A Life Separate: Together

Chapter 3

Chapter 3The next morning, I got up and made coffee. Just as I was finishing up and putting everything on a tray, Cindy walked into the kitchen. “I was just coming with the coffee and some fruit.”

“Warren, do you think we could have it out on the terrace again. I can’t get enough of the view.”

“Of course.”

The house was built around 1580. It has two floors built on top of what were years ago small barns for the cows. When restoring the house, I had those old barns converted to a library and a wine cellar. From the yard in front of the wine cellar, you take stairs up to the front door. You enter the house on the second floor. The second floor consists of a stairway to the third floor, a large living room, a kitchen, a bathroom and a small office next to the kitchen. Across from the kitchen are French doors that lead out to a terrace. The terrace is about twelve feet wide and runs the length of the building. The third floor has a large sitting room, a bathroom and two large bedrooms. The master bedroom has French doors that lead to a terrace as well. This terrace, like the one downstairs, runs

the length of the building, and forms a ceiling for the terrace below.

Carrying the tray, I followed Cindy out the doors to the terrace. We sat enjoying the cool morning and view, drinking our coffee in silence. Unexpectedly she asked. “Warren, do you think people are born intuitive or is it a learned skill?”

“I think we all have it. Some of us to a greater degree than others. Like most skills, if not practiced it diminishes over time. My Grandmother taught me to use and trust it. I would be staying with her for a weekend; I would think to myself, I’d like some juice. Before I could ask she would smile and go get it. I learned to be careful around her and never try to lie. She also taught me to play cards, as a way to practice my intuitive skills. We would play poker with matchsticks, kind of a tutoring lesson. She could always tell what cards I had. After a while I began to trust my gut about her cards. Then the most important lesson of all. She would call my bet and raise, challenging me. Instead of folding, I could sence she didn’t have the right cards to win and would go all in and lose. It taught me that sometimes a skilled person would send you false information. I have developed little tests to check whether someone is doing that. For instance, I can tell you are very intuitive. How did you come by it?”

“I don’t know. I always had it. It was a long time before I realized not everyone communicated at that level,” replied Cindy.

“Cindy, I think everyone does communicate at that level, most just don’t realize it. When my older boy was young, I coached one of his basketball teams. I would stand out of bounds with a player in front to block an inbound pass. I would put two players behind him, one on his left and one on his right. I’d tell him I was going to pass the ball to the player on his right, and instruct him to block it. I would pass the ball to the player on his right over and over again. After about ten minutes of this, I’d gather the team and explain why he missed blocking the pass. It was because he was listening to my intuitive voice and not reacting to the ball movement. Some understood and some did not.”

“What you’re saying Warren, is you would tell him verbally you were passing to the right and intuitively you communicated you were going to pass to the left?”

“Exactly, Cindy. He would start to react to the left, and by the time he recovered, the ball was just past him. I would instruct the players how important it is at times to shut up the intuitive communication.”

“Gosh Warren, I never thought about it in those terms. I mean I have never considered how someone could use what I thought was my gift against me. That gives me a lot to think about.”

“Cindy, last night you asked me about my writing. Have you been writing?”

“I have, Warren. In fact, on my return home, I’m releasing an album of twelve love songs I wrote. Do you remember when we were running from the FBI three years ago, and our conversation about destiny? You told me about Winston Churchill? We laughed about being caught, and you writing a book from Guantanamo.”

“I do.”

Cindy went on. “Churchill said he realized his whole tumultuous life was preparing him for his destiny, and saving England was it. You also said a curious thing. You said maybe all that we were going through was preparing us for our destiny. Well, I think you were right. You have a bestselling book and I have new songs.”

“So, tell me about your songs.”

Cindy’s mood changed, and in a quieter reflective tone, she said, “After we were released from jail and returned home, I also started reliving what you and I had gone through. I realized I never really understood what real love was until what we went through. I started writing songs that described what I was feeling about you when we were trying to escape the terrorists. Love conquers all was no longer a cliché. It had real meaning for me. I started writing and after the second year, I had many songs. Six months ago, I picked the twelve best and decided to record a demo of love songs. I rented some studio time, and was working through one of the songs, when after the session, a gentleman was waiting. He approached me and gave me a card. He was next door producing a new artist, and they finished early. On his way out, he stopped and listened to what I was doing and liked it. He wanted to sign me to a contract and produce my album. I followed my intuition and said ok. It’s due for release this month.”

I was delighted and excited for her. “Cindy,” I said, “That is great! What great news, and what is the title of the album.”

“Your Love Carried Me Through. This brings me to a favor I need. The producer is waiting for me to approve an album cover. I wanted to talk to you first which is one of the reasons I looked you up. I would like to use your photograph that was in the safe house. The one titled Badwater. It was our last night together, but more than that, it reminds me of the last three years. The scene appears so lonely and yet not. It was how I felt being away from you, alone but never lonely”

“I’m honored that you want to use it, so of course you can.”

The rest of the morning, we talked about her song writing.

Around noon I put a quiche in the oven that I bought at the bakery for our lunch. The rest of the afternoon, we sat around eating quiche, drinking wine and enjoying each other’s company. I had been living alone for so long, I had forgotten how much I enjoy a woman’s company and point of view. Women see the world so differently from men. We talked about all kinds of things as we did when we drove across the west three years ago. We were lost in the enjoyment of each other’s company.

Suddenly I realized it was getting late and our guest would be arriving soon. “Cindy it’s getting late. What would you like to do for dinner?”

“Are you joking, Warren? We’ve finished off a whole quiche and three bottles of wine this afternoon.”

I thought for a moment and replied. “How about I prepare a tray of salami, Prosciutto, and cheese for when our guest arrives?” I got up and headed for the kitchen with Cindy following. Entering the house, I went straight to the bar. I opened the cabinet and set out the Gin and two martini glasses. I turned to Cindy and said, “Would you make the martinis while I prepare the tray?”

Smiling and shaking her head, she said, “I forgot how much you like an early evening martini.”

“I haven’t forgotten how well you make them.” I finished the tray and set it on the kitchen counter with a bottle of wine and three wine glasses. When I turned, and walked out of the kitchen Cindy was standing with two very cold martinis and we headed back out to the terrace.