The Secret Life of Daydreams (14 page)

“Photography?” She gave him a puzzled look then leaned closer to see his sketch.

“I did have a photography class, but my major was architecture.” His design of the building was taking shape now, under Sofia’s watchful gaze. “My dad was an architect and so was my grandpa. I always knew being an architect was expected of me.” He brushed the debris away from another patch of dirt as the sketch expanded. “I applied at the University of Utah, just as they had done, and had a full year there of pre-requisite classes before I left on my mission. When I returned, I dove right in into my major of architecture with a minor in engineering.” He put the stick down and looked straight ahead, not wanting to see Sofia’s reaction to his words.

“You sketched my school,” Sofia said with a tone of admiration in her voice.

He nodded. He’d drawn the west façade of the high school where she worked. The clean style appealed to him. It was a solid, classic building, no fancy frills or unnecessary decorations, and he liked that.

“I was almost twenty-two when I got married. She was eighteen and a half.” Ridiculous ages to get married. Why hadn’t he seen that back then? “We thought we were so grown up and ready for life as a married couple.” He shook his head. “The problems started almost from the beginning but everyone I knew kept saying it was normal, a period of adjustment.” He picked up a pebble and squeezed it between his fingers, transferring the built-up tension. “She was in school too, and soon we had our schedules so filled up, we hardly saw each other.”

Josh took a peek at Sofia, still sitting against the rock. Her expression was calm, without a trace of judgment, and that was the encouragement he needed to go on. “I graduated in three years and started working at my grandpa’s firm. She got her realtor license and started building a client list right after.” He picked at these memories, dodging the most painful ones. “And somehow we lasted like this for over four years, seeing less and less of each other, gradually slipping away from activity in our ward, busier and busier with our jobs and careers. When we happened to cross paths at home, we either didn’t talk to each other, or we argued about everything.”

He paused, battling the memories inside with the need to come clean with Sofia. He had loved his wife, hadn’t he? Not with a sweeping passion, he could see that now, but there had been some kind of love.

In the back of his mind, he remembered the concerns he’d had about rushing into marriage. But they had gotten along well in the beginning of their courtship, and so had their families. Besides, didn’t God bless those who obeyed His commandments? The expectations were clearly set: he’d returned honorably from serving a mission, and marriage followed that. In the ensuing years, when the arguments and loneliness came, so had the separation from the church. Not all at once, but little by little his heart and his spirit had broken, and he’d done nothing to stop it. But, as the priesthood holder, it was his duty to try to mend their relationship, and he had failed.

Josh cleared his throat. “The day we signed the divorce papers, I packed a duffel bag with casual clothes and all my photography equipment, and left everything else behind.” Josh straightened his shoulders and blew out a breath. “That was six years ago and I haven’t looked back.”

“How did you get your photography business started then?” Sofia asked.

“That was easy. I’d been doing photography on the side since high school and college, then started spending any free time I had when I wasn’t working during those hell years.” That’s what they’d been; that’s what he called them. He winced at the slip-up and looked back to Sofia. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

Sofia dismissed his words with the wave of a hand. “It’s not a swear word in Portuguese.”

Josh continued. “I was willing to travel anywhere and started adding to my portfolio. Two years into it, I happened onto a small trailer and took a few months to restore it.”

Sofia’s eyes widened. “You live in a caravan? I thought you lived in California?”

He chuckled lightly. “I have a sister who lives in California and she lets me use her address and forwards mail to me. She also has property and I park there sometimes in the winter or when I travel abroad, like now. But yeah, the rest of the time I live in my trailer, which is definitely better than staying in hotels.”

Sofia was quiet for a moment. What did she think about his lifestyle? If only he knew her well enough to read her expression. Her approval and good opinion of him were more important than he wanted to admit.

“Sofia,” he called and she turned to him. “I’m only telling you this so you can see how much my life has changed. I don’t work in an office, I don’t wear suits, and I don’t go to church.”

“And you don’t miss it?” Her voice was quiet.

She meant the church, of course, even though she hadn’t used the word.

“I’ve made my choices and I’ve accepted the consequences.” He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

The pebble weighed in his hand, flat and smooth, and with a corner chipped. Maybe it had been sitting at the top of this hill for centuries, being tossed around, under the rain and cold in the winter, and under the hot sun in the summer, until it had formed this shape he saw now. He got up from the ground, raised his arm and tossed it across the clearing, where it fell against a tree. Then he extended his hand to Sofia and she took it, standing.

Sofia stretched, then brushed off the seat of her jeans with her palms, a very lovely seat he had no business looking at. She caught him staring and he ducked his head the other way, feeling like a creep.

A breeze passed through the oak above them, setting off a few birds. The beginning of the afternoon stretched before them and it was time to move on. As he reached for the camera bag, Sofia placed a hand on his forearm, and he stopped.

“We all have our crosses to bear, Josh. But it doesn’t mean we have to bear them alone.”

* * *

Sofia walked on ahead, giving Josh the time to sort out his thoughts and emotions. From the look on his face while he talked, she had a feeling he hadn’t shared his story with anyone else. Opening up took a toll, as she well knew. It had taken courage to lay out a piece of his heart and Sofia had almost thanked him for sharing so much of himself, but that would only have brought added attention to it, so she held back instead.

At the edge of the acropolis, Josh caught up with her. “Is this the way back?” He eyed the trail.

The small road before them pitched sharply around the trees and small boulders.

Sofia gestured to the posted warning, urging hikers to turn around instead of risking personal injury. “It’s mostly directed at families with children.”

“That makes sense.” Josh slid off his backpack then put his camera inside before replacing it on both shoulders. He stepped toward Sofia and held out his hand. “I’ll go on ahead and you can hang on to me. Is that all right?”

For a brief moment, Sofia wanted to tell him she knew well that little stretch of Pre-Iron Age road. It was steep but she still remembered the best places where to step. But she caught herself. With a nod and a smile, Sofia slipped her hand into his.

As they carefully stepped on the dirt and rocks, nothing else mattered more than the feel of his warm skin. Palm to palm, with fingers laced, his large hand cradling her small one. They had touched hands before, but only for mere seconds. This prolonged contact ignited her nerves, and raised the small hairs on her arm. Could Josh feel it, or was it all in her mind?

When they reached the main road, Sofia expected Josh to drop her hand. But he didn’t. She looked up to him and he met her eyes, a lazy smile tugging the corner of his mouth. He squeezed her fingers, not uncomfortably but with a firmness that went beyond the simple gesture of helping her down a sharp hill.

She hadn’t imagined it. The connection was real. Sofia returned the squeeze and the smile, wishing she could turn around and hike again, this time holding hands with Josh.

Her concentration was gone.

All morning on Sunday, and during her time at church, Sofia’s mind wandered off to the hours she’d spent with Josh at the Citânia de Briteiros the day before. Especially the time after lunch when they’d sat together under the shade of the oak tree. The Spirit had been strong when she’d talked about the temple, and despite Josh’s near silence, his eyes had shone with an understanding she recognized from the time when he’d taught her before her baptism. He had felt that Spirit too. How ironic it was, this role reversal.

And then he’d started sketching with the twig, and had let her take a peek under all the layers he hid behind. She hadn’t expected him to open up about his past, not in that bare-all manner. The questions had come but she’d held them back, afraid to interrupt him and lose that connection between them.

Of course, some of those questions had already been answered when he’d shown up wearing hiking shorts and cargo boots. All through the day, her eyes kept straying to Josh’s bare knees and legs. Evidently, he was in good shape and spent a lot of time outdoors. But more than his shapely calf muscles or the tanned color of his skin, it was the absence of white garments peeking under his shorts that had attracted her stare.

With so much hiking and movement, and with her trailing behind him most of the way uphill, she’d had an ample view to know he just didn’t wear them. And when his revelations came, it made more sense. What didn’t make sense was why. Did he not remember that one clung to faith in times of trouble, instead of running away from it? Her heart had ached for him, for all the pain he carried inside.

In the end, the best part of the trip was holding hands with Josh.

She’d been riding on an emotional high when she arrived at home but reality had brought her down fast. Mother had reacted poorly to Sofia’s absence all day, which had made it harder to get along with Nurse Antónia. It had taken longer to calm her down and put her to bed.

And then there was the financial burden of the extra pay. Sofia was already using part of her savings for the doctorate degree to cover the expenses for Mother’s care. Summer vacation would start next week and Sofia had to decide between staying home and watching Mother all day, or finding a summer job to pay the nurse to care for Mother while she was gone. It was a dilemma but already one of the solutions was clear to her, as much as she didn’t like it. Serving as a guide to any more of Josh’s outings was just not possible, no matter how much she enjoyed spending time with him.

Once at home, Sofia spent the time getting ready for the coming week, with cooking and cleaning and going over all of her students’ grades. Her lack of keeping the Sabbath day holy prickled her conscience, but what was she to do? Every so often the need to catch up with the busyness in her life was too much to let Sunday go untouched by much-needed tasks.

Mother’s behavior had oscillated between apathy and belligerence all afternoon. Her changing moods were exhausting. When bedtime came and Mother retired without fussing, Sofia was on the brink of tears, light with relief and heavy with guilt, as it happened more and more. The suggestions to place Mother in a nursing facility hung in the back of her mind, running the pros and cons against the promise she’d made to Father to care for Mother.

She had been working on the outline of her admission’s proposal for over two weeks now. Considering her word limit was a minimum of ten thousand words, she was behind schedule. When she set her weekly planner on the kitchen table, she sighed. If only she could squeeze a few more hours into each day, her problems would be solved.

The phone sat on the coffee table and Sofia lifted her eyes to it several times while she typed halfheartedly on the report. After a few minutes, she reached for it and sent a message to Josh.

I’m sorry, but I can’t come with you on trips anymore.

A few minutes later, his reply came.
Has something happened?

School will be out next week and I need to find a paying job for the summer.

What are you going to do? Any leads yet?

There’s a place I’ve worked before as a tutor for inbound college students who are getting ready for admission exams.
There were a few other less glamorous jobs Sofia hoped she could get as well.

Will that be enough?

It might be, if I get a second job.

He didn’t reply. Was he mad that she was breaking their previous plans?
I know you were counting on me. Again, I’m sorry.