The Secret Life of Daydreams

by Whitney, Lucinda

  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 sightseeing 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.

  Sofia’s hair was down and held back from her face with a fabric headband. It didn’t cease to amaze him, all that curly, chocolate-colored hair. And the sparkly red nail polish on her toes had been a revelation, another fragment of what made Sofia who she was. Where had this need to know more about her come from?

  They approached the parking lot near the sanctuary of Sameiro and came to a stop. It was situated at the top of the highest eastern hill surrounding Braga. Josh had visited the dome-roofed, cathedral-style building when he was a missionary, but couldn’t remember much more than that it dated to the nineteenth century and was a main religious destination for Catholics in the country.

  They exited, and he opened the trunk of his rental car to retrieve his equipment and the backpack with the picnic. Sofia had offered to bring a packed dinner but at his insistence had relented instead to dessert only. She’d packed it well in a little canvas bag and he couldn’t tell what it was.

  As they left the parking lot, they hurried to round the building and made it to the western side in time to catch the sunset. Once at the wide staircase, Josh quickly set up his camera on the tripod and composed his shots. The view from there spread to the west, north, and south, ideal for another 360° panorama.

  The beginnings of a shimmery sunset stretched in languorous colors, warm and welcoming, and the twinkle of the city lights below added a foggy glow to the magenta tones of the setting sun. A few wispy clouds hung low on the far horizon. The sounds of summer wafted to them, with the filtered noise of urban traffic. Though it was not his first visit there, it was the perfect background for an early summer evening, especially in the company of this beautiful woman next to him.

  As the evening turned darker, the city lights brightened. Behind them, the round moon started its rise and Josh waited for the moment when it crested over the building’s cupola to capture the perfect image. With the sanctuary and surroundings illuminated by spotlights, the ambient light was enough for the contrast effect he wanted to achieve.

  Sofia had delivered her guide recitation about the history of the place, and was now silent as he pressed the shutter on the last shots of the vista. She sat on a stone step below, just a few feet from where he’d placed the tripod. She propped her chin on her palm and rested her elbow on her knee, with a far-away look in her eyes.

  Josh adjusted the settings for the next shot. “Sofia. A penny for your thoughts.” He pressed the shutter and then glanced at her.

  She turned to him. “That’s probably all they’re worth, um tostão.”

  Josh raised his eyebrows, not remembering the word. “O que é um tostão?”

  “That was the old Portuguese penny from the time we still had escudos as the currency, before the introduction of the euros.”

  “I’m pretty sure your thoughts are worth more than that.” Josh looked through the viewfinder. “Come here.” He’d had the presence of mind to use the remote shutter and have a picture taken with Sofia at Briteiros, and now Josh wanted to repeat it at every site they visited. By the end of his trip, he hoped to have enough pictures for a small collection.

  Sofia was a reluctant subject, but complied. He adjusted the focus then walked to her and ducked until their heads were at the same level. He brought an arm behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder, until her hair, and the warmth of her body, and the scent he’d grown to love filled his senses and his heart. How easy it would be to take her in his arms and press her to his chest. Too easy.

  He shook himself mentally and brought his attention back to the camera, then pointed the remote. “Pronta?” Sofia nodded. “Diz queijo!”

  As soon as the shutter released, Sofia stepped away from him. “You’re not putting this on your blog, are you?”

  Josh checked the viewfinder. Lacking the proper lighting, it wasn’t the perfect shot, but Sofia standing next to him with a smile on her face was all he wanted. He scrolled through the images in case he’d miss an angle.

  “What, you don’t think I should post a pic with my beautiful guide?”

  Even in the low light, Sofia’s cheeks tinged. “You have another guide?” She said with an arched brow.

  Josh turned off the camera and detached the tripod. He looked at her directly and smiled. She was uncomfortable with compliments and he was blatantly flirting with her. He’d have to praise her more. “I have the best guide, but you already know that.” He busied himself packing the camera away.

  Sofia lifted her bag. “I have dessert and it won’t keep all night.”

  Okay, he could take a hint. He straightened and shouldered his bag. “Let’s go eat.”

  They started back and Josh veered toward the outdoor eating area. With the clear moon overhead and the light posts throughout, he was looking forward to a picnic at night. This time he’d brought a Chinese dinner in little containers, drinks, utensils and napkins, and even a small tablecloth to lay over the table.

  Sofia watched as he laid it all out. “You sure know how to pack a picnic. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a container and opened it up. “And who says you have to serve sandwiches at picnics all the time?”

  Was it cheating that he’d enlisted Paulo’s help in finding out if Sofia liked Chinese food and then had ordered it from her favorite restaurant? He hoped not.

  For dessert, Sofia pulled out two small round bowls from the bag, and removed the lids. “It’s pudding,” she said. She gave him a spoon and grabbed another for herself. “Homemade flan pudding. Sorry I can’t serve it upside down on a plate, but I made sure it has enough sauce.”

  Josh took a bite. It was cold, and smooth, and had just the right balance of sweetness and creaminess. “This is my favorite Portuguese dessert.” He couldn’t hold back a smile as he took another spoonful. “And the sauce is perfect. The goldish-brown color to it, the not-too-sweet flavor.” He closed his eyes. “So delicious.” He tipped the container and scraped the spoon against the bottom to get the last of the sauce.

  Sofia looked between his empty bowl and hers. “I had no idea you liked flan pudding so much, or I’d have brought more.” She held up her bowl. “Do you want mine? I only took one bite.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want the rest?”

  “I’ve got more at home.” This time, she pushed the bowl into his hands, and he took it.

  “In that case, I’ll take it.” If she didn’t mind sharing, he wouldn’t mind receiving.

  Sofia sat back. “I have a document with all the information about the Sameiro, the Bom-Jesus, and the Citânia, as well. I’ll email it to you later. This way you can pick what you want for your blog.”

  Josh regarded her for a moment, then smiled. “That is a very good idea.” He held his palm up for a high-five. “Why didn’t I think of that before?” An idea for the project turned in his mind and he made a mental note to write it d
own later.

  “I never thought of coming to Sameiro at night before.” She raised her eyes toward the moon. “But the weather is cooler up here, and the view is incredible, and you don’t have to fight throngs of visitors like during the day.”

  Josh quickly packed the containers in the backpack, then leaned against the table as he looked toward the sanctuary. “I remember tracting those streets down there and wondering what it would be like to come up here and watch the sunset with all the city lights in the background.” Funny how the memory had popped up like that. “The reality is even better than all the expectations.” He glanced at Sofia.

  “Did you ever think you’d be back one day?” She evaded the double meaning of his words and he let it slide.

  “It never crossed my mind. It was just one of those things, everything falling into place at the right time.” He leaned forward. “The offer for this job came during a break, and it piqued my interest.”

  “And do you know where you’re going next?” She played with the chain around her neck and Josh’s eyes strayed to it.

  “Not yet. I’ve had some offers but haven’t made a choice.” With each day in Portugal, the decision was less clear. He’d have to extend his work visa again. “I might have to go to California for a little while to wrap up the school project.”

  “That makes sense,” she said.

  They walked back to the car and Josh dropped his equipment, the backpack, and Sofia’s canvas bag in the trunk, then locked it.

  Sofia stood to the side, waiting for him, with an arm crossed and a hand to her neck, sliding the pendant on the chain up and down, absent-mindedly.

  The way she touched it drew his attention and he stepped toward her. Josh brought up a finger and held the pendant, cutting the distance between them. Sofia drew a quick breath but didn’t move, her face tipped up and her eyes locked on him.

  “Sorry.” He let it fall against the skin on her collar bone, and he stepped back. Invading her personal space wouldn’t bring the answer to his curiosity. “I’ve just been wondering what made you keep it for so long.”