The Secret Life of Daydreams (15 page)

Still nothing from him. She typed some more.
I can probably recommend another guide to you. I still have contacts at the tourism office.

His reply came at last.
That’s okay, I don’t want another guide.

Well, then. What could she say to that? She’d apologized and she’d tried to help him with a solution. If he still didn’t want that, that was his problem.

Just as she reached to turn off the phone, another message came in.

I’m at your door. Can I come in, please?

Sofia rose from the table, staring at the screen. What was he doing here?

She checked the time. It wasn’t very late for polite company to visit. Almost, but not yet. She walked to the foyer, and looked through the peep hole. He was slightly out of view, leaning onto the doorjamb, but it was Josh. He must have heard her by the door and tapped a knuckle against the wood. She was wearing pajamas but it would have to do, no time to change.

Sofia opened the door and let Josh in as soundlessly as possible. As he stood in the light of her foyer, he turned to her and Sofia gasped.

“Your beard.” His thick, bushy beard was gone. Well, not completely. He’d trimmed it down to a stylish three-day stubble, where his strong jawline and the cleft in his chin no longer completely hid under all the facial hair.

Sofia’s hand reached up but she caught herself and brought it back down. Goodness, she’d almost touched his face, and he’d seen it too. Where had that come from? Her cheeks warmed.

Josh’s mouth stretched into a smile. “It was time. It was getting too long.”

There they were, the dimples on his cheeks, the ones she now remembered from when he was a clean-shaven missionary. How much different would he be with a smooth face? Not that she didn’t like this new sexy, scruffy look. Sofia swallowed. She was spending too much time admiring his face.

She indicated the living room but Josh shook his head, and they stood in the foyer. “What’s going on?” She asked.

“I was already on my way here when you texted me.” Josh kept his voice low as she had. “I need to apologize to you.” He drew an envelope from his pocket. “And give you this.”

Sofia took it. “Apologize for what?”

Josh motioned to the envelope and she swiped a finger under the flap. Several €20 bills sat inside.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s the payment I owe you for your tour guide services,” Josh said.

Sofia drew out the money and counted it. “This is too much.” She looked up to Josh and shook her head. “And I didn’t do it expecting you to pay me.” Her voice rose at the last word and she brought it back down. “How did you figure this pay anyway?”

Josh took a step closer in her direction. “It’s €50 per day. I asked around and that was the consensus.” He ducked his head to Sofia’s level. “Look, Sofia, you have the experience and the knowledge, and I enjoy your company. I’m not interested in hiring another guide at this point.” He slid his hands in his pockets. “I already had the money aside but forgot to bring it when we went to Briteiros. Besides, you told me yourself you need a paying job.” He paused. “And I need a tour guide for the rest of my trip.”

Sofia stood in the middle of the foyer, the cold of the floor tiles seeping through her socks. This was crazy. She looked again between the envelope in her hand and Josh’s eyes, and the warring inside her only added to her confusion.

Josh’s next words came out in a whisper as he leaned closer to her. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now. Just promise to think about it.”

Sofia exhaled and stepped back. The proximity to Josh muddled her thoughts and she wanted a clear head when she pondered his offer. Did she want to work as Josh’s tour guide? She already knew the answer to that one. But was it a good idea to work for him? That was harder to answer.

“All right. I’ll think about it.” That was all she could do for now. “May I call you tomorrow after school?”

Josh turned to the door and waited for Sofia to unlock it. “That’ll be fine.”

She opened it and he slipped by her, then walked to the elevator and pushed the button. “Thanks for seeing me and I’m sorry I came so late.”

“Não faz mal.” Sofia waved her fingers at him. “Boa noite.”

After Josh left, Sofia relocked the door and turned off the light in the foyer, the envelope still in her hand. All that money. It was the exact amount she needed to cover the utilities for the next month. Another blessing.

* * *

That night, in her dreams, Sofia went back to Tia Joana and the big house in Santa Marta do Portuzelo, Quinta do Souto.

Tia Joana wore the same straw hat and cropped pants she always donned every summer day. Sofia worked at her side before the sun rose higher and the bees came out in force, the dew splatting her fingers with each tug at the pea vines.

The tender pods fell into the basket hooked around Sofia’s left arm and her mouth watered at the anticipation of lunch and a plate full of pan-fried peas in olive oil and minced garlic. Two rows ahead, the tomato plants bent over the supporting wires, heavy with fruit ready to be picked. A tomato salad with fresh peas sounded even better.

Sofia’s chest filled with contentment and she sighed. This was her favorite season at her favorite place with her favorite person. If only summer vacation lasted all year.

Tia Joana hummed an old folklore song. At the end of her row, she put the basket down and straightened, placing her palms on her lower back and exhaling loudly. Sofia kept going. Her basket was not full yet.

“When are you bringing that boy around, Sofia?” Tia Joana asked.

Sofia stopped. “What boy, Tia?”

“The boy who held your hand yesterday, of course.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. “You haven’t been holding hands with other boys, have you?” She cut Sofia a glance.

Sofia turned slowly, sure that Tia Joana had dropped her hat and the sun was stronger than it seemed. But no, the hat sat on Tia’s head, tied firmly under her chin. “I don’t hold hands with any boys, Tia. I’m only thirteen, remember?”

Tia Joana picked up her basket and moved to the tomato row. “What a notion, Ana Sofia.” This time, her tone was laced with annoyance. “You haven’t been thirteen for a long time. You can’t distract me that easily.”

Sofia’s heart thumped and she swallowed hard. Was Tia losing her mind? But when she looked down, her feet were larger than the day before. How had she missed that when she hopped out of bed? She ran to the water trough and leaned over. The reflection that stared back at her had aged since last night. What was happening?

Tia Joana dropped a light hand to Sofia’s shoulder, and Sofia jumped back.

“You know this is only a dream, don’t you, Sofia?”

“How can it be? You just touched me.” It was Sofia who’d lost her mind, not Tia Joana.

“That’s the way of dreams, taking you back to the place where your heart feels safe.” Tia Joana untied her hat and let it drop on the battered rocking chair on the porch. “Now, about Josh. You need to be patient with him. Don’t give up on your dreams and the standards you’ve set for yourself, but don’t forget how deeply Josh cares for you.” Her expression softened. “If you could only see his heart the way Heavenly Father does.”

Sofia woke with a start and sat up in bed. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. That was the craziest dream she’d ever had. The smell of fresh peas still clung to her, and at once her mind rejected its reality.

She hadn’t dreamt of Tia Joana in years. But Tia Joana was right: her home had been the only place where Sofia had felt safe. Was that why Tia Joana had come to her to talk about not giving up on Josh? Sofia rubbed her face as she struggled to make sense of it.

And what did it mean when your past and your present came together in a dream?

As reluctant as he was to recognize it as such, Josh knew divine inspiration when it hit him. He’d been working hard at ignoring it for the past few years but since his arrival in Braga the promptings had grown to the point where he couldn’t shove them aside.

One of those instances of inspiration was when Paulo and Margarida had suggested Sofia as his tour guide. He’d remained neutral and kept the excitement of working with her to himself but there had been no doubts that it was something that needed to happen. When he gave the payment to Sofia, she’d been hesitant to take it and again he’d curbed the long list of reasons only mentioning the obvious, her need for money and his for a guide. It was a simple solution, and one that could work out well. Sofia only had to be convinced and agree with him.

The second inspirational moment was tied to his photography work and his social media accounts. His blog had tripled in traffic recently. Not only was his Minho travel series doing well, but his human interest series had caught the attention of users on Instagram. A lot of users. And from his Instagram account, they came to visit the blog and the Facebook page, and read the stories he posted about the average Portuguese person, the daily struggles and toils of living in Braga.

The idea had come to him on his first walk about the city as he looked at the faces of the baker woman behind the counter, the cobbler hunched over the shoe horn, the taxi drivers in line waiting for their rides, the retired men in the sitting areas of the indoor mall. It had taken Josh some days to start approaching the people. With his heavily accented Portuguese and his height, he wasn’t sure how they’d react to a request by an American photographer to have their picture taken. But he’d forgotten how much Portuguese people loved foreigners, how welcoming and hospitable they were. Taking their picture was the easy part; talking to them and not being able to help was not.

Josh left his room every morning and planned his route as he went, taking note on a map of the places he’d already been and adjusting for weather, local traffic, and parish holidays. A few years before, he’d developed an application that tracked the kind of data he needed while on field jobs.

Other than photographers, it had been well received by journalists, travelers, and even tourists, and it had hit the market before the influx of similar apps, helping it stand out for a constant flow of sales. The income had allowed him a comfortable lifestyle and lent him the necessary means and freedom to fund his traveling in between the better paying jobs.

It was a small miracle that out of the mess of his divorce and the abandonment of his career as an architect, his photography work had bloomed to provide a means of earning a living doing something he loved. Josh had carved a new professional life for himself and he liked the direction it was going. And no, he wouldn’t be saying a prayer of gratitude over it. He’d lost the right to divine supplication.

Today he was traveling out of Braga and into the countryside villages, hoping to capture yet another side to the people, their stories, and their way of life. When he passed an oak tree on the road, his mind turned to Sofia and to the time they’d spent together at the Citânia de Briteiros.

He hadn’t planned on telling her about his past at that time and in that manner, but somehow it had happened. What did she really think about him, about his stupid mistakes and about the way he’d turned his life in the opposite direction? He couldn’t tell. She’d made no comments, no judgments, no condemnation of his new lifestyle.

But his curiosity remained.

* * *

When the call had come two nights ago, Josh held the cell phone tightly in his hand, hoping so hard Sofia would say yes to being his guide, he’d almost said a little prayer. But no prayers were necessary and she’d agreed to showing him a few more landmarks in Braga.

Now that school was out for the summer, they didn’t have to wait till the weekend for a day trip. Actually, an evening trip. After discussing the sight-seeing places in Braga, they’d agreed that the sanctuary of Sameiro was a must-see stop to include in his travel series. But Josh had asked Sofia to leave in the late afternoon and prolong their outing into the evening so he could capture the city and the hills by night. Besides, the moon was out in full tonight, and that was something he didn’t want to miss.

As they drove up the hill, Josh asked Sofia about her last days of school and she chatted about her students and the things she’d done in class. She wore a dark pair of jeans that left the lower leg and ankle exposed. When was the last time he’d noticed a girl’s ankles? Yep, he crushed on her like a kid out on a first date, and he felt as green as if it were his first time. What would Sofia say if she knew he thought of their work outing as a date? He’d keep that little secret to himself.