The Secret Life of Daydreams (17 page)

“And I’ll never forget, it was a Saturday morning and I was cleaning my car and under the seat I found the pendant.” Sofia shook her head. “I hadn’t even noticed that I didn’t wear it anymore, but then the memory came to me.” She paused and looked down, trying to remember the expression. “What is it you Americans call it? Making out.” Unwillingly, her cheeks heated and she turned away. “One time we were making out and it came off.” Josh looked away as well, and Sofia didn’t want him to think there was more to it. “But we didn’t actually—you know, do anything more.”

Josh shook his head, clearly uncomfortable at the direction of her confessions. “You don’t have to say anything, Sofia. I wasn’t even thinking it.” His neck reddened, and if the situation weren’t so awkward, Sofia would have laughed.

Sofia was quiet for a moment. She wiped her face and cleared her throat. Josh shifted in his seat but didn’t say anything. “That night I prayed harder than I ever had before. I prayed and I cried myself to sleep. In the morning, I put on the pendant and I talked to my bishop. And then I met with my fiancé and told him the wedding was off.”

Josh drew his hands from his pockets and leaned forward. “How did he take it?”

“Not very well.” That was all she could say about it; too much pain she didn’t want to bring up. “It only cemented my decision.” Sofia straightened her shoulders. “Even if I never marry in this life, I never want to put myself in that kind of situation again.”

“Did he hurt you?” Josh asked almost immediately.

“No, not like that.” Sofia sighed. “It was a big argument, but not like that.”

Josh’s posture relaxed and he nodded.

Sofia turned to Josh, half amazed he hadn’t bolted at her confessions. “I’ve been to the temple and I had a little glimpse of the eternal happiness the prophets talk about.” And now she had to ask him, whether he liked it or not. “Why did you give it all away, Josh?

He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Sofia.” The seriousness in his voice warned her to back off, but Sofia ignored it.

“I can’t understand why you’re not active anymore.” Her voice took on a pleading tone, even as Josh closed himself behind a stony expression.

“Because life is not a rose-colored plan of happiness. People mess up and some messes are just too big to sweep under the rug.” Josh stood and walked to the car, the hardness of his stance erecting the last wall between them.

She hurried behind him, her voice rising, angry at his attitude. “How can you say that? You were the one who taught me about forgiveness and the atonement and the redemption we can have in our lives. No mess is too big,” she pleaded. “Ever.”

Josh stopped abruptly at the car door and turned his back to Sofia. She slowed down, afraid she’d gone too far. She didn’t really know him that well, did she? What was going through his mind right now? He leaned a hand on the hood and lowered his head.

“Josh.” What could she say that wouldn’t make things any worse?

After a minute, he rounded the back of the car and opened the passenger door for her. “Will you please get in?”

Her hesitation was infinitesimal but it didn’t go unnoticed. She came around the front of the car as he said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know that.” When she approached the door, he stepped back to let her in and then closed the door behind her.

Sofia sat with her hands in her lap, her mind racing and her heart keeping a beat with it. What had possessed her to talk like this to Josh? What a mess.

Josh slipped in behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition but didn’t start the engine. “Sofia.”

She breathed in and chanced a peek at him.

“I like you and I want to be friends with you. Want us to remain friends.” He corrected himself. “But this is not something I want to talk about.” His voice became softer. “Do you think you can respect my feelings?”

Sofia nodded. “Sim. Desculpa.” A simple sorry was not enough, was it? Of course she would respect his feelings. That was the least she could do after pounding him with questions.

When they arrived at her building, Josh got out with her and walked her to the front door. They hadn’t said a word between them on the way back to the city and she still didn’t know what to say that could make a difference at this point.

Josh broke the silence. “Thanks for coming today,” he said, with a semblance of a smile. The fatigue in his posture told a different story.

Wasn’t he even a little mad at her? Her heart softened and a wave of affection for him filled her chest. “Boa noite, Josh.”

* * *

Josh couldn’t escape it. Not even halfway around the world from where the mess of his life had unraveled.

After he dropped off Sofia, the restlessness and the fatigue warred inside him. He drove around the city first, then veered to the highway that led to Porto, only slowing down at the portagem to pay the toll. He drove with a hand on the wheel and the other on the stick shift, past the pines and the eucalyptus trees, the evenly spaced light posts, and the small villages on either side of the autoestrada, ignoring the posted speed limit and the ache in his chest.

When the red lights and the wail of a polícia car flashed at him from behind, it only surprised him they hadn’t caught up with him already. €100 for a speeding ticket. So much for the famed Portuguese hospitality. At the next exit to the local town, he turned around and made his way back to Braga at a slower speed, giving himself time to reflect on that last half hour with Sofia.

Everything had been going so well. Until he touched that blasted pendant around her neck. Why had he ever given her that? Had she truly broken off an engagement because she was saving herself for a marriage in the temple? Didn’t she know that marrying in the temple was not a guarantee for anything? He was the poster boy for the temple-marriages-dont’t-last slogan, the example for the hashtag #NothingLastsForever. And despite what Sofia said, some messes were indeed too big to clean up. His heart had been wrecked and he’d never been able to patch the hole, let alone refill any of it.

He needed to clear his head, leave the city. Not for good yet, but just for a few days. And in his inbox he found the excuse he wanted in the form of a wedding inquiry, this one for a last-minute job in Madrid, Spain. The clock on his cell phone read five minutes till midnight. If he left right now, he could be there well before the banks opened for business. After pacing around for a few minutes, he replied to the clients with a yes, and didn’t even wait for the deposit, one of his cardinal rules.

He tossed a few clothes into an overnight bag, repacked all of his equipment, and sent Paulo a quick text so they wouldn’t wonder where he was. Maybe he should send one to Sofia as well, but he could do that when he arrived at his destination. After all, it was from her he needed the distance.

On his way out of Braga, he stopped to fill the tank and bought a small thermos of strong coffee. From the look on the attendant’s face, he probably thought Josh was crazy since the Portuguese drank espresso in shot-sized cups, but an eight-hour drive demanded its own fuel. Just in case, he added a sorry-looking ham and cheese sandwich for the ride.

As he glanced at the rearview mirror, he looked even worse than the squished piece of bread. But he didn’t give a darn about it. One thing at a time, and right now he was going to Spain, and that’s all he could handle.

When Josh arrived in Madrid, exhausted and edgy from the excessive caffeine intake, he took a room in the first hotel that came up. Then he called his clients and set up a meeting for later that evening. Despite all the odds, he was able to catch a few hours of sleep, and by the time he met the bride and groom at a café downtown, he’d managed to clean up pretty well on the outside, even if he was still feeling like crap.

The bride was from Arizona and the groom from Madrid. Completely normal; lots of people met on vacation or working abroad. They told him how the photographer they’d hired had fallen through just three days before and how desperate they were to find a new one in time for the event taking place in just two days. They’d prayed it about it and were so grateful he’d accepted the job. He nodded and assured them he was glad to come.

But the biggest surprise came when they told him they were Mormon. Had he heard about the Mormons, they asked? Yes, he’d heard about them. They showed him a picture of the Madrid temple and explained how the ceremony inside was private and they only needed photo coverage once outside, and then at the reception, where they’d also be having a ring ceremony incorporating Spanish traditions to accommodate the groom’s family, who were Catholic. Again, Josh nodded, saying it would be no problem. As long as they understood he didn’t have a second shooter and that put limitations on the coverage, especially during the reception.

What were the odds of getting an inquiry from an LDS couple? His first wedding job in Madrid and they were members of the church. Oh the irony of running away from his Mormon past only to run into a Mormon wedding. What a large cosmic joke; somebody up there must be having a good laugh at his expense.

Josh spent three more days in Madrid. Due to their busy wedding-day schedule, he photographed the bridal and couple pictures before the wedding, in the morning. While the couple got married inside the temple, he did all the exterior landscape shots that helped with background compositions for the album and the digital slideshow. Next came all of the after-wedding photos on the temple grounds with family and friends, and later the reception at a quinta just outside the city, which turned out to be the perfect venue for an elegant wedding and a party of over one hundred guests.

In the end, Josh spent more time on the temple grounds in those few days in Madrid than he had since leaving Utah after the divorce. There, in the shadow of the straight-lined building and the undulating palm trees, the pull of something he’d lost so long ago tugged at him, constantly and continually, forcing him to slow down his thoughts and examine the wounds inside.

Sofia’s words ran through his mind. She was right, of course. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, how he remembered well the spirited discussions and the gospel teachings she’d been so eager, and yet cautious, to receive. He’d taught her the concepts and precepts, the same ones he’d been taught all his life. But his life was different now and there was no room for any of them anymore.

By the time Josh arrived back in Braga, he was ready to return to his work there. He’d missed the city and its quirks, the church bells at every corner, the simple homemade food, and the people.

But more than these, there was one person he’d missed especially.

Sometimes there was no escaping the everyday craziness that crowded her weeks.

Sofia finished braiding her hair and wrapped the elastic around the tail three times. She dressed in knee-length shorts and a t-shirt, not yet ready to wear a bathing suit. Mother sat in the living room in front of the television, but who could tell how much she really watched?

The job hunt hadn’t turned out any part-time jobs for the summer yet, and Sofia had spent most of the week at home watching Mother. But today was Saturday and she needed a break. Paulo and Margarida were going to the Amorosa Beach near Viana do Castelo and had invited her to come along. Sofia had said yes.

If she could actually leave the apartment. Nurse Antónia was set to arrive soon and Mother didn’t want Sofia to leave. Earlier Mother had talked and talked, enumerating all the reasons why Sofia had to stay. When that didn’t work, she’d reverted to the silent treatment, not acknowledging Sofia’s presence.

Sofia had been hiding in her bedroom for the past half hour while she got ready. Worry and guilt were hard emotions of which to let go, and she told herself once more that Mother would be all right while she was gone for a few hours.

Her cell phone pinged. It was a message from Josh.

Sofia, do you have some time today we could meet?

So Josh was finally back from his trip to Madrid. Not that he’d let her know he’d left, and she couldn’t blame him for the silence. She hadn’t heard from him since the disastrous trip to Sameiro, when she’d spilled her emotional baggage and then pushed him to talk about his inactivity in the church. Margarida had called her the next day and told her he was out of town—out of the country, actually—to cover a wedding for a few days, as Josh had told Paulo. Had it really been that bad that he couldn’t even stay in the same city with her?