The Secret Life of Daydreams

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The Secret Life of Daydreams Page 24

by Whitney, Lucinda


  Not a word was said between them and so much was left unsaid.

  The rest of the day blurred in Sofia’s mind and she struggled through work. When her boss came to her and told her to leave an hour earlier, Sofia took the chance and went home.

  She was changing into her old sweats when her phone pinged with a text message from Margarida.

  Will you be leaving work soon?

  I’m home already.

  Okay, I’m coming over.

  Twenty minutes later, Sofia opened the door to find Margarida clutching a plastic shopping bag in each hand.

  “Did you have dinner yet?” Margarida stepped in and Sofia followed her to the kitchen.

  “Not yet; I’m not too hungry.”

  “Well, this baby doesn’t like it when I miss meals, so we’re cooking dinner.” She opened the door to the freezer and shoved two containers in there. “And then ice cream for dessert.”

  Sofia’s mouth curved in a half-smile. “Stracciatella or pistachio?”

  “Both.” Margarida smiled and started emptying the contents of the bags.

  “And what’s for dinner?”

  “Caldo verde.” Margarida dropped four large potatoes in the sink.

  “In July? Isn’t that a little out of season?”

  “Tell that to the baby.” Margarida rubbed her barely-there belly. “I’ve been craving it all week—the starchy potato broth, the olive oil floating on it, the kale, and especially the chouriço.” She rummaged through one of the plastic bags. “Do you have an onion? I forgot to bring one.” She opened the door to Sofia’s pantry and stopped. “Whoa. When did you stock up?”

  Sofia leaned against the doorjamb. “That happened after I came home from the hospital. I’ll give you one guess.”

  Margarida’s expression brightened up. “Josh did this? Wow.”

  Sofia reached in for an onion, then walked to the sink and added it to the potatoes. “You should have seen the refrigerator.”

  “If this isn’t love then I don’t know what love is.” Margarida closed the pantry door.

  Sofia stilled and turned to Margarida. “Love?”

  “Some guys bring you flowers and some guys give you a three-month food storage supply. And so well organized too.”

  Indeed Josh had gone beyond simply stocking up her pantry. Was it a sign of his love for her? “He also added extra shelves and storage containers,” Sofia said.

  Margarida set a bag of pre-washed kale to the side. “What did you say to him when you saw it?”

  “You know those four days he spent here helping me out? It wasn’t until after he left that I saw the pantry. I did tell him thank you the next time he came over, but it hardly seemed enough.”

  Margarida sat down at the table and cut the chouriço into thin, even slices. “I’m sure he didn’t do it for the thanks. Service is the pure love of Christ. ”

  “I think you mean charity.”

  “And isn’t service charity? It’s like when Paulo changes Amélia’s diapers when I’m feeling pukey. He doesn’t like doing it but he does it because he knows how much harder it is for me.”

  “Instead of bringing you flowers.”

  Margarida smiled. “Exactly. He still brings me flowers once in a while but he knows I appreciate it more when he changes diapers or makes dinner or goes hunting for the ingredients to make caldo verde in July.”

  Sofia paused. “Josh’s flowers were all the times he did things for me.” He’d seen the need and he’d helped without being asked. All that Josh had done for her—from that first time at the university campus parking lot when he came to her aid to the farewell gifts this morning—he’d served her countless times.

  “And you can tell a lot of someone’s personality by the way they serve others,” Margarida added.

  Josh was a good man. His actions spoke of it. Whether his activity in the church would make him a better man was not up to her to decide, and she’d judged him about it over and over again. Sofia’s heart sank at her behavior. Why hadn’t she appreciated Josh better before he left?

  While the soup cooked, Sofia retrieved her laptop and the CD case and flash drive. She sat at the table next to Margarida and pushed the drive into the slot. “Josh brought me this today before he left.”

  Margarida leaned toward the laptop. “What are they?”

  “He said it’s got the pictures he took during this trip.”

  “The ones he took of us and Amélia were awesome. He said we’ll be getting a large family one, and I can’t wait. We never had pictures taken of our little family before.”

  Sofia opened the gallery and started scrolling through pictures of her and Josh in all the places they’d visited together: Citânia de Briteiros, Sameiro, Amorosa Beach, Quinta do Souto, the Solaris mansion, the high school where she’d worked, and in downtown Braga. Her heart stilled. Photo after photo, place after place—they looked happy together. Like they belonged together.

  “Oh my,” Margarida said. “The way he looks at you.”

  Sofia’s chest squeezed and she brought a hand up over it. She had no words.

  Josh had also added the panoramic photos of each place and other places in northern Portugal, the same ones he used on his travel log series.

  “He’s so talented,” Sofia said in a small voice, awed and stricken with reverence for Josh’s work. “Oh I’m going to miss him so much,” she finally admitted out loud.

  Her fingers went up to brush the pendant and she found it gone. Josh had it now, the small object that had meant the most to her in the past years, the one reminder of things that could not be. How many times had she dropped to her knees, pleading with Father in Heaven only to receive the same answer each time? Wait. Now is not the time. Just wait.

  Sofia took a deep breath. “I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

  Margarida rested an arm around Sofia’s shoulders. “It hurts because it’s love.”

  It was love, wasn’t it? She loved Josh. Completely and irrevocably. Why had she not seen that before?

  Sofia removed the flash drive and turned down the screen. “I tried so hard to think of him as a friend only, nothing more than a friend.” Until they had kissed. Her daydreams had taken a leap after their first kiss.

  “And you’re surprised that you fell in love with a friend?”

  “It’s been so crazy and stressful the whole time, so different from my idea of falling in love.”

  “Nobody talks about it, but falling in love is not always that dreamy development we read in the romance books. Most times, it is stressful and crazy.” Margarida turned off the heat on the soup and set two wide bowls on the counter. She ladled the soup into each one, poured a thread of extra virgin olive oil, and added several slices of chouriço on top. “Are you going to keep in touch with him?”

  Sofia stood and filled two glasses with water then placed them on the table. “He asked if he can check on me once in a while.”

  “You said yes, right?” Margarida carried the bowls separately.

  “I didn’t know what to say. I nodded, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to just cut ties with him. Why prolong the torture when we can’t be together?”

  “And you wouldn’t want him in your life even as friend?”

  Sofia raised her hands. “What good would that do? He’s there and I’m here and we can never be together,” she repeated. “And eventually—eventually he’ll meet the right girl and marry her.” Her voice lowered, and she shook her head. “I don’t want to see that. It’ll hurt too much.”

  It all came down to her weakness and selfishness, and trying to keep herself away from more pain. Sofia didn’t have the courage to suffer for an impossible love, to make her life contrary and pursue the dreams she couldn’t have. If wait was the answer, then wait she would do, whatever waiting meant.

  In the end, Sofia buried her heart in silence. The decision to follow her head settled as easily as the daily schedule of her life, calm and predictable
.

  When Josh landed at the Salt Lake City International Airport, he forced himself to keep walking toward the luggage carousel. The desire to find the next plane back to Portugal warred inside him with the responsibility to stay. He had to stay.

  But for the first time in his life the meaning of the Portuguese word saudade filled his mind, free of misunderstandings—it was more than the longing and the melancholy of missing the people and the place, like the dictionaries said. So much more. All the years of traveling, the leaving and the pointless arriving, the haunting feeling of never being home, had only ceased when he was with Sofia. How ironic that he’d filled the void in his heart only to see it empty again.

  Laureanne waited for Josh at the bottom of the escalator. He’d hardly given any thought to how he’d get to the hospital or where he’d stay, and the relief of seeing a familiar face was welcome.

  She hugged him. “Welcome back, little brother.”

  It struck him how tall she was. The last person he’d hugged was smaller and she’d fit so perfectly in his arms. “Hi, Laureanne.” Josh shook himself mentally, pushing his thoughts of Sofia away. They’d only drive him crazy. “Good to see you, sis. Are you giving me a ride to the hospital?”

  “He came home yesterday.”

  Josh grabbed his suitcases and followed Laureanne to the short-term parking lot. “Who’s staying with him?”

  “He’s staying with us.” She turned on the blinkers and merged into traffic. “Grandpa has been living with us for almost two years now.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “He fell and broke his arm and we finally managed to convince him to come home with us.” She glanced at Josh.

  “Why did nobody tell me about this?”

  “If I remember, you were traveling at the time and Ashley wasn’t quite sure where. We tried to contact you and your Internet access must have been splotchy. Grandpa recovered quickly and I guess we forgot to tell you after that.”

  Josh stared out the window. He’d written off his family to the point where they didn’t know where he was. Keeping in touch with Ashley every few months wasn’t enough but he hadn’t seen that at the time. “I’m sorry.” Shame washed over him. “I’ve really messed it up with everyone, haven’t I?”

  Laureanne reached over and squeezed his forearm. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. Nobody will be giving you a lecture.” She paused and smiled. “Well, maybe Grandpa will. You know how he is.”

  “Yes, nobody tells Sterling Conrad what to do.” He suppressed an eye roll. “What did the doctors say about the heart attack?”

  “It was a wake-up call.” She blew out a breath. “He got lucky this time, and he needs to slow down. If he learns to take care of himself, and let us help him, he’ll be all right.”

  “That’s a relief.” For a while there, Josh had feared he wouldn’t make it back in time.

  “Yes, it is.” She glanced at him. “Now tell me what you’ve been up to. Where did you go this time?”

  His lips quirked upwards. “I was in Portugal. Northern Portugal, to be more exact.”

  “Your old mission grounds. I bet that was interesting.”

  “You have no idea,” Josh said. Three months had not been long enough there.

  Laureanne drove in silence for a moment, as if knowing Josh was not ready to share about his trip yet. She turned to him. “I better give you fair warning. Everybody’s in town.”

  Josh raised an eyebrow. “Who’s everybody?”

  “Mom and Dad are still on their mission in Mexico, but you already know that.”

  He did know that. Was it their fourth mission?

  Laureanne continued. “But everybody else is coming. Heather and her family are up from St.George. Ashley was the only one out of state and since California is not that far, they managed to come for a few days for the holiday weekend. They should be arriving tomorrow night.” She waved a hand. “Kimberly and Tiffany are just around the corner; you know that too.”

  Josh nodded. Was he ready to see the whole clan? Why were they all descending on the home base? Josh turned to her in alarm. “Were you all planning a funeral or something?”

  Laureanne glanced at him. “What? No!”

  “Then why is everyone home?”

  “I admit it seems a bit coincidental, especially with Grandpa just home from the hospital, but Tiffany’s youngest is being baptized, Kimberly’s youngest is being set apart as a deacon, and Zach is having his farewell.”

  “Zach who?”

  Laureanne’s eyebrows shot up. “Zachary Merrill, my youngest child.”

  “Little Zach is going on a mission?” Josh couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “When did that happen?”

  “Well, little brother, let me update you on the family.”

  He sorely needed the update. Maybe he should even take notes.

  For the first time in a long while, Josh didn’t have any plans of where he was going next or where he’d be staying. But whatever life brought, keeping in contact with his family was a priority he wouldn’t put off any longer.

  When Laureanne pulled up to the large house on the east bench, Josh looked up in surprise and Laureanne caught it.

  “You didn’t know Craig and I bought Grandpa and Grandma’s house a few years ago, did you?”

  Josh gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sure Ashley must have said something.” No wonder Grandpa was living with Laureanne’s family. He was right at home.

  She shook her head. “Come on. You’ll be staying in the basement, in the small room.”

  The small room was Grandma’s sewing room. He paused and regarded the two-story house, so familiar and yet so different from his childhood memories. “I can go back to town and grab a room somewhere, if that’s easier for everyone.”

  “Nonsense, there’s plenty of room. The younger kids will be sharing the large room and rolling out their sleeping bags.”

  Just like they had when they were kids.

  She walked around the side of the house and Josh followed. “Besides, everyone wants to see Uncle Josh, the family adventurer.”

  Uncle Josh, the family black sheep, was more like it. He let out a deep breath and Laureanne cut him a glance as if she’d heard his thoughts.

  Laureanne paused at the door. “Josh, I know this must be overwhelming to you, but we love you and we’re glad to have you back with us. Remember that.” She brought an arm around his shoulders for a quick squeeze and then pushed the door open. “We’re home,” she yelled as she walked down the long hallway.

  Josh stepped in. The old house smelled the same, weathered wood, and bread dough in the oven, and cinnamon. He let the scents wash over him. The family saying was that Grandma Conrad had baked so often that even the walls smelled like her baking.

  Thank goodness some things never changed.

  *

  The night before had been crazy with so many grownups and children around, and Grandpa had sent down a note asking Josh to meet him in his room at six in the morning.

  With his body clock still on Portugal time, Josh slept a few hours and was up early, before the sun crept from behind the mountains. The house was quiet, the laughter and conversation from the night before just echoes now. He grabbed a root beer from the fridge and walked out onto the wide back deck. The mountains hid behind a veil of darkness but the smell of the dew on the dirt, the corn growing in the garden plot, and the pine trees beyond the fence line took him back to the summers he’d spent there as a little boy. A lifetime away.

  “You might as well come up,” a male voice said. “No use waiting till six if you’re down there already.”

  Josh turned to the voice and looked up. Grandpa sat on a rocker in the bedroom’s balcony, the light from inside drawing his silhouette against the pre-dawn darkness.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Bring a chair with you and join me out here.”

  A few minutes later, Josh bent down and gave Grandpa Conrad a hug. “It�
��s good to see you, Grandpa.”

  Grandpa wore striped pajamas that hung loosely from his narrow shoulders. He looked thinner than the last time Josh had seen him and his hair had lost the rich dark brown of years before.

  “So it takes me almost kicking the bucket for you to come see me?” His voice hadn’t changed, strong and with a hint of defiance in his words.

  If he could crawl into a little hole, Josh would. “Sorry, Grandpa.” He settled against the chair. “I should have visited more often.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Grandpa’s voice took an amused tone. “But at least it brought you home.” He winked and Josh couldn’t help a small smile.

  “Why are you up so early, Grandpa? Are you resting well?”

  “It’s the darn meds. They make me fall asleep early but then I wake up early too. What’s your reason? Jet lag?”

  Josh leaned forward on his elbows. “Yep. It’ll take me a few days to adjust.”

  “Still taking pictures?”

  Josh nodded. “Still taking pictures.”

  “How is that working for you?”

  “Really well, Grandpa, and no, I won’t be coming back to the office.” Grandpa had tried to persuade Josh to stay in architecture.

  “Where were you this time?”

  “In northern Portugal.”

  Grandpa’s eyes widened. “Really? Did you get to see people you knew back then?”

  Josh rubbed the back of his neck before replying. “Yeah, I did.”

  Grandpa rocked in silence for a moment. “What’s her name?”

  “Who?”

  “The girl you left in Portugal.”

  “How do you know I left a girl there?”

  “Just a hunch from your old grandpa. Plus, that little pause of yours before you replied, when you rubbed your neck. Your dad still does the same thing when he’s trying to buy time.”

  Josh turned his face to look between the trees. In the early-morning gray sky, the mountains were like rough sketches, black and white images waiting for the sun to develop the full color. Everything here was so different from the rounded hills in Braga. There it was, that little pang of saudade, chewing at the sides of his heart.

 

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