Her colleague Emília approached and sat in front of her. “Doutora Paula went home sick. You’ll have to play hostess and give the tour to the American.”
Sofia stilled. “What American?”
Emília raised an eyebrow. “The one who’s coming to document the school for that language program in California. Remember? The sister school?”
That was today? How could she have forgotten? Everyone had been talking about it since the beginning of the school year.
A town in California had implemented a Portuguese dual-language immersion program in the school district and they’d chosen the city of Braga as their sister city, selecting one school each of elementary, preparatory, and secondary schools. This school where she worked being the oldest and most iconic high school in the city, it didn’t surprise her that they’d chosen it. The cultural exchange between teachers and students was set to start in the next school year. In the meantime, the journalist would photograph the school, interview teachers and their classes, and collect any other information he needed to add to the American website and for the brochure.
Emília set a key ring on the table. “You are to give the guy a tour of the school; nothing is off limits. Doutora Paula said he might need more than one day.” She stood. “If he needs any history on the building, take him to the library.”
Sofia pocketed the keys. “What do I need to know about this project?”
“Nothing in particular that we didn’t discuss already in the meetings.”
“And the man? Do we know who he is?”
Emília stopped by the door and reached for her phone. “Hang on. Doutora Paula told me his name in the email she sent this morning.” She tapped the screen. “His name is Joshua Conrad.”
Sofia closed her eyes and suppressed a groan. So much for keeping her distance.
*
Josh had spent the morning in the city, not taking as many of the planned photos as he needed, thanks to the rainy weather. It was now down to a drizzle, still annoying and inconvenient, but easier to manage than the earlier downpours. Instead of driving to the school, he walked, taking in the changes of the last eleven years.
The historic downtown area had undergone renovations. The city of Braga boasted a rich past, dating to before the Romans, and including a deep-seated Catholic tradition that stamped its mark in just about all aspects of daily life, from buildings to food to shopping. The streets within the historic district had been repaved in wide granite stones, or the classic black and white square limestones, and were now only open to pedestrians, with the traffic diverted around the district.
Josh liked the changes, the way they encouraged walking and a sense of community. He could leave the rental car at one of the nearby parking garages and spend the day at the city center. Once the weather dried up, a couple of days should be enough to get all the shots he needed. The elementary and junior high schools required a car ride, as did the university, but the high school was not too far from downtown.
As he made his way through the streets, an odd sense of familiarity hit him. Unbidden, the memories came as he passed by landmarks and shops—the fountain in the square where he had gotten wet once posing for a picture, the shoe repair shop where he had gone every other month, the corner bakery, with the best bread rolls and bolas de berlim in the city.
The smell of baked goods fresh out of the oven reached from up the street as he approached, and Josh smiled. Senhor Manuel still sat in his shop, with the doors wide open despite the light rain, surrounded by a pile of shoes and hunched over the shoe form block. And by the fountain a German Shepherd tried to climb over the edge as the owner tugged on his leash. These were vignettes of a way of life that resonated genuineness to Josh, fragments of a larger picture to which he tried to do justice with his camera. The idea for a new project took hold of him and he let the details swirl around in his mind.
When he reached the school, he stopped by the gate. The main staircase swept up to the front door, and some students lingered at the landing. Josh had passed by this building many times when he was a missionary, not giving it any more attention than a quick glance.
His purpose was different now and the clean lines and solid materials appealed to him. The mullioned windows hinted at high ceilings and dark interiors of an era gone by, blackboards and wooden desks, teachers standing at attention and students in uniforms. But the kids mulling around outside wore ear buds around their necks and bent their heads over cell phones.
Josh entered the secretaria, pulled his smartphone out of his pocket, and confirmed the name of his contact. He stepped to the wooden counter and the secretary looked up from behind her computer screen.
“Posso ajudá-lo?”
His Portuguese was still not up to par, but it was too late to bemoan that. “Sim. I’m here for Paula Soares.”
“Ah, é o senhor Americano.” She rose with a smile. “Doutora Paula is not here today but one of our teachers will give you the tour.” She turned to the phone and pressed a button, then said some quick words.
“Obrigado.” As long as he or she could answer his questions, it didn’t really matter who showed him the school.
“You can go right up.” She pointed to the hallway. “Turn left at the atrium and go up one floor. It’s the first big door on the right.”
Josh thanked her and then left the way she indicated. The atrium opened up to the outside court straight ahead as well to the archways leading to the east and to the west. The hallways, painted white at the top, with blue tiles in the middle, and granite near the stone floor, spoke of the building’s history. To his left, the stone rungs on the main staircase dipped in the middle, concave from all the feet that had climbed them before. He pulled out his camera from the bag and hooked the strap around his neck, spending a few minutes documenting the details.
A large clock on the wall marked the hour. The hallways were quiet and the doors to the classrooms closed, indicating that classes must be in session. At the top of the stairs Josh turned to the right. The large wooden door was ajar. Across from it, the closed double wide door with intricate carvings, imposing brass knockers and metal hinges, begged him to take a closer look with a macro lens, but it would have to wait.
He knocked. A chair scraped the floor, then the staccato of heels approaching. When the door swung open, he smiled at the woman, but his mouth fell open when he recognized her. Sofia Monteiro.
“Entra, Josh.” Sofia’s expression was friendly but guarded. “Please, keep the door open.”
She wore black heels and a knee-length black skirt with a pale pink blouse. Her hair was styled in a bun at the nape of her neck. She looked professional and in control. All images of the seventeen-year-old girl from his past slipped from his mind. This was a new Sofia, one he didn’t know at all. What would it be like to learn more about this attractive woman?
Josh followed her to a desk. It sat to the side of the room, perpendicular to the window overlooking the backyard court. “You could have told me you worked here.” His tone was clipped, and that was not his intention. “Sorry. You just took me by surprise.” Again.
Sofia raised her eyes to him then indicated a chair. “I didn’t know it was you until a few hours ago.” She shuffled some papers on the desk before looking at him. “Doutora Paula was supposed to give you the tour but she was sick this morning and asked that I do it instead.” After a pause, she continued. “But if that makes you uncomfortable, I can ask the director to assign someone else.”
She still had that straightforwardness he remembered. No minced words or things left unsaid.
“No, of course not.” Josh could put up with a bit of awkward. Besides, despite knowing it wasn’t a good idea, his curiosity about Sofia overrode the last of his reservations. “No need to call anyone else. I’m looking forward to the tour with you.” He meant what he said.
Her hesitation was so slight that had he not been watching her, he would have missed it. She reached to the right side of the desk and d
rew a badge, then handed it to him with a smile.
“Okay, then. Let’s get started. This is a visitor’s pass so you don’t get stopped by the personnel out on the grounds. If you come back another day to work inside, just call for Doutora Paula or for me.” In her hand, she held a ring of keys.
Josh nodded then followed Sofia out of the room. A faint scent of something floral and feminine trailed behind her, all too alluring for him to ignore. As they started the tour, his attention split between the building and the way Sofia talked. She spoke more slowly with him, enunciating the words, opening the vowels and accents, making it easier for him to understand her. His command of the language had been solid eleven years ago, and after a few more days in the country, he’d feel comfortable again to converse in Portuguese.
“How old is the building?” He climbed the stairs next to her, to the top floor.
“It’s celebrating its 179th anniversary this year as a lyceum, what is now called a secondary school. The building itself is a little older than that.”
Josh had visited the school’s website and read about its history, but he let Sofia tell him about it anyway. The school bell rang, an old-fashioned one, loud and clangy, and students swarmed the hallways, eyeing Josh and Sofia with curiosity as several of them greeted her. At times during the tour he caught himself noticing the way her hair had come loose around her face, cataloging its chestnut brown, or the way she rocked a little with enthusiasm when they visited a favorite room. Her voice pitched and sped up as she related the history of a particular feature.
An hour and a half later, Sofia had shown him the main school building from top to bottom, the new addition, the courtyard, the chemistry and physics laboratories, ending at the theater and gymnasium. They walked back under the canopy of the linden trees in the courtyard.
“How long have you been working here?” Josh capped the lens on the camera.
“Almost three years.” Sofia stepped on to the stone path. “But this is the school that I attended.” A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It’s one of my favorite buildings in Braga.”
Josh looked to the southern façade. “I can see why. It’s magnificent. And so much history.”
She turned to him. “Did you get enough photos?”
He shook his head and chuckled lightly. “Not even.” He placed a hand on the camera. “These are just preliminary images so I can make a plan of what I need. It’s going to take me longer than what I thought.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s great, that the school has so much to offer. Well, whatever we can do to help with this project, just let us know.”
At her excitement, Josh didn’t have the courage to tell her that taking longer at this school would set his schedule back for the rest of the project, which had a much larger scope.
Impulsively, he grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. “How do I get in contact with you if I have any questions?”
She clasped her hands in front and bit her bottom lip. “By email or cell phone?”
He shouldn’t ask her for either, but now it was too late to take it back. Josh drew his eyes from her mouth and tapped on the screen. “Sure. I mean, both will be fine.”
A little voice in the back of his mind told him what a bad idea it was, but he quickly shut it. It was more efficient to know how to reach her and, who knew, maybe he’d have a legitimate question. For the project, of course.
After a pause, Sofia recited her number and email address and Josh added the information to the contact list on his cell phone. She walked him to the front door and shook his hand. Soft skin and small fingers.
On the way to the hotel, Josh came up with three different excuses to send her a text, and by the time he arrived he’d talked himself out of each one.
“Sofia, I don’t need anyone to watch me.” Mother sat in the living room, her hands clenched on her lap. The brusque tone bespoke her state of mind.
In the bathroom, Sofia finished combing her hair then quickly wove it into a side braid. She was running late and didn’t have the time to explain to Mother why she couldn’t stay alone.
Having Dona Luísa come sit with her for a few hours was the best Sofia could do for now. Mother didn’t appreciate the intrusion but she’d left Sofia with very few options after her most recent behavior and forgetfulness. Leaving the iron on all day, the front door unlocked and ajar, and the telephone off the hook were a few of the things she’d done lately for which Sofia couldn’t trust her any longer. Already Sofia’s conscience prickled for the lack of a more permanent solution. Maybe after the meeting at the doctorate admissions office Sofia would have a more clear idea of where her budget would be with the new university expenses. But she worried for Mother and something had to be done.
When Dona Luísa arrived, Sofia grabbed her bag and headed to the foyer.
Mother leaned forward in her chair. “You’re leaving me with her?” Her voice pitched higher at the last word.
Sofia stopped. She looked at the wall clock in the kitchen. In the living room, Mother’s hands gripped the armrest.
Sofia sighed and walked back, kneeling at Mother’s side. “You’ll be all right, mãe.” She tipped her head toward Dona Luísa. “You don’t like to be alone, remember? She’s just keeping you company for a few hours until I return.”
Mother’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded without replying. Dona Luísa approached with a gossip magazine and Sofia left.
It was raining again and lately her car didn’t do well in the wet weather. She should have taken the bus and skipped the hassle of parking at the university campus. When she arrived late, the meeting was cut short and Sofia had to reschedule the rest for a different day.
When she put the key in the ignition, a sputtering sound reached her ears. Then nothing. She tried again and again, each time more and more impatient with the lack of response from her old car. It was useless, and at the worst possible time.
Sofia hit the steering wheel with her palm. Frustration and anger didn’t lead anywhere and, as the old saying went, what couldn’t be fixed was already fixed. At this very minute, there was nothing else she could do but find a way home somehow.
She called her neighbor to tell her she was walking and would be late, apologizing for the inconvenience. Before leaving, she exited the car and opened the hood. The rain pelted the umbrella and she stood there for a few moments, looking at all the parts, with the smell of old leaks and motor oil, and wishing it could be an easy fix. How would she get the money for the repair? And where would she find an honest garage that wouldn’t overcharge?
Balancing the umbrella on her shoulder, Sofia let the car hood down and wrestled with the latch. One more thing that didn’t work.
“Sofia?”
She yelped and dropped the umbrella. Her hand flew to her chest, and she leaned against the car with a heaving breath. When she turned around, she breathed in deeply. It was Josh. Only Josh.
He picked up the umbrella and handed it back to her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He spoke in English.
She inhaled, trying to steady her jumping heart. “It’s okay. I was distracted.” She was an idiot too.
“Is everything all right?” Josh turned his eyes to the car.
He wore the same navy rain jacket from when she’d seen him downtown, the camera bag on his back, and a small black umbrella in his left hand. He looked more casual than the day before at the school, but not any less attractive. Quite the contrary, if she was being honest. She was still not used to the lumberjack-type beard on his face, but it didn’t hide his good looks one bit.
“Everything’s fine.” She sighed. “My car has been dying a slow death for some months and it chose now to be done.”
His mouth quirked, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top one. What was she doing, looking at his mouth? Her cheeks heated at the thought, and she turned to face the car as well.
Josh handed his umbrell
a to her. He fiddled with the latch for a few moments and then drew something from his pocket. After inserting it, the hood unlatched and he propped it up.
“What is that? A magic key?” Sofia asked. “I always struggle with the latch.”
Josh opened his hand. “Just a Swiss army knife. It comes in handy at times.” He smiled as he returned the key chain to his pocket. “A gift from my grandpa Conrad.”
Josh leaned in and Sofia stood close, holding his umbrella over his back, even though it wasn’t working at keeping him dry.
He poked around for a few minutes. “How old is your battery?” His voice came muffled from his position under the hood.
Sofia leaned closer. “I’m not sure. Five or six years, I think?”
He straightened. “Can you get behind the wheel and give it a try?”
Sofia closed the umbrella and did as he asked, with the same results as before. She turned off the engine.
Josh bent over the battery for a few minutes, then closed the hood and rubbed his hands under the rain and shook them.
“The connectors are corroded. I tried cleaning them but that didn’t work. Looks like your battery’s dead as well.” He took his umbrella back. “It’s a simple fix but I’ll need to get some parts first.”
Sofia halted, her first impulse to say no. Just a minute before, she’d been ready to pray for help, and now that help had come, did it matter that it was Josh who offered it? She cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“You wouldn’t. Like I said, it’s easy and it won’t take too long.” Josh reached in his pocket and drew his cell phone. “Is there a place nearby where we can buy a car battery?” He tapped on the screen. “How do you say battery in Portuguese?”
“Bateria.” She’d told Josh five or six years but she couldn’t remember the last time she bought a new battery for the car.
“I think I got a place not too far.” He turned the phone for her to see.
Sofia took a glance then checked the time. “I can’t leave the car here for too long. The campus parking has some restrictions.”
The Secret Life of Daydreams Page 3