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A day.
Katherine wrinkled her nose and stopped at the top of the indoor-outdoor stone staircase by her bedroom. More like two. She focused on the lush courtyard living room below, reminding herself for the thousandth time that she was not here for Santiago. She was here to see after Tariq’s well-being until Molly arrived. The comings and goings of Mr. Ibbara, in his own house, were of absolutely no concern to her, though she was pretty sure she’d finally heard him come back late last night.
Katherine pulled a face and forced her mind away from thoughts of he she would no longer name. Instead, she inhaled a calming breath of sea-filled air and descended the stairs, trying to decide if the area below was to be considered outdoor or indoor space. There were barely any walls to enclose the immense living area, a neat enclave of wooden chairs and couches surrounded an outdoor fireplace, all of it encircled by three open arched doorways big enough to drive a truck through. Yesterday, she'd followed each passageway to see how they led to other areas of the villas. The fourth wall was little more than a rampart that gave way to an expansive stone patio that overlooked the brilliant cerulean sea.
She had spent most of yesterday out on that patio, indulging in the warm sun and the clear blue sky, reviewing her research notes and handwritten bullet journal until the rain started to splatter the pages of her leather-bound book. Funny how her journal, the least tech thing she used, managed to make it through her unexpected travels and not her laptop, though she had had her journal in her hand that day in the limo. She rarely went anywhere without it, needing to be able to jot down thoughts and ideas about her new thesis statement as they came to her.
Tariq had been off with his cousins for the better part of the day, and she didn’t want to be a third wheel while he played. She probably smothered the poor boy enough without being like sticky glue on him when they were supposedly on holiday without any danger. This situation wasn’t like when she supervised his visits with Malik, and she felt compelled to be his shadow the whole time, stay everywhere he was and watch everyone around him. At this point, the worst had already happened. He’d been spirited away to a foreign country without his mother. The reason why she was a court-appointed supervisor in the first place.
Katherine gritted her teeth and clutched her leather notebook. Breathe, Katherine. Just keep breathing. Her fingers relaxed as she inhaled and exhaled, letting her worry run through her like a watershed. Her eyes went to her notebook. It had actually been nice to indulge in full journal writing by longhand again. Not having her laptop had forced her to scribble all of her thoughts out on paper, and not just the research and academic ones, but the cathartic process of pouring out and itemizing her personal thoughts on the crisp white pages. It calmed her down and let her put her crazy thoughts into order. After her disastrous one-day marriage over a year ago, she had started personal journaling, and after working out all of her anger and disappointment in herself at being taken in by Jon, her journal threads and lists naturally evolved into where she wanted to take her life. She’d grown tired of teaching early childhood students and had gone as far as she could go working on the floor with children in the nursery. She’d hit a career wall and needed to breakthrough with something new of her own.
Enter her sabbatical.
Katherine glanced at the enormous plants at the bottom of the stairs as she passed by, their leaves kept green and lush by the rainwater caught in the huge terracotta pots. She’d found Tariq down here yesterday, studying the water drops with some kind of bug on his finger. He’d been so excited for her to see his new pet as he carefully placed the little thing on a leaf.
Her godson was so innocent in his immediate love of this place, and she didn’t look forward to breaking the news to Molly that, in truth, her son was not at all traumatized by being carried away to his extended family. Quite the opposite so far. He’d taken to the change like a duck to water. Children were nothing if not resilient.
Katherine shook the conflicted thoughts from her mind as she stepped through the archway that led to the kitchens. "Oaf!" She collided with a small body. She looked down in time to see three other small bodies collide into the first one that hit her.
"Oh, excuse me, dama hermosa—" A little girl with wild, loose curls that escaped what was left of a long braid, looked up with a set of startled gray eyes. "Ouch!" She turned and glared at the three boys who tumbled against her back, one of whom was Tariq who looked a little sheepish standing at the end of the line of children.
Katherine hid a smile at the sight of her godson dressed in a pair of bright green swim trunks. Tariq hated anything green, from vegetables to grass. Where on earth, or, more like, who on earth convinced him to wear something that colour?
Katherine raised an eyebrow at the little leader. Dama hermosa? She filed away the new words for later. "And where are the four of you off to in such a hurry?"
"Swimming!" Tariq jumped from the line, unable to contain his excitement a moment longer. "But we have to sneak past Dora—"
"Donna Dora—" The little girl at the front turned to correct him. "And I’m the leader, and I say what we’re doing." She turned back to Katherine and rolled her eyes. "He’s new. I’m Olivia and I’m the leader because I’m the oldest, and my mama is Donna Stephanie. I’m eight and they’re just boys, and my mama told my papa that you are my uncle’s dama hermosa; is that true?"
Katherine blinked. "I—am?"
"Yes, even Donna Dora said so and—" Olivia jumped backward. "Uncle Luken, you found us!"
The four children stared up as Luken strode through the archway. He winked at Katherine before he turned his full attention to the children. "Of course, I have. I’ve been dodging the Donna long before you four were born." He leaned down and whispered. "And I know a secret... that she is coming—"
In a flash, four little bodies streaked off through the archway and down the stairs. Katherine stared after them, bewildered. Maybe she should follow them?
"We will not see them for the rest of the day," Luken chuckled as the children disappeared down one of the outdoor pathways.
Katherine frowned as she watched them go. Just because Tariq was comfortable didn’t mean he should run wild.
"Do not worry about them." Luken nudged her. "The Donna’s nieces are out by the pool. They will watch them. The children will be fine."
Katherine looked toward the patio, which she knew overlooked the spa-inspired infinity pool and subsequently the sea. She had met the Donna’s nieces yesterday, and though they were young, younger than Katherine, two of them were already veteran mothers to the children who had just scampered off. "Tariq isn’t a very good swimmer," Katherine noted. "He barely passed level two in his lessons."
Luken raised an eyebrow. "Lessons?"
"Yes." She thought absently about her luggage. Was her swimsuit in there? She hadn’t really packed anything for this impromptu trip and didn’t have plans to go swimming during her sabbatical; her intention was to research, study, and take evidential photographs of children learning through play to cement her new thesis. Swimming and lounging about a pool hadn’t factored into her plans.
She looked at the expectant expression on Luken’s face. "I’m sorry?" Heat prickled her cheeks. She had obviously drifted away from whatever he was saying.
"Is everything alright? I think I lost you there for a moment." Luken tilted his head. "Swimming lessons? Tariq?"
"Oh." She grimaced. "No, he hasn’t had many lessons."
Luken gave her a thoughtful look. "When Grandfather decided we should swim, he simply threw us into the sea."
"What?" Katherine widened her eyes. "Seems a bit... extreme."
Luken chuckled. "Perhaps. But there are many things I want to see and learn about in your country that I am told are ... extreme. Things very different from how they are done here."
"Really?" Katherine became intrigued. "Like what?"
Luken rubbed his chin. "The skating canal. Ice hockey played in the street. And freezing rain."
She rolled her eyes and laughed. He had just mixed up a bunch of famous Canadian winter activities. "First of all, believe me, you don’t want to see freezing rain. It totally sucks and can be deadly to drive in. Hockey’s cool though, but we don’t play ice hockey in the street, you’re thinking of pond hockey, where people play on frozen ponds and lakes. We play street hockey in the street without all the equipment, but skating on the canal is always fun."
A playful light jumped into Luken’s eyes. "See. There is so much you can teach me and show me when I go there. I am sure my cousin does nothing but work when he’s in Canada. He is a complete wet blanket."
You have no idea. Katherine smiled at Luken’s infectious animation of Santiago. "Just make sure you come in winter, because contrary to popular belief, we do not have snow and ice all year round."
Luken bent his elbow to her. "So I was just coming to find you. I have strict instructions from my cousin to show you around the countryside in his absence."
"Oh?"
"Yes. He is preparing to leave for Donostia again—" he paused then explained. "our name for San Sebastian, our capital city. Business there will, of course, keep him for a day or two." They walked through the villa, taking stairs and corridors she was unfamiliar with until the sound of the outdoors and falling water grew louder as they walked.
Sunshine and heat engulfed Katherine as they rounded a final corner and came upon the villa’s main gates. She definitely didn’t come this way yesterday at all. She would have remembered the expansive of the front entrance and gateway. Luken took her hand as they crossed onto a set of wide stone stairs that led down to the circular laneway outside, a lemon-yellow Land Rover sat beside a massive stone and marble water fountain, a spectacular centerpiece in the circular driveway.
Katherine stared at the powerful-looking stone statue of a bull and a man on one knee, the bull snorting water from its flared nostrils.
"His father, my uncle Danel, was a famous matador, and that bull almost killed him before it saved his life."
Katherine raised her eyebrows and looked at Luken. "There's a story there."
Luken gestured with his hand toward the yellow vehicle. "It is a long story. One I know my cousin would prefer to tell you."
Katherine looked back at the bull, stone fire in its hard eyes, the man down on one knee, with the matador flag gripped in one hand, his other hand and arm outstretched as if he offered himself to the bull’s murderous horns.
Luken continued talking. "My cousin could be longer in Donostia if Vanessa finally tracks him down."
Katherine looked back at Luken. Vanessa? She kept her features neutral even though an elusive emotion, annoyingly like jealousy, crowded her heart. "I see. And who’s Vanessa?" She casually turned and looked over the low-rise stone wall that ran the length of the courtyard before it disappeared behind a cluster of trees. Beyond the trees lay a picturesque hillside with endless stretches of rolling green before the sky seemed to touch the rich earth in the distance.
Katherine pursed her lips. Vanessa. She had spent a better part of yesterday exploring the villa with Tariq until his cousins arrived and he dashed off to play with them. In his absence, Katherine met and spoke to Santiago’s four uncles, a gaggle of aunts and cousins, and over a dozen generational family friends who seemed to live or work in the extensive villa, many walking from the surrounding houses or fields to have lunch at Dona Dora’s table.
No one had presented herself as Vanessa. Katherine rolled the name over in her mind then kicked it from her thoughts. Everyone she’d met so far was an older male or female version of Santiago, which left little mystery as to what her godson would look like in ten, twenty, or even thirty years’ time. The entire family shared similar looks leaving no doubt that Tariq was a part of them.
Katherine looked back from the fields. All of the men she’d met had been extremely polite, taking off their hats when they spoke, though she could see piqued curiosity behind their warm eyes. The women were not so shy and peppered her with questions about how she met or knew the Don, their cousin, uncle or nephew. Santiago had so much family, each person probably wondering how Vanessa would react to Katherine’s presence in his villa slash kingdom.
Katherine scowled as Luken opened the passenger side door for her.
"We will go out to the wine country." He announced.
Katherine started to get inside the car then hesitated. She looked back at the villa as the sound of children splashing in the pool drifted down to her. She really shouldn’t leave Tariq. Even though she knew he was fine, her purpose for being there was to look after him. Taking off to wine country wasn’t sitting well with her. "I probably shouldn’t leave. Tariq is going to wonder where I am and..." Molly’s incredulity that she’d leave him soured her thoughts.
You left him ALONE? Katherine could practically hear her best friend’s dramatic accusatory outcry.
Luken sighed. "My cousin warned me that you would say exactly that, so I am to show you that my vehicle is low jacked," he pulled a flat device from his pocket. "Dona are you there?" He pressed a button and spoke into the device.
"Bai. I am cooking. What do you want?" Dona Dora’s voice was clear with exasperation.
"Just checking." Luken tucked the device back into his pocket. "He wanted you to be at ease with leaving."
Katherine narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I bet he did."
A long black car drifted past them and stopped just beyond the stone water fountain.
The driver swung out, quickly rounded the car, and pulled open the back door. Katherine’s lips parted as a long pair of killer legs unfolded from the back seat as the driver reached for an outstretched, very feminine hand, adorned with gold bangles from wrist to elbow. Katherine leaned forward as a woman who could only be described as the world’s next top supermodel emerged from the car in a whoosh of stunning black hair, cut in a freestyle swing that eventually settled onto a set of curved shoulders that led to an impeccably postured, naked back. There was absolutely nothing to the thin, gold tank top that draped in wide folds and fluttered over the woman’s upturned, clearly naked breasts.
Guess bras are optional in Basque Country.
The woman’s outfit was completed with a pair of slim black pants and spike-heeled, strappy gold sandals. She tossed her hair and looked up the villa steps from beneath a pair of oversized sunglasses.
Katherine raised an eyebrow at Luken. "Vanessa?"
"Vanessa." Luken nodded.
Katherine gnashed her teeth as Santiago jogged down the steps and immediately put his hands on the woman’s bare shoulders. He leaned down and dropped a kiss on each of her cheeks before he stood back and nodded approvingly. The woman laughed and outstretched her arms, her naked breasts bouncing. Santiago took her hand and gestured toward the villa entrance. With a quick look at the driver, the couple started up the stairs, leaving the driver to wait by the car.
"Wow." Katherine couldn’t stop staring at the scene before her.
Luken chuckled. "Yes, that is typical Vanessa. Quite a flair for the dramatic, but don’t let it fool you. She is one of the most sought-after professionals in her business."
"I bet." Katherine barked a laugh. The sound must have echoed because Santiago stopped on the top step and turned. He looked over at Katherine and Luken. His body tensed as his dark eyes flicked from his cousin to her then back to Luken. Luken grinned and gave a little wave before Santiago turned and walked into the villa.
"Nice," Katherine snorted.
Luken chuckled again before he guided her onto the front seat of the waiting car. "One thing to understand about my cousin is that he is a very old soul in a young man’s body."
"Meaning?"
"He is famously traditional, more so than our elderly men."
His plans with Vanessa did not look traditional. Though, Katherine considered that for a moment, maybe they were. Hadn’t men and women been doing that kind of traditional thing with professionals for centuries? She pursed her lips and forced her gaze out the front windshield. What did she care if he spent the afternoon draped in bed with a beautiful woman? She had other things to do than worry about his hot body being pleasured by some professional's well-toned one, a professional he had clearly sent for and planned to thoroughly enjoy.
Luken slid into the driver’s seat. "What my cousin needs is a wayward wife or daughter to shake up his overly controlled, traditional life."
Katherine snorted.
Luken continued. "The women in my cousin’s life all do as he says. Of course, he is a very eligible, very wealthy bachelor. They all clamour for a space in his bed."
Katherine sighed. She did not want to hear this. She leaned on her hand and stared out the side window. "So, he’s quite the lady’s man, is he?"
"Yes. But in the traditional way. He what you Americans call ‘plays the field’ until he decides to settle down. We all know that when he takes a wife, he will choose a conservative one, a Basque woman, born and raised, to fall in line with tradition. One who will obey his will and not allow any of his daughters to date until after she is married."
Katherine couldn’t help laughing. "I definitely like you, Luken. You make me laugh."
"Good," he replied and started the engine. "Then we are to be good co-conspirators for the afternoon."