Sparring Partners(6)
Their honeymoon had been a low-budget trip to the Caribbean eleven years earlier, Jake’s first and only trip abroad. Carla’s parents were more affluent and she had spent a month in Europe with a group of students. Nothing, though, could ever compare to this.
Late in the day, the other guests, all adults, gathered by the pool and watched a glorious sunset. Dinner was nearby on a patio—fresh-baked lobster with fresh organic vegetables, grown right down the road on the lodge’s own little farm. Afterward, they retired to the Sky Lounge, a hideaway flooded with stars, and danced to the beat of a local band.
They slept late the following morning and almost missed the whale boat, a large converted pontoon that also served breakfast, lunch, and drinks. The day was spent in the sun, searching for whales. The captain apologized when they saw nothing but dolphins.
Late that night, as they lay in bed, exhausted, Carla finally broached the obvious subject. “So, no sign of Mack?”
“No. Not yet. But I get the impression he’s close by.”
Day Three was spent on horses, not Jake’s favorite way to travel, but the group was enthusiastic and the guide was a comedian. He talked nonstop as he pointed out exotic birds, spider monkeys, and flowers that could not be found anywhere else in the world. They stopped at hot springs, waterfalls, and enjoyed a full three-course lunch, with wine, at the edge of a volcano. Three thousand feet up, and the views of the Pacific were even more spectacular.
Day Four was a whitewater rafting trip in the morning and a knee-buckling zip line adventure in the afternoon, interrupted by a delicious riverside brunch of tropical fruit and rum punch. Late in the day, as they showered and prepared for the rigors of dinner, the phone rang. Jake limped to it, his crotch still unsettled from six hours in the saddle the day before, and said hello.
It was Mack, finally. They had almost forgotten about him. “Hello, Jake, good to hear your voice.”
“And good to hear yours.” Jake nodded at Carla who smiled and returned to the bathroom.
“I trust you guys are having fun.”
“Indeed we are. Thanks for the hospitality. Not a bad place to spend a week.”
“No, not at all. Look, I figure y’all might need some downtime tomorrow, so I’ve arranged a day at the spa, with all the works. Carla will love it. Could you meet me for lunch?”
“I can probably work you into my schedule.”
“Good. How’s the food so far?”
“Unbelievable. I haven’t eaten this well since I had catfish at Claude’s last week.”
“I remember Claude. How’s he doing these days?”
“The same. Not much has changed, Mack.”
“I’m sure. At the front of the lodge you’ll see a dirt path next to a sign for the Barillo Trail. You’ll walk about half a mile through the rain forest and see another sign for the Kura Grille. All of the tables are outside, nice views and such. I have one reserved for one o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And let’s keep Carla out of our conversations, okay? She won’t mind, will she?”
“No, not at all.”
“She’ll have a busy day at the spa with lunch by the pool.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Good. Can’t wait to see you, Jake.”
“Same here.”
(9)
Mack forgot to mention that the Barillo Trail curved upward, always upward, and after a few minutes Jake felt like he was climbing a mountain, which indeed he was. The half-mile trek seemed more like two miles and he stopped twice to catch his breath. He was winded and frustrated that, at the age of only thirty-eight, he was in such bad shape. Long gone were the endless wind sprints of high school football.
There were no vehicles to be seen at the café—only a few bikes. He was sweating when he walked by the bar and onto the deck. Mack was waiting at a table under a large colorful umbrella. They shook hands and settled in.
“You’re looking good,” Mack said, his words a bit crisper, the drawl having been flattened out of his speech.
“And so are you.” Jake wasn’t sure he would have recognized him on the street. Mack was now forty-five and his salt-and-pepper hair was much longer. His neat beard was more gray than dark brown. He wore round tortoiseshell glasses and could have passed for a handsome college professor. He was also leaner than Jake remembered.
Jake said, “Thanks for the trip and the hospitality. This place is incredible.”
“First trip to Costa Rica?”
“Yes it is. Hope it’s not the last.”
“You’re welcome back anytime, Jake, as my guest.”
“You must know the owner.”
“I am the owner. One of three. Eco-tourism has become a big deal down here and I bought in a year ago.”
“So you live around here?”
“Here and there.” His first evasive answer, the first of many. Jake didn’t pursue it.
“How’s the family?” Mack asked.
“Couldn’t be better. Carla is still teaching, Hanna is in the third grade, growing up fast. Luke’s a year old.”
“Never heard of Luke.”
“We adopted him. A long story.”
“I have some of those.”