When Ordinary Isn't Ch. 04

"Your dad owned these horses? They both won the Preakness!"

"You're familiar? They've long since been retired to stud and sold, but yeah, they're probably still running around somewhere."

"You bet I'm familiar! I have thoroughbreds on my land, but I thought you said your dad raised cattle."

"He did. Black Angus. And horses."

The frame in the middle held a map. When he looked closely, he noted an outline marked around a large tract of land. To the southeast of it was the town of Nocona, Texas.

Eric's skin tingled and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Peggy?" he gasped as he stared at the map and a name rang in his head.

Foreman Farms of North Texas

"Oh, my god . Mitchell Foreman was your father?"

"Yes."

"No way," he whispered, reaching out to touch the glass-covered map, wondering if it was an illusion.

"I figured it out when you told me last night you'd bought two sections of land near Nocona seven years ago. During a break at the meeting today, I was able to pull up the closing documents on my laptop. I've got them all stored in the cloud for safe keeping. Of course, your name was on them. You bought your land from my dad."

"How on Earth did you even think to look?" he asked, studying the outline on the map. He knew exactly where his own ranch was. It was depicted as a two-section notch in the southwest corner of the perimeter outlined on the map.

"Two sections of land were a lot for one transaction. That much acreage doesn't change hands often. I remember when Dad sold it."

"It was a big enough thing he told you about it?" he pressed.

She laughed. "Yeah! He'd sold ten percent of his ranch. He said you were the first person to make him an honest offer. He was preparing to start scaling back. He told me about his plans, and I begged him to not sell more.

"Instead, he phased out his own operations and started leasing the land to other farmers and ranchers. He died a year into the effort, so I completed it. Count yourself lucky, because, if I'd have known he was planning to sell anything, I would've talked him out of it."

Peggy wrapped her arm around Eric's waist as he stared in awe at the map.

"Of course I made him an honest offer. I really liked the place and wanted a piece of it. I first flew over it during a solo cross country flight when I was training for my private pilot certificate and fell in love with it from the air. I drove there a couple of times to get a better look and knew exactly what I wanted."

He then remembered what she had said in his truck while they were driving.

"That's why you mentioned the Barnett Shale?"

"It's what enabled my parents to get into, well... all of this," she waved her hand around her.

"When the Barnett play started taking off more than a decade ago, exploration companies were offering pathetic little lease bonuses, like $500 per acre, back when land around there was selling for barely a thousand.

"Dad was smart. Even though they could've used the money, he waited until the first few dozen wells came in on some sections adjacent to his. When the energy companies discovered the Barnett was going to be a huge play, they realized they were vastly underestimating its potential."

"How long did he hold out?"

"About four years. When horizontal drilling and fracturing were all figured out, the producers started to get serious. They offered him anywhere from $15,000 to $20,000 per acre over the next two years. They even signed one at $30,000 per acre on one section. They've punched a total of 120 holes so far, and I keep getting notices from the Texas Railroad Commission of intent to drill more."

"How much pipeline have they laid?"

"Somewhere around fourteen miles, so there were pretty sizable easement payments, too, and barely half of the land has been explored so far."

Eric's mind quickly did the math. Half of eighteen sections meant almost six thousand acres. Conservatively using the low figure of fifteen thousand per acre meant close to a hundred million dollars for the leases, even before production royalties.

"Sheesh. They were bigger than the Clampetts, weren't they."

"Over the next two years, my parents brought in over a hundred million just on the lease bonuses. That's when they bought this house. The royalties easily doubled in just the first two years of production, and like I said, they're still filing for permits to drill more.

"My dad did a very wise thing. He hired a financial adviser who specialized in windfall clients. You know, like lottery winners. There were a lot of people, especially in Tarrant County, who got rich overnight then went bankrupt a few years later because they overextended themselves.

"My parents included me in all of their consultations, even though most of them were when I was still in medical school. They wanted to make sure I was aware of everything and understood what was happening because he knew they were entering their twilight years. They both wanted to ensure I knew how to manage the estate when the time came.

"So I try my best to make sure my accounts grow, not shrink."

"Then why are you struggling to find money to do the research you want to do?"

She laughed. "Baby, it's not that simple. In most science fields, research can be paid for however the researchers can get the money. But anything dealing in human medical sciences is a different landscape. I can't finance my own research. It's unethical. There's no gray area there."

"Yeah, I can see how that could be a conflict of interest. But is it crossing the line for us to be involved? I mean, romantically? Isn't it the same thing?"

"I'm not following," she said with her brows furrowed.

"Well, if you choose to take the job as Director of Research at Children's, and if you choose to pursue your idea... Well... I'm basically funding your research... if we want to be romantically involved, isn't that crossing the line into the same sort of conflict?"

"I don't know. Let's cross that bridge when we get to it. It's a good question, but I think it's a different situation. I haven't even decided if I'm going to take the job. But, if I do, I'll file a case for review with whatever governing body is in charge of Oklahoma's medical ethics to find out."

"Yeah. Alright."

"Now, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Do you feel a little silly now? Because I sure do."

"What do you mean?"

"You were so guarded. So... worried about if I knew who you were... about what I'd think if I knew you were wealthy."

"Are you kidding?" He laughed hard, almost doubling over. "Of course I do! After everything you've just told me, I feel like I've been taken for a ride!"

"No , baby! Please don't think like that. I had no idea. I fell in love with Ordinary Eric, remember? Seriously."

"Well, I think I made the right choice given what little I knew about you. So, no, I don't feel silly. I was trying to protect myself, you know?"

"Yes. I understand completely," she said, then kissed him tenderly.

He started laughing again. "But I do feel silly for insisting you let me buy you clothes at the store a few weeks ago, and at a Wal-Mart , no less!"

"Thank god you did, honey. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be standing here right now. That generous, selfless act was what put the hook in front of me. And everything that followed is what snared me."

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "And that I know a lot more about you doesn't change anything. It only paints a clearer picture of an incredible person."

"I get it. Just being... I don't know the word... safe? Is safe right? We were in our safe spaces and look what it turned into. But... " he hesitated.

"But what?"

"Why didn't you tell me about this when you first learned about the 'me' you now know? I mean, now I realize what you meant when you said you weren't Cinderella or those other folks."

She thought for a few moments. "Did you find yourself attracted to Ordinary Peggy?"

"You bet your pretty little bottom I did."

"I guess I didn't want to spring it on you any differently than you sprung it on me."

"Good point," he admitted.

"Yeah." She smiled sweetly. "Come on. Let me give you the tour."

She walked him through the house. It wasn't an enormous palace, but the appointments and furnishings were perfectly harmonized to the surroundings. It was comfortable without being crazy. They were elegant yet tempered. The furnishings and florals equaled the beauty of the architecture. The house seemed to be about six thousand square feet in area. It held five bedrooms in addition to many other spaces. An exercise room included a treadmill, elliptical, and weight station. Another room had quilts hanging on racks as well as other things.

"Your mother's?" Eric asked, stroking one of the thick and visually comforting pieces.

"Yep. She loved quilting. She had bees here at least once a week when they were in residence. She and her friends probably made at least two hundred of them. They donated most of them to hospitals and long-term care facilities."

Eric noted several acoustic guitars hanging from hooks on one wall. He picked one up, tested its tuning, and began playing a bluesy riff. He tapped the body of the guitar in time, adding percussiveness to his ad libitum performance.

Peggy laughed and clapped her hands. "That was fantastic!"

"I started playing when I was like nine years old. My dad got me interested in it. I kind of gravitated towards blues because Dad was into rock and it pissed him off a little." He laughed. "Lance's mother introduced him to the same teacher. It's how he and I became friends almost thirty years ago."

He hung the guitar back on its pegs.

"Most of them were my mom's," she said, selecting a nylon-stringed one. "This one is mine."

She sat on a stool and began softly playing a classical Spanish ballad.

Eric was mesmerized. Her employment of rubato time and varied dynamics were exquisite. Her staccatos were crisp and firm, her legatos tender and soft. The effortlessness of her playing shined as the fingers of both hands moved with practiced ease and synchronicity. The thirty-two-bar passage brought goosebumps to his skin.

"Oh my god, Peggy," he whispered when the sustain of the last chord faded into the ambiance of the room. "That was... magnificent."

"Thanks," was her simple reply.

"I mean it. The way you play could make Rambo fall to his knees and weep."

"That's very, very sweet of you," she said, kissing him tenderly after re-hanging the guitar. "My mom taught me. I continue to play, not just because I like it, but to keep my fingers nimble. Kind of like calisthenics for the hands. It might be sacrilegious, but maybe you and I can figure out a way to merge blues and classical Spanish so we can play together."

He smiled happily at such a suggestion, and she turned the light out in the room as they left.

Two bedrooms had comfortably plush furnishings, giving them the appearance of guest rooms. Each had private en suite bathrooms. They passed one room without exploration, but Eric caught the scent of Peggy's perfume as they went by its door.

The master suite was bizarrely modest and basic. It didn't fit in with the rest of the house. Peggy noticed his expression.

"Yeah, I know. Mom and Dad didn't want this room to be anything out of their former standard of living. I've kept it just the way it was."

"You like it like this?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, but I don't sleep in here. It'd make me feel weird on so many different levels."

The kitchen had modern appliances, all in stainless steel. An assortment of restaurant-quality pots and pans hung from a rack over an island.

"This might entertain you," Peggy said as she opened a door situated near the kitchen.

It led to a large walk-in pantry, meagerly stocked. Peggy obviously didn't need much to prepare meals for one person. She led him through another door at the other end where the temperature dropped significantly, and the humidity increased.

Eric laughed. "Wow, Peg! Do you have a bit of a problem?"

"No, you jerk!" She playfully punched his shoulder. "My dad fancied himself an enthusiast. Thing is, he didn't have any clue just how good of a collector he was. I had the collection appraised when the estate was probated."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He waited a few seconds. "And?"

"At the time, it was worth a little under a million. It's appreciated about three hundred percent over what he paid for it all. He kept good records for tax purposes. The funny thing, though? He and Mom preferred boxed wine," she revealed with a chuckle.

"Sounds like your parents did a hell of a good job making sure you were left a sizable nest egg," Eric observed.

"They did. Fetch one of those bottles right there," she said, pointing to a specific cubby in one of the many racks.

He carefully removed a bottle of Two Hands Shiraz Ares, 2011.

"See? I told you I was familiar with the label," she said. "This was his last purchase. He bought four cases of it, at forty bucks per bottle. Stored properly like this, it's worth more than the 2014 vintage we shared at the steakhouse in Oklahoma."

He carefully replaced the bottle before she guided him to another set of doors across from the comfortable living area.

"Your ranch is your paradise. Welcome to mine," she said, turning on lights via an app on her phone.

The pool was beautiful. It was surrounded with natural rock coping everywhere except where ladders and steps allowed easy exit. It had soft underwater lighting, and the plantings and landscaping had dim lights situated within them giving the entire space an incredible visual ambiance.

"You want the whole shebang?" she asked.

He chuckled. "I have no earthly idea."

She tapped another icon and the environment roared to life with sound as water began cascading over rocks in waterfalls at least twelve feet high. The subtle scents of gardenia and jasmine were amplified when the air moved in response to the falling water.

"Oh, my word." Eric sighed. "It's incredible," he said with wide eyes.

"You think?"

"I do. But I have to ask a question."

"Why'd my parents buy a place like this?"

"Well, that, but I'm also wondering why every pool in the area is enclosed like yours is," he said, gesturing around the space. "At least, that's what I saw from the plane when I flew out of here a few weeks ago."

"Gators, dude," she said evenly. "The pool enclosures keep the alligators out."

He laughed. "Are you kidding?"

"Only a little. It's one of several ways of keeping them away, but I think most people choose the screened enclosures to keep mosquitoes out," she said, pulling his boyishly delighted form to her.

He clutched her affectionately.

"You want to take a dip?" she asked.

"I would, but I didn't think to pack any swimwear."

"Why does that matter?"

He watched as she stripped her body of her clothing, depositing all the items on a nearby lounge chair. She then walked down the steps into shoulder-deep water and came to where he was standing by the side.

"What are you waiting for? Come on in. The water is perfect," she said with a happy smile.

He needed no additional encouragement. He shucked his clothes and joined her in the pool.

"Follow me. This is my favorite spot," she said, moving farther into the pool's deeper reaches.

Ducking through a curtain of falling water, he felt like Alice disappearing down the rabbit hole into a wonderland.

The space concealed behind the waterfall was large enough to hold probably a dozen people comfortably. It even had its own patio with a table surrounded by six chairs. The furniture appeared to be made of meshed aluminum and stainless steel. Being located in a chlorine-rich environment, it made perfect sense to Eric. The LED lighting in the cave-like nook was warm yet intimate.

"Sweet," Eric said.

"Nifty, huh?" Peggy said, swimming up to and wrapping her limbs around him.

"I'll say. I'm imagining whoever built this paradise had lots of kids or grandchildren. I'll bet they loved this little hideaway."

"I don't know much about its history, but I do know it was only three years old when my parents bought it. The prior owners razed the houses on two lots and combined them before building this. I added a lot of automation and stuff a couple of years ago."

"You live here by yourself and have a paradise like this," he said, holding her bottom in his palms as he waded through the delightful hidden grotto.

"Yeah. I know. Crazy, right? But it's so awesome in here. Sometimes I'll bring my e-reader and a bottle of wine and lounge for hours . It's like nothing at all exists outside that shower of water. It makes the world and its stressors just go away. It feels very much like what I feel like now with you in here with me."

She gave Eric a slow, sensual kiss. They held each other gently in weightless buoyancy.

"Take a good look around and get your bearings. It'll be getting dark soon," she whispered softly into his ear, just over the sound of the showers of falling water.

"Huh? It's almost eleven o'clock and already dark."

She released herself from his easy grasp and swam to a small panel in a wall which held a half-dozen rubberized buttons. She reached across the flagstone ledge and pushed one. All of the lighting in the entire paradise extinguished. The world went completely black.

Peggy knew the interior of the grotto perfectly, and she knew the spot where Eric was standing was a location with very special properties.

"Polo," she said in a barely audible voice.

The sound bounced around the concave surfaces of the cave-like area and arrived from many directions simultaneously to Eric's ears.

"Whoa! Were are you?" he asked, completely unable to locate her by the voice coming from everywhere.

"Polo," she responded again to the unspoken call.

"Marco?" he beckoned, realizing she was beginning a game.

"Polo."

He thought about where he was and realized he must have been at the focus of the immense partial paraboloid, the only place where sound from almost any direction would be amplified. He visualized the geometry of the space in his mind's eye, and used the back-lit control pad as a reference. He moved to another position not far away.

"Marco."

"Polo," he heard somewhat more clear from a certain direction.

He repositioned himself once again.

"Marco."

"Polo," he heard distinctly in his right ear.

He deftly moved in that direction, opened his arms broadly and swept them inwardly, successfully snaring his easy prey.

He pulled his catch into him and met its lips slowly, carefully, perfectly.

"Marco," he whispered.

"Polo, my love." She kissed him.

"Have I told you today how much I love being with you? I. Love. You. So. Much."

His heart leapt in the easy utterance of his feelings.

"I love you, too, Eric." She sighed into him. "It feels so wonderful saying that," she whispered, her body incredibly relaxed as he held her.

He stroked her bottom, feeling its sculpted beauty.

"I want you to know my heart almost exploded in the plane when you said it. I've been so... I... I can't believe what has happened. This just seems so... impossible to describe," he said.

"I can't explain it either. The way you kissed me then felt so different. It was so loving. So honest. There was just the truest of affection in it. Just exactly what it needed to be. It scared the crap out of me how clearly it hit me. Everything about you seems so... hell, I don't know. I can't believe it myself."

"I guess we should be glad we're both clueless," he said, moving them through the water in constant contact as if in a slow dance.