"This is just becoming more and more unreal!" exclaimed Angela. The group of four young women, all looking slightly rumpled in their dark jeans and professional tops, were gathered in the arrivals hall of the Los Angeles airport. All had slightly tensed shoulders and round eyes.
"She had someone come meet us?" Carrie's surprised tone mirrored Angela's. The someone in question was a dark-skinned man, whose clean, well-tailored clothing was almost at odds with his tan skin and rough-looking hands. He looked to be anywhere between 50 and 60 years old. He stood slightly apart from the other chauffeurs and limo drivers that had all congregated in a tight mass behind the rope barrier.
The women would have passed right over him had he not approached them after they had made their way into the main part of the hall and said quietly, "Miss Blackwood sends her greetings, and has asked me to provide you ladies with a ride directly to the house. Is this agreeable?"
The suddenness and formality of the greeting momentarily stunned the young women. Their surprise, coupled with the rising emotions that accompany an arrival in an unfamiliar territory, caused Angela, the most uninhibited, to blurt out her exclamation. The man merely smiled in response to Carrie's surprised question and introduced himself as Michael Cathurt. He proceeded to help the women collect their luggage and escorted them to a waiting Cadillac, windows as black as the paint job.
The four women slid into the two rows of seats facing each other, Angela and Carrie across from Mia and Tanya. Their apprehension began to dissipate as the women began to chat and admire the sunny, coastal feel of Los Angeles in the summer. They had formed a close friendship while attending Foxcroft in Virginia, but had lost touch slightly as they each pursued separate careers. So when Angela decided that it would be a good idea to catch up, she contacted her former group of friends and all had enthusiastically voiced their approval of a reunion. The first surprise came when Arya had offered her house as a place to stay and invited the women down to Los Angeles for a week of activities. Arya had always stood slightly apart from the other four girls, been closest to Mia, but always held herself at a slight distance. It wasn't that there was any animosity between the girls, they had always been admired for their close bond. It was simply that Arya had been more restrained around others. However, Arya's distance had withheld some of the popularity the other girls possessed. So naturally, Arya's generous offer came as a surprise to everyone.
The Cadillac wound through the downtown area of LA, and the women peered out the windows, occasionally squealing like little girls when they thought they saw a famous actor or singer. Eventually, they left the main downtown area behind and wound into a more residential neighborhood. All kinds of houses, both traditional mansions and modern glass buildings, lined the street. Some houses were hidden by tall hedges or trees, while others simply couldn't be seen because the driveways were too long or curved. Winding through the neighborhood, gates that marked the beginnings of driveways soon became less frequent as the car progressed slowly up into the foothills of the mountains the women had seen from the airplane. Finally, they arrived at a simple black iron gate, tastefully flanked by two towering elms. Michael reached out his window and entered a numerical code into the waiting code box, and after a short pause and a beep, pressed his thumb into a grey rectangle next to the number keys. The box beeped again and the iron gate swung smoothly inward.
The four women peered anxiously out the windows as the Cadillac wound slowly up the driveway. Tall, slender trees lined the driveway, leaves gently quivering in the light breeze. After a long, minute, a large house suddenly loomed from the top of a slight hill. A tasteful mix of stone and tan, the color scheme, coupled with a large lawn and elegant landscaping, combined to give the house a welcoming atmosphere, despite its rather intimidating size. The car stopped at the foot of the broad set of stone steps leading up to the front door. Michael began unloading the luggage from the trunk and refused any assistance when the women tried to help. This left them ample time to admire the house and talk quietly amongst themselves.
"I knew Arya's practice was successful enough for her to be able to move down here," whispered Tanya, "but I never imagined anything like this."
"And I was skeptical at her invitation to house all of us," joined Carrie. "Now I just feel like judgmental teenager."
The others agreed, each stating her surprise at Arya's obvious success. Always the quiet one, all the women had known about Arya's career was that she had done extremely well all throughout medical school and her residency, and had landed a job soon after at a major hospital in Washington D.C. They had only heard about her move until right before she left, and barely anything since then. Their admiration was interrupted as Michael quietly approached them and asked them if they would like to come inside.
They followed him up the stairs and through the cavernous oak door into a spacious foyer. To the left, a polished staircase wound slowly up to the upper floors, while at the end of the foyer they could see a sparsely furnished room whose main attraction was a wide set of double glass doors that looked out on a sweeping lawn and a backyard. It was through these two doors that Michael led the women, and they stepped out onto the stone patio that ran the length of the house. There was an entertaining area complete with a table and cooking area and another set of stone steps led off the patio to a sunken pool that was landscaped to resemble a natural pond. The patio ended right where the lush grass started, and swept outward until it reached the woods a few hundred yards from the back of the house. A dirt path could be seen leading into the airy and light-filled woods, next to a long wooden building.
"She must still be out," remarked Michael, somewhat startling the women out of their awed daze. He pulled a walkie-talkie off of a rugged belt they hadn't seen him put on, and spoke into it "Miss Blackwood, your guests have arrived and are waiting on the back patio." Several seconds past, punctuated by bursts of static, before a familiar voice emanated clearly out of the walkie-talkie, "Thank you Michael, I shall be there shortly." Angela turned around slightly to anticipate Arya's arrival out of the house, but Michael remained with his back to the house, his eyes locked on the woods.
It wasn't long before a distant pattering was heard from the trees, and suddenly a horse burst out, pounding along the path and onto the grass. The rider slowed him to a gentle canter as she rode the remaining yards to the house. When she was about 15 feet away, Arya swung easily to the ground and Michael moved forward to take the reins from her. The black horse shifted as he approached, but Arya stroked his neck once and he calmed immediately. As she handed the reins to Michael, she said, "walk him around for a little please, I didn't have time to give him a cool down." Her voice rang forth in a way the other women immediately recognized, cool, clear, commanding, and with a slight lilt that hinted at a beautiful singing voice. Michael nodded and moved away, as Arya turned toward her guests. She wore tightly fitting, flexible khaki riding pants tucked into dark leather boots, with a crisp white shirt contrasting starkly with her midnight hair. Her outfit accented her lithe, slender figure and brought out the dazzling emerald of her eyes. She strode the remaining steps toward her former classmates, and stopped in front of them and said with a quick smile, "It's great to see you all again! How was your flight?" Her friends quickly responded, and hugs were given all around, although Arya limited them to a brief second or two.
Soon the women made their way indoors and into the modern kitchen that was connected to the patio by another set of double glass doors. They sat informally around the island, and over glasses of ice tea, chatted in an attempt to catch up. The visitors noticed that Arya seemed to have relaxed slightly in her new environment, although she tensed occasionally when certain memories of ex-boyfriends or former friends were mentioned. The visitors were able to glean, however, certain details of Arya's new life. She had moved to L.A. to work for a world-renowned doctor, and had flourished so much under his guidance that he had asked her to become his official partner. She had taken the week off to relax from her hectic schedule. Soon the women realized that the time had passed until it was now mid-afternoon. Arya graciously offered to let them take an hour or so to get settled in, then decide on how to spend the rest of the day.
"Michael will have taken all your luggage up to your rooms already. I've put all of you on the third floor. I'm on the second in case you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." And so she led them up the stairs to a long hallway of doors, and walked down it pointing out rooms for each of her guests. They each slowly disappeared into their separate rooms, amid faint cries of admiration for the comfort and decoration of the living quarters. Arya then proceeded to her own suite on the second floor and changed into shorts and a light, comfortable top. She walked out the back patio and encountered Michael, greeting him with a quick hello and a request to point her guests in the direction of the stable when they came downstairs an hour later.
The other four women all emerged from their rooms at the same time and walked softly down the stairs until they reached the doors leading to the patio. They walked outside, enjoying the invigorating feel of the sun on their shorts-clad legs. Michael saw them from where he was repairing what appeared to be an outdoor fire pit, and called, "she's in the stable, that building over there," pointing to the wooden building the women had noticed earlier. They set out across the bright green grass until they stood in front of the two stable doors, thrown wide open in the warm summer weather. At the far end of the stable they saw Arya brushing down her black gelding, with her back to them. The gelding butted his nose into Arya's shirt front, and she broke into a peal of clear, melodic laughter. All the women reacted with surprise, they couldn't remember the last time they had heard Arya laugh. Finally, Angela said casually, "Hey Arya!" Arya spun around in surprise, but quickly relaxed and waved them inside.
"Sorry I didn't see you guys there! Oh, by the way, this is Jupiter. He's very friendly once he gets to know you. You can let him sniff your hand and he'll probably let you pet his nose."
One by one the women approached the horse and let him sniff their hands. They then cautiously proceeded to stroke him, while Arya kept an arm wrapped around his neck, stroking him. After, Arya led him into his large stall and the women walked out of the barn into the calm summer afternoon.
"So, what do we want to do tonight? If you're tired, we can go out to a restaurant for an early dinner and then come back, or, some of my colleagues from work are throwing a party down on the beach with a barbeque. What do you guys feel like doing?"
Exchanging quick glances, the women all agreed that learning more about Arya's personal life was much more important that their lack of sleep. They all separated to their individual rooms to change for the evening. When they emerged downstairs a short time later, Arya lead them to another part of the house, and through a door into a cool, dimly-lit garage. The familiar black Cadillac was parked in the middle, but just past it, a sleek black BMW convertible lurked in the shadows. Arya moved toward the Cadillac, but Angela, uninhibited as ever, giggled with a smile, "Oh, can we take that one?" Arya turned and with a quick smile said, "Do you really think that would be a good idea?"
All the visitors chimed in their approval and they all squeezed into the tan leather seats of the BMW. Arya reversed sharply out of the garage and sped down the driveway. While she was careful and controlled in her gestures and manner, her driving was the complete opposite. She flew with practiced ease around turns, but the visitors could tell that she was holding back somewhat for their sake.
In a much shorter amount of time than it should have taken, they pulled onto a side road off the freeway that ended at an idyllic beach setting where a group of young, tan people was already clustered around a bonfire, with music blaring. Those at the edge of the group turned when the black convertible roared to a stop, and cried "Arya!" "Hey, Arya's here!" The greeting soon spread through the group as Arya strode toward the bonfire, the four other women just behind her.
Introductions were made and the women were soon quickly welcomed into the friendly group. Mia was chatting with a resident that worked under Arya during dinner when the subject of Arya came up. The other three visiting women, who were all seated at the same table, turned their attentions to the conversation.
"Arya said you five went to high school together." the resident, Nasuada, said. "What was she like back then?"
The four women exchanged glances before Mia answered, "Quiet. She was friends with us, but never fully committed herself to our group. She always sort of held herself apart."
"Then she hasn't changed much." Nasuada commented, almost sadly, "She has so many people relying on her. She helps so many different people, helps them with their problems, but she never lets anyone connect with her. Sure, she's friendly and nice to everyone, but those of us who work closely with her, well, it's as if she never fully gives all of herself to anyone." Other residents and interns at the table made noises of agreement. Then one, a friendly man named Jack, said softly, "But the pieces of Arya we are lucky to get, those are so much better than all of a lesser person. Her mind works in a completely different way from anyone I know, and it's refreshing." Everyone, those who had known Arya since she was young, and those who worked with her everyday, agreed, their gazes turning to a lone figure who had left the circle of the fire's light and stood at the edge of the ocean, hair waving softly in the breeze.