Pictures of You (7 page)
Authors: Barbara Delinsky
A sharp knock resounded on the hard wood door. Assuming it to be one of two people, she slowly opened it a crack, cautiously peering out while keeping herself hidden behind it. Roberto stood in the hall, her knapsack in one hand, her eyeglassesâhad she really forgotten those, too?âin the other.
“You'll be needing these, I believe.” His eyes did not stray from hers, or so she thought, as she timidly reached with one hand through the door's narrow opening for the things he held.
“Let me help you.” He ignored her outstretched arm, pushing his way into the room before she knew what was happening. He dropped the two items on the bed, then turned toward Eva, whose hand was still on the doorknob, now trembling slightly with indignation. Barefooted as she was, it was a long way up to Roberto's eyes, and she became acutely aware of his towering frame before her. She controlled her voice as she began quietly.
“Thank you for bringing my things up. Now, would you please leave? I have packing to do.” The imploring look in her eyes brought him several steps closer. Eva suffered renewed humiliation as his eyes scored her length, taking in the soft curve of her breast and the outline of her waist and hips through the thin material of her shift. Lifting one hand, he slipped his fingers under the lace-edged shoulder strap, sampling the material with the inside of his fingers as their backs gently touched her skin. An electrifying shudder reverberated
through her, as she fought back against the reactions she seemed powerless to control. But it seemed her fears were premature.
through her, as she fought back against the reactions she seemed powerless to control. But it seemed her fears were premature.
“Nice,” he drawled huskily, before his eyes returned to hers and his tone became suddenly menacing, “but don't bring it tomorrow.” It was a command, not a request. And with it he was gone. Eva stood stunned at the open door for several minutes, before she composed herself enough to shut it.
Aware that sleep would be a long time coming that night, she painstakingly went over and over her suitcase, choosing the few items she thought most appropriate to bring. Once decided, she then found that only half of them fit into the knapsack, so she began the process of elimination all over again. She finally settled on two pairs of blue jeans, one to wear and one to pack, several T-shirts, the necessary underthings, and a heavy pullover sweater. For want of something better, she would wear sneakers, though she had to admit that Paul's arguments in favor of hiking boots made sense.
Water over the dam,
she sighed, as she stowed a towel, soap, and the minimum of makeup needs into the pack.
Water over the dam,
she sighed, as she stowed a towel, soap, and the minimum of makeup needs into the pack.
Standing back, she realized that there was no way she could get any camera equipment into the knapsack. Knowing full well that she risked Roberto's wrath, she proceeded to repack the duffel that usually held her camera equipment. She would need everything in itâher tripod film, flash, lenses, and various accessoriesâat one point or another, though she would keep the camera itself around her neck. She was able to eliminate only the film she had already exposed. Taking a deep breath, she prayed that the case wouldn't really be all that noticeable. It had a broad shoulder strap, and she was well used to carrying it. This crucial decision having been made, she put everything else back into her large suitcase, turned out the light, and climbed into bed.
Even then, she lay awake for what seemed to be hours. As her mind reviewed the amazing events of the day, she momentarily relived each of the experiences and their emotions. Perhaps it was this past excitement, perhaps it was anticipation of tomorrow, perhaps it was no more than the
cafèzinho,
which had keyed her up. When exhaustion finally engulfed her, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
cafèzinho,
which had keyed her up. When exhaustion finally engulfed her, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
It seemed mere moments later that Eva felt a movement at her shoulder. Shrugging it off, she turned deeper into the pillow ⦠before bolting upright in alarm at the sudden realization of where she was and that there was someone with her. In the faint bluish light which was quickly replacing the dark of the night, she saw Roberto sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You startled me!” she gasped breathlessly, trying to get her bearings amid the lingering grogginess.
He nodded understandably, his hand remaining on her shoulder for a minute too long, and he informed her in a low tone, “It's time to get up. Maria will have breakfast ready in five minutes.” Then, mercifully, he left the room without another word, permitting her the privacy to dress.
Breakfast was a quiet, peaceful affair, as Eva readily let her persisting drowsiness cushion her. She felt in no rush to completely wake up, and rather enjoyed the eggs and bacon from her semidazed state. Roberto was faintly amused by her condition, though he made no effort to alter it. He talked periodically to Maria in low, fluent Portuguese, relieving Eva of any responsibility for conversation. Whenever Maria passed behind Eva in the course of her work, she put a gently reassuring hand on the latter's shoulder; Eva returned the gesture with a smile, grateful for the comfort as well as for the most satisfying breakfast. When Eva did occasionally raise her eyes to Roberto over the
rim of her coffee cup, she encountered a pleasant, if impersonal, expression. Even through her stupor she guessed that it was the impending embarkation that had put him in relatively good humor.
rim of her coffee cup, she encountered a pleasant, if impersonal, expression. Even through her stupor she guessed that it was the impending embarkation that had put him in relatively good humor.
It was only when breakfast was done and the two passed through the living room to pick up their packs that this good humor was tested. As Eva bent to lift her two bags, the knapsack and the duffel, Roberto's gaze caught the latter. With a flicker of impatience in his eyes he faced her.
“I said you could bring only one bag. You have two.”
Eva had prepared herself well the night before and now, fully awake, she advanced her case.
“I only have oneâmy knapsack. This duffel holds the tools of my trade much as your pack donkeys carry the tools of yours. I'm used to carrying it and can easily handle both. Without this duffel, my whole purpose for this trip is lost. And I can't very well leave the few clothes in my knapsack behind, can I?”
She had psyched him out perfectly, she knew, as she silently congratulated herself. Although her touch of humor at the end had caused him to raise a suggestive eyebrow, he had responded to reasoning as she had somehow known he would. Instinct told her that this man was a level-headed businessman, steady, practical and straightforward; it was only in his personal affairs, she winced, that he was so unpredictable.
Conceding defeat, he shrugged. “They're your shoulders,” he grumbled, half to himself, as he led the way out of the house.
The early morning sky was the palest shade of blue, a bare suggestion of things to come; the sun, not yet clearing the mountains, painted a thin golden line across the eastern ridge. Eva followed Roberto down the cobblestoned streets, her sneakers a vast improvement on the high-heeled sandals she had worn yesterday.
They turned this way and that, passing from one street into another. Roberto walked several paces ahead and didn't look back to check that she kept up.
They turned this way and that, passing from one street into another. Roberto walked several paces ahead and didn't look back to check that she kept up.
Eva was surprised by the amount of activity already underway in the small village at such an ungodly hour. Each man and woman they passed greeted Roberto enthusiastically, and he returned each salutation with a warm comment, often a personal acknowledgment. He was both well known and well liked here, Eva concluded, and he seemed in his element as he moved through the narrow streets.
Just as Eva began to wonder whether there really was a point of departure, they turned a corner into an enclosed square, and in the center were gathered the remaining members of the group, the donkeys Roberto had promised, and a short and swarthy man similar in appearance to so many of those she had seen yesterday from the taxi. Numerous boxes, bedrolls, canvas-wrapped tools and other utensils were anchored securely atop each donkey. Eva wondered if this packing had been Roberto's handiwork; he looked so fresh and alert, she couldn't imagine his having been up for several hours already, whereas the small Brazilian, as agreeable as he appeared, did show some signs of wear and tear. Eva suspected, smiling, that given a choice he would be standing over another
cafèzinho
with his compatriots.
cafèzinho
with his compatriots.
Paul and Tom broke away from the group and came forward to meet them as they approached, Tom reaching gallantly to relieve Eva of the duffel. She turned down his offer firmly, insisting that she could handle the heavy bag, then she stole a triumphant glance at Roberto. Her gesture had been wasted; the latter was occupied rechecking the donkeys as he talked with the Brazilian. Quickly erasing any signs of disappointment, Eva turned to greet the others, Jacques and Pierre, both
of whom appeared rested and enthusiastic, though Pierre was unable to totally disguise the brooding look that she found so disquieting.
of whom appeared rested and enthusiastic, though Pierre was unable to totally disguise the brooding look that she found so disquieting.
As they awaited Roberto's word to set off, Eva stepped back from the others and began to take pictures. Determined to keep a running photographic narrative of the expedition, she made snaps of the square in which they gathered, including the donkeys with their packs, the pile of knapsacks on the pavement waiting to be hoisted onto the appropriate backs, the little Brazilian at work with Roberto, tightening the cinch on one animal, rebalancing the load on another, and the four other men gathered together in friendly conversation. Past experience had taught Eva to expect some early self-consciousness and awkwardness in her subjects. These subjects didn't disappoint her. Roberto and the Brazilian had been too preoccupied to even notice her, much to her relief; the other men were a different story. Of the four, only Jacques took her activities in stride. Paul and Tom, God bless them, immediately took to hamming it up, facing the lens head-on with ear-to-ear grins on their faces and arms across each other's shoulders. They could have been posing high atop Mt. Everest, thought Eva with a snicker, for the look of triumph they mockingly wore. Their awareness of the camera didn't faze her in the least, for she knew that they would soon become oblivious to it. She had to admit that the pictures she had just shot would capture some truth about their subjectsâPaul and Tom were nuts, lovable nuts! She rather enjoyed their antics, particularly as they buoyed her to take several shots of the malevolent-looking Pierre, his glare zeroing through the lens at her.
When the last of the details had been seen to, Roberto gave the sign, and they were off. Eva couldn't help but share the excitement of the others. The expedition
promised to be a rare experience and was certainly a far cry from anything she had ever done before. She suddenly realized that this trip was already doing its job; even through yesterday's emotional upheavals, she had brooded less about Stu, their failed marriage, and her widowhood than she'd done in a fortnight. Even with as little sleep as she had had last night, she felt exhilarated, and her step increased as she took her place in the small procession.
promised to be a rare experience and was certainly a far cry from anything she had ever done before. She suddenly realized that this trip was already doing its job; even through yesterday's emotional upheavals, she had brooded less about Stu, their failed marriage, and her widowhood than she'd done in a fortnight. Even with as little sleep as she had had last night, she felt exhilarated, and her step increased as she took her place in the small procession.
They passed out of the square as they had entered it, then turned onto the cobblestoned street heading away from the center of town, if in fact that was what the close cluster of houses was called. The sun had now risen above the hills, its warming glow intermingling with the surface chill of the stones. An occasional villager passed the group in the opposite direction, an occasional head nodded at a window, an occasional hand waved its greeting of farewell and luck. Within a few minutes the clop-clop of the donkeys' hooves ceased as the cobblestones gave way to dirt and the town was left behind.
Talk was practically nonexistent during this exit. Eva suspected that, like herself, each of the group was savoring the peace of the morning, reveling in the inner excitement, perhaps daydreaming as to where the hike would lead. She felt all these things and more. Although Roberto was well ahead of her, she was acutely aware of him. He looked so masculine, damn him, in his snug-fitting denims and his tapered shirt. His pace was strong, his stance erect and confident, knapsack and all. The wide-brimmed hat was in place once again, warding off any stray rays of the sun.
In between her thoughts Eva continued to photograph. She captured the town as it disappeared behind them; she captured the dull green foliage on either side of the trail; she captured the distant hills above them,
dotted wth small pockets of mist, the last remnants of a wayward cloud. The path they walked on was narrow, allowing no more than two abreast. Once leaving the town, it became a slow but steady climb, the gradual gain in altitude demanding little from the hikers. Very pleasant, thought Eva, as she shifted her shoulder straps and adjusted her stride to keep pace with the others.
dotted wth small pockets of mist, the last remnants of a wayward cloud. The path they walked on was narrow, allowing no more than two abreast. Once leaving the town, it became a slow but steady climb, the gradual gain in altitude demanding little from the hikers. Very pleasant, thought Eva, as she shifted her shoulder straps and adjusted her stride to keep pace with the others.
They plodded along thus for several hours. With the sun higher in the sky, the heat increased, adding to the natural warmth of exertion. Eva's shoulders indeed began to acheâscore one for Roberto, she lamentedâbut her feet were doing just fine. Score one for sneakers, she came back triumphantly. Just then Paul dropped back from his position directly behind Roberto. Was he checking up on her or just visiting?
“How're you doin', kid?” he asked, in the warm and sincere manner that had immediately endeared him to her.
“Great! How about you?” she returned, not quite honestly, but hoping that he would talk with her awhile and perhaps take her mind off her aching shoulders. Much to her pleasure, that seemed to have been his intention, so they moved along side by side for a while. The group, though otherwise in single file, had spread out significantly, with Roberto in the lead and the donkeys in the rear. This distance put Eva and Paul out of earshot of the others, so she felt totally relaxed in the conversation.
“Tell me about yourself, Paul,” she asked with genuine interest.
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