Kiss Me, Lynn (4 page)

How had she ever thought she could be married to a workaholic
? Yet, according to Sharon, that’s exactly what Lynn had become, with no time for dating or a relationship, and no time during the summer for anything but writing endless lesson plans. Actually, she re-copied lesson plans. She’d taught the same lessons, year after year, and could’ve used the same plans over and over. Transferring them from one planning book to another made them seem fresh, somehow, when they weren’t.

The wine arrived.
She poured it into a plastic glass and drank it. All of it.

Cl
osing her eyes, she sighed. Sharon was right. Lynn needed this break from her dull, boring life. Desperately. How long had it been since she’d been on vacation? A real vacation! Too long. For the next two weeks, she didn’t want to think about anything except Peru.

When they got home, she’d visit her parents,
then take a long look at what her life had become.

Chapter 3

Sharon poked Lynn’s arm.
“You haven’t said a word since we got on this plane. Are you asleep with your eyes open? I saw you checking e-mail. Are we getting a signal?”

Lynn moved around a little, shaking off the memory.
“No. I got a post from Bill before we took off.”

“Good grief.
You haven’t heard from him in years. What did he want?”

Lynn
scrolled down to the post and handed the phone to Sharon, who read it with a look of anger.

“He waited
two years to tell you he still loves you? That creep! What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.
I’m not going to answer.” Lynn took the phone back and deleted the post.

“Good for you!
No matter what you say, he’s going to take any response as an admission that he’s right. And he’s not right, dammit! You don’t need him to be happy! Right?”

Lynn hesitated.
“Right.”

Sharon leaned back.
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re thinking about going back to the jerk?”

“No.
I don’t want to be married to someone who’s happier doing tax returns than going to a movie. I even tried to get him interested in history after his trip to Peru, but he never listened. Just kept watching football or baseball or whatever it had been, then said, ‘What? I hated that trip.’” Lynn closed her eyes. “I deserve better.”

“Right,” Sharon mumbled.
“Want me to answer the post for you? I’ll pretend I’m you—with guts.” She grinned.

“No, thanks.
He wouldn’t read it anyway. Not until after three tax returns and watching someone catch a big fish.”

“He may try to call you.”

“I doubt we’ll have cell phone service in Peru. He’ll give up after getting no answer the second time, if he takes time to call me at all.” She leaned her seat back as far as it would go and closed her eyes, wishing for sleep. Sharon patted her arm then did the same.

<><><><>

After midnight, when their plane finally landed in Lima, Lynn’s joints felt like cement. The flight from Virginia to Houston had been long enough, then a short layover and another six and a half hours to Lima. All she wanted now was a bed with a comfortable mattress and her down pillow, which she’d squeezed into her suitcase to make sure she slept well on this trip.

How Sharon had actually slept most of the way, Lynn could only guess.
She’d probably taken one of those little white pills that knocked her out completely. Lynn had tried to watch a movie from the extensive list, but the engine noise, coupled with frequent announcements that paused the action in the most inconvenient places, made it impossible to maintain any sort of continuity, so she’d given up after the third announcement. The fussy toddler across from them, who wore her poor mother out with her refusal to sleep, didn’t help, either.

When they left the plane, Lynn
felt some of the excitement return that she’d accumulated over the past three weeks. But what greeted them wasn’t at all what she’d hoped. The terminal was packed with wall-to-wall people, retrieving luggage, going through customs, and trying to find those who waited for deplaning passengers. Speaking to anyone in their group required yelling above the chaos of voices speaking multiple languages all around them. To top it all, there were young women everywhere trying to rent cell phones to tourists. Lynn discovered quickly that her cell phone was completely useless in Lima, but she declined their offers—again and again and again—thinking it might be nice to spend two weeks without having to constantly check e-mail, texts, and missed phone calls from people she didn’t want to talk to. She knew her mother wouldn’t call, and wouldn’t want her to call, either. Her father preferred e-mail. They’d brought Sharon’s laptop, knowing they’d have wireless in the hotels.

After th
ey were finally free of the technicalities involved with entering a foreign country, they struggled to stay together when they entered a huge area even more congested than the one they’d left. In the midst of a tangle of hundreds of people and sheer chaos, she realized the people who held signs were waiting for family members, or they were tour guides pushing their way to the front of the roped-off area to thrust their signs at everyone they saw, yelling the names of those they had come to meet. Lynn had no idea how their group had been labeled for this tour, so the signs meant nothing to her.

Eventually,
a sign appeared toward the end of a long line of people that had Barb’s name scrawled with a black marker that clearly had been almost out of ink. They hurried toward the young woman holding the sign.

“Barb
ara Webber? From Virginia?” she asked each of them.

Barb worked her way to the front of the group.
“I’m Barbara!”

“Welcome to Lima!
You and your group please follow me!” She spoke in Spanish to two men behind her who hurried to grab everyone’s luggage and pile it on a big cart.

Lynn was happy to relinquish her h
eavy suitcase and her carry-on bag so all she had to carry was her purse, which was heavy enough by itself. She wondered if one of the men handling the luggage could be their guide. Barb’s friend in Texas had recommended the guide she and her husband had had on their tour after they’d gotten to Cusco. Barb requested that he guide them in Lima as well as in Cusco and Machu Picchu. Alex. She couldn’t remember his last name.

She asked the young woman
with the sign, “Which one is Alex, our guide?”

“He isn’t here
tonight. We’ll get you to the hotel. Alex flew in from Cusco this afternoon and will be there in the morning. He’ll be staying at your hotels in Cusco, the Sacred Valley, and in Machu Picchu, too.”

Lynn hoped he’d be friendly, as well as informed about everything they saw.
Barb had raved about him, based on what she’d heard from her Texas friend. Lynn had the blank book in her purse to record anything significant from the tour. Years as a teacher had taught her how faulty her memory could be. She wondered how many pages would be filled after two weeks of touring.

The
van ride to the hotel proved to be harrowing, to say the least. Traffic in Lima was horrible! Atrocious! Unbelievable! Across three lanes of traffic, four cars squeezed in, passing, turning in front of each other, honking, jockeying for position, with sometimes only inches between them! The noise by itself was enough to drive anyone crazy who wasn’t used to such traffic. Their driver, who had been introduced as a “professional driver,” appeared calm and not in the least concerned about almost being bashed every few seconds. Before long, Lynn stared straight ahead and took deep breaths to try and keep her heart from racing. This tour might end before it had a chance to begin!

“I hope we get to the hotel in one piece,”
Sharon told Lynn in a shaky voice. The rest of the group nodded agreement in between gasps and yelps of fear when a bus passing them almost scraped the side of the van!

It took them almost an hour to get
to the hotel—the Casa Andina Private Collection Lima. By the time they arrived, they were even more exhausted than when they’d arrived at the airport. Lynn wondered if this was what they’d have to endure every day on this tour.

When the
“professional driver” parked, everyone cheered for him. He’d performed numerous miracles getting them there safely. When Lynn stepped down onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel, traffic noise was even louder than it had been inside the van. She hoped their rooms would be quiet enough to sleep.

They filed into the
lobby and were pleasantly surprised to find it completely quiet and almost deserted at this late hour. At least that much was what she’d expected. Their reservations were entirely in order. All they had to do was produce their passports, which would be returned by their escorts in a few minutes, along with the keys to their rooms.

Lynn wandered through the lobby
while waiting for her passport and key, admiring the gorgeous bar, antique furniture, and enormous flower arrangements. She noticed a man sitting on one of the overstuffed couches, smiling and nodding at each person in the group. When he finally turned to smile and nod at her, she instantly smiled back. His eyes were kind and generous and friendly, and his smile reached them, producing an expression of welcome and contentment. Was he waiting for someone at this late hour?

“Let’s go!”
Sharon grabbed her arm and shoved her passport and key into her hands. “Our luggage is on that cart. Third floor. We have to get to bed. They’re coming to get us at nine in the morning!”

“
Nine? It’s going to be close to two-thirty before we get to bed!”

“That’s why we have to
move it!”

Lynn followed Sharon, but turned back to see if the
others were coming. Then she realized the man from the lobby stood behind her, also waiting for the elevator.

“Welcome to Peru,” he said softly
in a melodic Spanish accent.

“Thank you.
Do you live here?” Lynn realized, since he was a guest at the hotel, he most likely did not live in Lima. Dumb question!

“I live in Cusco.
I am your guide for this tour.” He offered his hand. “Alex Vereau.”

Lynn notic
ed his hands were smooth and his touch gentle. “I’m glad to meet you, Alex. You came highly recommended.” Sharon shook his hand next, grinning ear to ear.

Barb leaned between Lynn and Sharon to shake Alex’s hand next.
“I’m Barb. Linda raved about how much you knew about Peru! That’s why we asked for you.”

Alex closed his eyes and gave a little bow.
“I will have to thank her again. She told me you were coming.
Muchas grácias
. I will see all of you in the morning.”

They got into the elevator.
With eight of them, the car was full. Alex told them he’d take the next car. Lynn caught herself leaning when the doors closed, to prolong her view of him. When she leaned into Sharon, who was leaning for the same reason, Alex laughed and waved at them.

Idiot
s. They were acting like students!

Sharon sighed.
“I just knew I’d fall in love with our guide. No use wasting time. I’m in love already!”

Lynn felt an odd stab of jealousy.
Ridiculous. No flings, remember! She was in Peru for a working vacation. Not to fall in love with a handsome Peruvian!

<><><><>

Alex waited for the next car and rode to the third floor to his room. When he emerged from the elevator, he saw the blonde woman he’d spoken to, and her red-headed friend, entering a room at the end of the hall. When they saw him, the redhead waved and laughed. The blonde smiled before following her friend into the room. Did he detect a bit of pink in her cheeks? Probably just the lighting. But she was lovely. He especially liked her blue eyes.

Alex had no idea what to expect from this group, just as he never knew what to expect from any group.
Now, though, the idea of spending two weeks with a beautiful woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a shy smile made him happier than he’d been in a long time. He pulled a list of names from his pocket. Which one was she, he wondered? In the morning, he’d ask her name.

Chapter 4

Sharon disappeared into the bathroom immediately while Lynn chose one of the queen-sized beds and turned the covers back.
She heard the shower. All those long hours on the plane had been spent in anticipation, excitement, and fatigue, followed by complete exhaustion. After that harrowing ride to the hotel, hot water was exactly what they both needed to be able to sleep the rest of the night. Breakfast was included in their stay at Casa Andina, so they’d have to be up no later than seven if they were going to get dressed, to the restaurant off the lobby for the breakfast buffet, then back to the room for a few minutes before it was time to leave at nine.

Lynn
wandered around the room and stopped before a set of figures on the wall that seemed to be a mother, father, and child. But all three were naked, with nothing hidden. She’d seen the same three figures in the lobby. Were they specific to the hotel, or to Lima, or to Peru? She had no idea. She looked at the rest of the décor. It was a perfect blend of earth tones and soft patterns. She opened the curtains on the huge windows at one end of the room but couldn’t see much outside. There were lights on vehicles, but no way to see the buildings clearly, or anything in the distance. Mountains or the Pacific?

Lynn realized she should have gone through the tour information while on the plane.
Right now, her mind was so muddled, she couldn’t remember what they were scheduled to see tomorrow. No, make that later today.

Sharon emerged from the bathro
om wrapped in a towel. “Your turn!”

“Thanks.”
Lynn headed for the bathroom and immediately turned the hot water back on to keep the room steamy and warm. After washing away muscle tension, and a kink in her back from that awful seat on the plane from Houston, she washed her long hair, turned the water off with regret that she couldn’t stay longer, then stepped out onto the mat. She enjoyed the soft towel on her skin, and slipped into the red flannel pajamas she’d bought just for this vacation. By the time she’d combed her hair, creamed her face, and brushed her teeth, Sharon was in bed, almost asleep.

Lynn tiptoed to her own bed.

Sharon roused. “I set the alarm for 7:00. We’ll have to eat breakfast and have our teeth brushed by 9:00, when the van gets here.”

“Great.
For our first day of touring, I’ll be half-asleep.” She settled into the soft sheets and pulled the comforter up around her neck. “One more night here, right?”

“
Right. Then on to Cusco. No more talking. Sleep.”

Lynn
appreciated the pillowtop mattress, and relaxed into her down pillow.

“So far so good,” she whispered.
Sharon was already asleep.

Lynn turned off
the light and closed her eyes. Just before she drifted off, she remembered Alex Vereau’s smile, his kind eyes, and heard his laugh just before the elevator door closed.

She whispered again, “So far so good.”

<><><><>

Alex appreciated
the group’s request that he stay at the hotels where the group would be staying on this tour. Usually, he went home to Cusco every evening and got up early to return to wherever they were staying for the next morning’s tour. Of course, he usually didn’t do the part of the tour in Lima.

After a shower, he fell into bed, turned off the light, and closed his eyes.
Her face still lingered in his memory. He definitely had to learn her name first thing in the morning.

<><><><>

When the alarm went off, Lynn wanted to turn over and go back to sleep. Sharon was already dragging herself into the bathroom to dress and, as she always said, “find her face and glue it back on.”

Lynn got
up and went to the windows to check out the view. What she saw was nothing she’d expected. Full cloud cover. No sun at all. Fog. The poem, “Fog,” by Carl Sandburg came to mind. It ended with “then moved on.” This fog, though, showed no sign of moving anywhere, on “little cat feet” or any other way. It engulfed everything she could see—buildings that, in places, looked like someone had put them up with colored cardboard, and people scurrying below, dressed in warm clothes with jackets. The morning traffic appeared to be as bad as it had been last night, even at this early hour.

“Sharon!
Come look at this! Our first glimpse of Lima!”

Sharon emerged, trying to poke earrings through her
earlobes. She looked, but didn’t say anything for a minute. “Okay. Where are the mountains? The Pacific? And look at the traffic! It must be morning rush hour. Or second rush hour? I think I read there are about eight million people in the Lima area. They may have rush hour all day long!”

“
I have no idea which direction we’re facing, so I have no clue about the ocean or mountains. Since the sun is completely obscured, we can’t tell which way is east. For that matter, where is the sun? We obviously got here on a rainy day. It’s winter here, after all. Maybe the fog and clouds will burn off by this afternoon. Where are we going first?”

“Not sure.
Some ruins with a huge pyramid, I think. Then the Larco Museum for a tour and late lunch. According to my guide book, the grounds around that Museum are covered with flowers, every color you can imagine. Don’t forget your camera!”

As if anyone on this tour could forget to bring a camera!
Lynn rushed to the bathroom to get ready, with Sharon coaxing her constantly.

“You look
gorgeous! No need to mar that natural beauty with a lot of make-up! Just brush your hair and let it fly!”

Lynn managed to get ready in record time
, in spite of the fatigue from lack of sleep. At least she’d be able to rest a little on the bus on the way. She brushed her hair back into a pony tail and secured it with an elastic band.

Downstairs,
after breakfast, Alex waited by the front door. “The van is here. Watch your step getting on.” He was wearing a white straw hat with a moss green and cranberry hatband that crossed in the back. He nodded to her and held the door.

“It’s foggy this morning.”

“Yes, it’s always foggy here in the winter.”

“How many months of winter do you have?”

“Nine.”

Lynn stopped and stared at him.
“Nine? When it is not winter?”

“January, February, and March.
That’s when Lima has sun and rain.”

“
Doesn’t it rain during the winter?”

“Never.
Just thick clouds and fog. Watch your step getting on the van. The steps will be damp.”

He offered his hand and she took it.
Again, she noticed his soft touch. His other hand in the middle of her back—to steady her, he said—felt just as nice. She made her way into the back row of seats next to Sharon.

“Did you hear what he said about there being no sunshine or rain here except during the summer?”

“Yes, but it’s hard to believe. How can people live without sun and rain for three-fourths of the year?”

“I guess the fog and clouds won’t be burning off by the afternoon.”

Alex greeted them and expressed his hope that they’d enjoy their tour. He asked if they would tell him their names, which he promised to forget the minute he heard them.

Lynn
smiled at that. They began in the front. She and Sharon were last to share their names. When he heard her name, he smiled and paused for a couple of seconds before getting back to his narrative about Peru. He seemed to be making an effort to establish eye contact with each person, but did he look at her more often than the others?

They experienced another harrowing ride through Lima
, with Alex pointing out buildings and plazas and other sites, then giving brief information about each one. A great deal of what he told them had to do with Lima’s history, and that of the country. Lynn was surprised at how quickly she got used to the traffic, in spite of all the honking and street noises. She was finally able to look out the windows and still concentrate on what Alex was telling them without being overly distracted by the extraordinary number of cars, trucks, and buses, and the honking that never seemed to stop. Alex explained that the drivers used hand signals to let other drivers know when they needed to change lanes or turn. Amazingly, all the drivers responded to these signals.

The only time Lynn and the others became concerned was when the van turned onto a street that had been closed in preparation for the festival com
ing up on the weekend—Peruvian Independence Day, according to Alex. The only way the driver could get out of the dead-end street was to back up, forcing cars behind them to also back up. Lynn noticed the hand signals the driver used to let the cars behind know what he was doing. He curved back the way they’d come, onto the street he’d turned off of, forcing even more vehicles to back up until he was straight on the main street. Then he drove ahead and traffic resumed as usual. Neither he nor Alex seemed to think much about it, and there hadn’t been even one fender-bender during the process.

“It happens all the time,” Alex said, and
smiled at Lynn.

B
y the time they were moving again, she noticed that the traffic moved in an odd sort of rhythm, without any hint of a crash or even a disagreement between drivers. Surely, they had accidents all the time, though.

“Alex, are there many wrecks in Lima?”
Lynn asked him.

“Wrecks?”
He didn’t seem to understand the question.

“Cars crashing into each other in traffic.”

“Oh! No. Everyone knows the rules.”

Rules?
Lynn and Sharon looked at each other, then at Barb, B. J., Cathi, Vicki, Dorothy and Sheila. Lynn saw the same expression on each face—disbelief! She couldn’t imagine trying to drive in Lima in a car, much less a van or bus! Truly, their driver had to be a “professional” in order to assure the safety of his passengers! At that point, Lynn decided it wasn’t worth worrying about the traffic any longer. Instead, she took a deep breath and focused on listening to Alex’s description of the places they passed. One thing was obvious. The citizens of Lima loved flower gardens. They were everywhere! She took photos through the window as they sped along, but didn’t have much hope of their coming out very well because of the movement of the van, and because of the gloom created by the cloud cover. Everything would probably come out gray. It was then she realized that everything they saw had the same general color superimposed over the colors below—a dull gray-brown.

“Alex, what is this gray-brown color on everything?”

He hesitated before answering. “Dirt. Exhaust. It does not rain here for many months, so the grime of daily life is never washed clean until the summer, when the rainy season comes.”

Lynn didn’t know what to say about that, so she just
smiled an apology for having asked the question. Alex continued his commentary on the way to the first ruins they’d be touring—a place called Pachacamac, which Lynn had read about when she’d taught a unit on pyramids of the world last year. When his commentary paused, Alex shrugged a little. As much as he loved his country, there were things about it that weren’t beautiful, even to him. She wished she hadn’t asked.

<><><><>

Pachacamac was only twenty miles from Lima, but Alex explained it would take almost an hour to get there. Still disoriented, Lynn asked which direction they were going. South, he said, into the Lurin Valley, where several groups of people had lived before the Inca arrived in the 1200s—the pre-Incan cultures. Some of those cultures were called the Moche, the Wari, and the Nazca. He talked about them all the way, but Lynn had a hard time paying attention. So, she watched Alex gesturing as he explained what they’d be seeing while pointing out places of interest along the way.

It was
fascinating how much Alex knew all about this area, and not only general information. He knew specifics and never hesitated even a few seconds before answering questions the group put to him. The smile he wore constantly was proof that he loved his job as a guide.

Before long, she actually dozed off, until the van swerved to miss another tour bus going the other direction.

“What did I miss?” she whispered to Sharon.

“About three hundred years,” Sharon whispered back with a smile.

When they reached the ruins, the driver parked the van and everyone got out. Lynn had read that these ruins included pyramids that, when newly built, were even higher and more massive than the pyramids on the Giza Plateau in Egypt. That was hard for her to imagine, having seen the pyramids of Khufu, Khafre, and Menkaure in television specials. One of the primary differences between the Giza pyramids and the ones here at Pachacamac was the way they were built. These pyramids were built of adobe and had eroded quite a bit over the centuries, while the Giza pyramids were built of limestone.

The bases of the
Pachacamac pyramids were still enormous, but the tops had lost a great deal of height since they were built in the first century AD. According to Alex, the Lima civilization that built these pyramids reached their peak during the tenth century AD. The Incas followed in the 1400s, conquered the site, and turned it into a truly magnificent place.