Gerrie Nelson - Lab Notes

Her shocked eyes even overlooked the gilded grand piano, fastening themselves onto the larger-than-life painting on the wall behind it. It was a portrait of her .

The small nightclub orchestra had been brought to the grand hall from Aruba for after-dinner dancing.

It was only the second time Diane and Gabriel had danced together, but to the others present, including the staff, it appeared that Gabriel, striking in his white linen suit, and Diane, the elegant yanqui , had been practicing for years.

Diane was unaware of the onlookers’ appraising eyes. She was focused entirely on the Latin rhythms of Perfidia and on Gabriel’s hands turning her to the side, drawing her back, expertly guiding her to the slow tempo of the bolero.

Gabriel twirled Diane then smoothly pulled her to him. “You played Granada beautifully along with the guitarist.” He said. “You made my father cry. That is a rarity.”

She looked over Gabriel’s shoulder toward the grand piano and the portrait hanging over it. “Did your Mother play the piano?”

“She was quite accomplished at it.”

Diane pulled her head back and looked up at him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that I bear a strong resemblance to her?”

His face blanched like someone caught in a lie, and he glanced away. Then he nodded as though he had made up his mind about something and looked back at Diane. “At our first meeting, I was too stunned to mention it. But after that… How does one tell a beautiful woman that she looks like his Mother?”

Carlos insisted on accompanying the guests to the helicopter after a late evening dessert aboard the yacht. Diane and Gabriel sat in the stern cockpit watching them climb the stairs from the marina as the macaws squawked and fluttered. A flash of lightning lit up the black northern sky, but the sound of thunder didn’t reach them.

Diane turned to Gabriel. “It looks like the rainy season is approaching.”

“We do not usually get rain as you can tell by the foliage. We can get damaging lightning though. But as in most other places, the weather has been changing.”

The red-headed bodyguard approached from the side deck, and Gabriel motioned toward their champagne glasses. They watched Michael step into the main salon to summon a crew member, then Diane said, “Your father is quite charming.”

Gabriel’s glance slipped past her, up to Carlos’s hacienda on the bluff, but he remained silent.

Diane persisted. “I should say he’s charming to everyone but you.” Still no response. She waited, studying his profile.

Finally Gabriel could no longer resist her glance. He swiveled his chair toward her. His eyes narrowed. “What do you want from me?”

Diane was slightly taken back. She shrugged. “A reply, I suppose.”

“I did not hear a question mark.”

“I’ll rephrase then—”

Gabriel waved her off impatiently. “Never mind. Never mind.” He sat forward in his seat. “You know what? You not only look like my Mother, you act like her. Every crevice of the mind must be excavated. Nothing is off-limits.”

Diane sat back in her chair pursing her lips. It seemed she had hit a trip wire. She sat silently berating herself for nosing around in a highly charged father-son relationship—and probably ruining her opportunity to inquire about Gabriel’s BRI stock. But then, she was writing off BRI wasn’t she? So its ownership was no longer of any consequence to her.

A crew member showed up with the champagne. At Gabriel’s slight finger motion, he poured, then left the bottle and ice bucket and retreated.

Gabriel stood and offered Diane a bubbling flute, but remained silent.

She took a sip, then said softly, “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Gabriel walked to the stern rail. The wind had piped up. Waves splashed through the marina entrance, then foamed and hissed in retreat.

Staring out over the water, Gabriel said solemnly: “Our relationship—family as well as business—changed after my little brother’s death… It was an accident… But I blamed others. I did not cause it, but my father knew that only I could have prevented it. Within the year, my mother died of a broken heart.”

Diane swiveled slowly in her chair and touched the back of Gabriel’s arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

After a few moments, Gabriel spoke. The smile had returned to his voice. “Twenty-six years and this is the first time I have allowed this conversation.” He turned away from the rail and pointed to Diane. “You have spent too much time among the shamans. You are a sorceress.” He walked past her holding his hand out behind him. “Come with me. You will enjoy the night view from the cliffs.”

Diane stood, hesitated a moment, then reached for his hand.

Diane and Gabriel rode in the open jeep to the northern cliffs, more than half way across the island. From there they watched in awe as veins of lightning extinguished themselves in the sea. But soon rumbling thunder signaled the storm’s approach, and they knew it was time to leave.

Gabriel backed the jeep away from the cliffs just as a lightning ball and thunderclap exploded overhead.

“That was too close,” he shouted turning the vehicle onto the perimeter road heading east. He pointed to Diane’s lap. “Buckle your seatbelt.”

Diane’s hair stood up and her nostrils curled at the smell of ozone. The sky roared. Wind pelted them with dirt. Then the rains came.

The headlights became useless, and they had to stop. Then strobe flashes of lightning outlined Gabriel’s villa ahead, and they pressed on.

As they neared the house, the wind shifted, and they were pelted from behind. They jumped from the jeep and made for the entry, grappling with torrents of water and debris flung their way.

Sanctuary at last. Diane shivered inside her cocoon of wet silk while Gabriel shouldered the doors against the wind.

The electricity was out, but intermittent shafts of lightning illuminated the enormous room before her. She turned and surveyed the stone and leather space. Its masculinity comforted her, and awakened a yearning.

As Gabriel approached her, flashes of lightning revealed her face, but she made no attempt to disguise the need in her eyes.

“You are shivering,” he said in a husky voice as he reached toward her.

Diane was certain that lightning had entered the room, striking the precise point, just above her elbow, where Gabriel placed his hand on her arm, electrifying her being, converting her chills to uncontrolled trembling.

“Gabriel, I…

Gently, he turned her toward a hallway. “Come; let me find you a towel and something dry to wear.”

Diane refused Gabriel’s invitation to spend the entire night with him. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing Carlos if, after breakfast, he encountered her—an alley cat tiptoeing in, attired in Gabriel’s clothing.

They rode in silence while Gabriel focused on the road ahead. The rain had stopped, but he was kept busy dodging debris blowing across their path.

Approaching Carlos’ hacienda, Diane was grateful to see that electric power had been restored. She’d had macabre visions of groping along in the darkened mansion with the small flashlight Gabriel had given her.

Parking at the fountain, Gabriel jumped from the jeep and walked Diane to the back entrance. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. Then he stepped back and studied her face. “Not to worry. I am sure my father has been in a deep sleep for hours. Besides that, you are his guest, not his teenage daughter arriving home past curfew.”

Diane smiled, tenderly touched Gabriel’s cheek and promised she’d visit him before she left the island later that day.