine, I think ... red if you have it."

"I do," she smiled. "I'm having some as well. It's a Sonoma Zinfandel I'm fond of."

"Sounds good," I added, following her into the kitchen area.

"This is a pretty good size kitchen for an apartment," I said, looking around.

"It is," she agreed. "I was lucky to find this place. It's a two bedroom, one bath unit, but I liked the location. This is an older building that was renovated not long before I arrived."

"My kitchen is more like a galley on a boat," I said. "Everything within two steps, one side or the other. I like to cook, but I usually don't bother with anything fancy when it's just me."

"You and I seem to have a number of things in common," she offered as she stirred something on the stove.

"I was thinking that same thing," I admitted. "You surprised me being interested in the car show the other week, and we both are committed to exercise and a proper diet. Which brings me to ask what is that wonderful smell coming from that big pot?"

"It's a special stew my mother taught me to make. I'll never give up the secret ingredients though."

I watched her at the stove as she continued to prepare our meal.

"What are you doing on Thanksgiving weekend?" I asked as I relaxed in her presence, sipping my wine.

"I toyed with the idea of going home for a couple of days, but it's such a hassle for such a short time. I either have to go through Portland or from San Francisco. I'd drive if wasn't likely to be snowing up around Weed and Highway 97. My car isn't equipped for snow."

"Yeah ... that would be risky, all right," I agreed. "I bought the Jeep because it has four-wheel drive. Which reminds me, the ski season at Incline Village is already open. If it wasn't so tough to get a place to stay, I'd suggest we do that for Thanksgiving."

She turned and looked at me carefully. For a moment I thought I had stepped in it, saying the wrong thing about us being together over the holidays.

"Maybe there is a way," she said, turning back to her stew pot. "Georgette asked me if I wanted to go with her and John to Tahoe for that weekend. Her mother and grandmother will look after their children and give them a few days of fun and relaxation. I said I'd think about it. I didn't want to be a third wheel, so I was going to decline, but ..."

"But what?" I asked, hoping there was a chance.

"Well, they do have the room ... and they did say I could bring a friend. You are a friend, aren't you?" she asked innocently, still not looking at me.

"Absolutely. But ... I don't know," I said hesitantly. "They don't know me and he's my biggest and most important customer. That might be awkward."

"Well, I'm also your biggest and most important client, aren't I?" she said with a sly look.

"Oh, definitely. Why don't you ask Georgette if it would be okay? I don't want it to be uncomfortable for them."

She turned to me and stepped toward me. "I think it would be an ideal way for your most important customer to get to know you, don't you?"

The smile on her lips told me there was more to this than she was letting on. I called her on it.

"So ... what aren't you telling me?"

"Who, me?" she asked, pointing to herself, unable to keep a straight face.

"Yes ... you."

"Well, I might have mentioned something about bringing someone with me if I were to take them up on her invitation. And Georgette said that someone wouldn't be someone she'd met would it? So, I had to confess that she had met that someone. So ... I guess that means you ... being that someone ... are invited to join the Smiths at their place in Tahoe for a Thanksgiving ski weekend. Interested?"

"How could I possibly say no," I smiled.

"Then don't. We can leave on Wednesday afternoon. I'm assuming you'll be back in town then?"

"Yeah ... I don't travel Thanksgiving week. It's a waste of time. Too many people away."

"Wonderful. Then we can leave early afternoon and arrive before five. I think John and Georgette are leaving Wednesday morning, so they'll be there to greet us."

"You've got this all planned out, eh? You and Georgette are BFF, huh?"

She laughed. "Well, let's just say we're kindred spirits."

"I guess I should be flattered. Two beautiful women think I'm worth their valuable time."

She didn't respond, remaining at the stove, pouring something into the stew pot before putting it into the oven.

The meal was wonderful, even if I didn't know exactly what the ingredients were. I've always considered myself fortunate that I liked most foods, although I was averse to very hot spices. I saw no point in being uncomfortable (if not in pain) while eating. But Gabrielle's stew was incredibly flavorful and filling. The top was crusted with a thin layer of pastry that had a delicate taste of its own."

"There's more if you'd like some," she said with a smile as she saw the satisfied look on my face as I finished.

"No ... thank you. It was wonderful, but I'd kill for the recipe," I sighed.

"An old French recipe that was handed down from my mother's side of the family. Originally, both my father and mother's ancestors were of French origin. My father's family name was originally LaMontaigne, but somehow it got Americanized to Lamont. The story goes that this happened during the revolution when there was a lot of confusion about who was on the side of the Redcoats, and who on the side of the revolutionaries. On top of that, the French were pretty friendly with the Indians, so no one was quite sure who to trust."

"That's some history," I said. "I guess I'd better not do anything to upset your French ancestors by stealing their recipe."

"I don't prepare this very often because it takes a while ... most of the day, in fact. But I'm thinking you believe it was worth the effort."

"Oh ... beyond doubt. I was amazing. Wonderful flavors," I exclaimed.

She smiled. "Good, that's what I wanted to hear."

We had a second glass of wine after the dishes were cleared away and put in the dishwasher. There was still plenty of stew which remained on the stove, leaving little to do to clean up the kitchen.

We sat beside each other on the sofa and talked about our backgrounds and families and growing up in Oregon and Michigan. The more we talked the more I realized we were each feeling an attraction to the other. I found her very easy to talk to. We had a number of things in common and one of them was music.

"I notice you've got a keyboard. Do you play the piano?" I asked.

"Yes, I took lessons when I was a young girl. I'm not particularly gifted, but I can read music and I play reasonably well. I prefer more contemporary music than the classics."

"Another coincidence," I said. "I took piano lessons for five years. I was never that great, but I still played off and on until we sold the house in Davis. Shan took the family piano because she had a place for it and she was quite talented as well. I've thought about buying a keyboard, but I picked up the guitar when I was a teenager and I've spent more time on that than the piano."

"This was a gift from my parents when I graduated from Berkeley. It's programmable and I can also create background music like you'd have in karaoke. It has an amazing number of different instruments in its program."

"We'll have to get together and have a jam session some time," I suggested.

"Pick a rainy, miserable day when we'll want to stay indoors and we'll do that," she promised with a smile.

To Be Continued