Kiss Me, Lynn (5 page)

“Here, you can see the Temple of the Sun and the Mamacuña palace, where women chosen by the king lived.
If you like, you can climb to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun”—he pointed—“so you can see the river, trees, and other vegetation that grow on the south and southwest sides of the pyramid, and the Pacific Ocean to the west.” Alex introduced them to a guide who spent every day at Pachacamac who would accompany them up the pyramid. Alex would follow to make sure everyone climbed safely and to answer questions from those too far from the guide to be heard.

Lynn was so
tired, she didn’t want to use up her energy climbing that enormous structure. How on earth was she going to keep up through so many days of touring?

“I’m going to stay here, I think,” she told Sharon, who looked relieved and said she’d stay with her.

Alex told her he understood the stresses of long flights. “Our driver will be in the van if you wish to sit inside.” He turned toward the pyramid. He turned once and smiled at them. At her? “Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

Sharon took a deep breath,
then said, “Why not?” She gave Lynn a look that said she’d even climb a pyramid to spend some time with their guide.

Lynn pulled out
the guide book on Peru that she’d brought, and tried to read about the site, but she couldn’t focus and kept nodding off. So, she watched the long line of tourists ascending the pyramid on a well-traveled pathway, and tried to pick out their group. There was Barb next to Vicki and B.J., with Cathi, Dorothy and Sheila right behind. Sheila was turned halfway toward Alex, who gestured in the way Lynn had already identified as his way of embellishing whatever he was teaching. Sharon brought up the rear beside Alex. Lynn could imagine the look on her face—fascination. His white hat didn’t shine in the sun, since there was no sun, but it was certainly brighter than the color of the pyramid and all the ground around it.

She realized, then, that the site
—all of it—was the same gray-brown as the city had been. No wonder she couldn’t muster any energy. One thing she loved about Virginia was the vast array of color. A hundred shades of green in the foliage, thousands of flowers of every hue, and buildings constructed with a thousand different materials in distinctive colors, gave her all the energy she ever needed. This monochrome environment was overpowering her.

Lynn
looked for a place where she could sit and simply become part of the site. People wandered everywhere. She left the pathway to cut across an area covered in footprints, but a man in uniform called to her with a frown on his face. Her Spanish wasn’t great, but she could tell he didn’t like her cutting across that area. She mumbled, “Sorry. I didn’t realize—“

He walked toward her, waving one arm in a gesture clearly meant to
direct her back onto the path.

Well.
That was interesting. He clearly did not want her walking on his dirt!

She decided to do as Alex had suggested and sit on the bus. She made her way back and found the driver asleep in his seat.
She tiptoed past him, but he still roused. When he saw her, he got out and stood by the front of the bus.

Sinking into the soft seat, Lynn took several deep breaths and tried to wake up a little.
She thumbed through the guide book, wondering what it must it have been like to live here. Thousands of people had called Pachacamac home through the centuries. Did they have full cloud cover most of the year back then? If so, did they paint their homes and the pyramid bright colors to make up for the absence of color around them? She’d ask Alex when he got back.

That turned her thoughts to Alex.
Was he married? Did he have a girlfriend? The answer, she knew, had to be yes to at least one or the other. He was too handsome and pleasant not to have someone who loved him, and who enjoyed being with him whenever he wasn’t sharing the history of Peru to a group of
turistas
. She’d have to ask him.

But why did it matter?
She shouldn’t be interested in his personal life, but she was. She wanted to know if, at the end of the day, he’d be going home to a woman who loved and appreciated him, the way he clearly deserved to be appreciated. For a moment she envied him.

Then she realized she didn’t know him at all.
How could she? They’d been in the same space—at the hotel last night, then in the van this morning—for only a few hours. When he wasn’t being a guide, he might be a completely different person, but she doubted it. There was a goodness about him that couldn’t be faked. She felt comfortable around him. Surely, if he weren’t as nice off duty as he was to the group, she could tell. Then, she wondered what he thought about all of them? What did he think about her? To him, she was only another
turista
—and a puny, tired one at that! He probably thought she was out of shape since she hadn’t had the energy to tour even the first place he’d taken the group.

Or maybe he understood that she was just tired from the long flight.
Peru was the same as Eastern Time in the U.S., so jet lag wasn’t the answer. Finishing another school year, knowing she’d be teaching history backward next year, and not having the energy to jump into the planning of that new curriculum (even though Sharon thought she’d been as enthusiastic as she always was during the summer) was part of her lethargy, too.

Burnout?
Of course not. She loved teaching. But right now, teaching seemed like a job instead of an adventure. She’d come to Peru expecting to recharge her enthusiasm. That obviously wouldn’t happen if she couldn’t climb a pyramid!

It wasn’t long before the others returned.
From the looks of exhilaration they displayed, Lynn wished she’d gone with them.

“So, how was it?”

“Wonderful! Are you feeling okay?” Barb held her hand to Lynn’s forehead. “You aren’t warm. Just tired?”

“I was.
But I’m feeling better. Thanks.”

Alex urged them back into the van for a short drive to the small museum tha
t displayed artifacts of Pachacamac, which proved to be interesting. Yet, Lynn still had difficulty working up enthusiasm for what she was seeing. Maybe lunch would help her perk up a little.

Alex
’s expression included concern. She smiled to let him know she was okay. But was she?

<><><><>

Alex worried about this lovely
turista
. How could she be tired already? They had so many more places to go and see! He’d never expected her to stay behind on the first set of ruins. Yet, there seemed to be something other than fatigue causing her to choose not to climb the pyramid. What could it be? He decided he’d sit with her at lunch and see if he couldn’t coax a smile from her.

Chapter 5

When they got to the Larco Museum,
Lynn walked along the winding ramp almost in a daze. Flowers surrounded them, yet she couldn’t focus on their beauty. All she could see was the overcast sky, muting the colors until they almost appeared dull and lifeless. Under full sun, they would’ve been spectacular.

They were going to have lunch, then tour the Museum.
Diners sat outside on the patio. Several tables had been pushed together to accommodate their group, plus Alex and the driver. The chairs were red, green, and other colors, adding a festive touch. If only the sun would shine! Lynn sat at the end of the table, facing the bougainvillea. Bougainvillea was one of her mother’s favorites. She’d always hung baskets of them on her covered porch during the summer. What would she think about so many different colors? Lynn realized she was almost holding her breath. She closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, then Sharon, seated beside her, nudged her elbow.

“Are you okay?
You look...weird.”

“Thanks.
I’m fine. Just wiped out by very little sleep and a morning in a gray-brown environment.”

Sharon’s forehead wrinkled.
“You’re right. The whole place was kind of drab. It was beautiful from the top of the pyramid, though. There were all kinds of trees and shrubs down by the river.” Sharon paused. “What’s wrong? Are you thinking about your mother?”

Lynn nodded.
“She would’ve loved the flowers.” Tears stung her eyes and she reached for the cloth napkin and dabbed them away. “Nothing I can do for her here.”

“
Not even if you were at her house, waiting on her hand and foot, which she’d hate. Parents do what parents do. They don’t usually ask their children if what they decide is okay.”

Lynn
smiled at her friend. “I know. Mom will be okay. I just wish the timing had been better.”

At the end of the table, next to Lynn, Alex scraped the chair back and sat down.
He smiled at Lynn and Sharon, then frowned. “What’s wrong,
Señorita
? I see sadness in your beautiful eyes.”

What a charmer he was.
Lynn smiled back. “It’s nothing. I’m just ready for some good Peruvian food!”

“It won’t be long.”
He studied her expression again. “I hope to see you smile when you taste the
ceviche
.”

“I promise I will.”
Without thinking, she patted his hand, then felt her face flush with embarrassment when he turned his hand and his fingers closed around hers. She hesitated only a moment before placing her hands in her lap. “What are we having for lunch?”

“You have choices for each course.
It’s all very delicious, I promise.”

She glanced toward the building,
seeking a distraction. “Look at those incredible staghorn ferns trailing down the walls!”

Sharon exclaimed and pointed them out to the others.
Lynn stole a glance at Alex, who was still smiling at her.

“Did you see the Indian Paintbrush?”
He pointed.

“Beautiful.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Very beautiful.”

The waiters brought drinks to everyone.
Alex spoke up so everyone could hear. “This is a Peruvian drink I know you all will love. It’s called a Pisco Sour.”

Lynn sipped, then
smiled and sipped again. “It tastes a little like a margarita, only sharper. Is it made with tequila?”

Alex laughed.
“No, it’s made with Pisco, which is made from white grapes. It’s a type of brandy.”

“I love it!” Vicki said, and the others agree
d. They gave their food orders to the waiters, then returned to conversation. Sharon chattered enough for Lynn, too, which she appreciated. Dorothy, sitting across from Lynn, questioned Alex more about the Pyramid of the Sun. Lynn tried to pay attention, but her mind wandered to New Mexico, then back to when Alex had briefly held her hand.

When t
he waiters arrived with their food, Alex got everyone’s attention and pointed to a large spoon on each plate, containing vegetables and what appeared to be fish and shrimp. “This is
ceviche
. See if you like it.”

Lynn
tasted it. There was a strong taste of lime. “It’s delicious. Not at all what I expected.”

“It’s made with several kinds of raw seafood, marinated in lime juice.”

“The lime cooks the seafood, right?”

“
Yes. I love it.”

Lynn
noticed that his plate was half-covered in
ceviche
. Lynn had ordered several different foods, including a type of potatoes in sauce. She enjoyed everything and began to feel more awake and energetic. She hadn’t had a lot of breakfast this morning—only what was on the buffet at the hotel—so she suspected she just needed food.

After lunch, with her head swimming a little from the
Pisco Sour—which she’d definitely want to try again—they wandered through the courtyard, marveling at the flowers, then back up the ramp to the
Museo de Larco
. A museum guide took over and showed them through the incredible collection of pre-Inca artifacts, including thousands of vessels made by the Moche.

The guide explained, “The Inca did not have a written language, but archeologists have learned a great deal about how they lived from the
drawings painted on the pots, bowls, and other vessels they used.”

Lynn couldn’t believe how many vessels had survi
ved the conquest of the Spanish. Seeing the Inca as pagan people, the Spanish had done everything they could to destroy the Inca civilization and all traces of their religion. Yet, here, recorded on their pottery, were depictions of their daily life as vivid and detailed as any written record might have been. What a treasure! There were several large rooms filled with glass shelves holding this miraculous record. The Inca had survived the conquest of their country in spite of everything the Spanish had done to obliterate it.

Lynn could’ve spent a full day in the Larco Museum
, studying each vessel more carefully, trying to imagine what it must have been like to be an Inca woman. She also wished she could take a closer look at the magnificent
kipus
. An astonishing creation of knotted strings hanging side by side from a cross string, each
kipu
’s knots had been tied in specific ways. No two were the same. Lynn had read about these forms of keeping records of livestock, food supplies, people—whatever needed to be counted—but she’d never seen a real one. It resembled an intricate necklace. Perhaps she’d be able to buy a
kipu
necklace at one of the markets.

Unfortunately, their time
at the museum was brief. Before she was anywhere near ready to leave, it was time to get back on the bus to speed off to their next destination.

Lynn and Sharon were last to board.

“Did you enjoy the museum?” Alex asked Lynn.

“Extremely.
The Inca are still alive in their pottery and in the
kipus
.”

“Yes.
And there are still millions of Inca alive today. Including me.”

“You’re Inca?”

“Partly. The Mestizo Indians are descended from the Inca.” He turned his head. “Don’t you love my beautiful Inca nose?”

Lynn and the others who heard him laughed and agreed that it was, indeed, a beautiful nose.

When Alex took her hand to guide her onto the bus, he said, quietly, “I am happy you are feeling better.” Lynn turned to thank him. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

She made her way to the back and sat down beside Sharon, who grinned at her.
“Well, well. For someone who wasn’t interested in a fling, you seem to have attracted the attention of our most handsome Peruvian guide.”

“You’re being silly.
He’s just nice, that’s all.”

“He didn’t kiss
my
hand when he helped
me
onto the bus.”

Lynn didn’t have an answer for that
, so she gazed out the windows to see what Alex was describing. Then she realized he’d stopped narrating for a moment and was quiet for a change. She leaned over just enough to look between the seats and saw him sitting in the front passenger seat, turned around, smiling at her.

Time to break the trance.
“Where are we going next?” she called.

Alex stood and launched into a description of th
e next place on their itinerary.

Lynn tried to keep her mind on what he was saying, but thoughts of home and her parents interfered with her concentration, along with their guide’s kind eyes
and gentle touch. She had to nip this in the bud. She’d promised Sharon—and herself—no romantic flings on this trip. They were in another country, on another continent—and in a different hemisphere, for goodness sake. After this tour, they’d be back in Virginia. Alex would be in Peru! Long-distance relationships simply didn’t work. Talk about long-distance! How many thousand miles was it from Virginia to Peru? She’d have to look it up so she could tell her students next year when they studied the Inca.

They arrived at
a cathedral and wandered through the enormous building, with statues of saints and the Virgin Mary in alcoves along the sides and benches for worshipers in the center. A hallway along the side of the huge room had more alcoves and benches for people who wanted to sit and pray.

Since Lynn wasn’t Catholic, she felt no real connection to th
is cathedral that meant so much to the people who had come here for exactly that reason—closeness and connection. That thought triggered another. Tremendous distances were possible between two people sitting in the same room together, just as closeness was possible between two people who were physically far apart.

Her parents, for example, had often shared a home, yet never stayed in the same room for longer than a meal.
Her father had his office and her mother had hers, and that’s where they went after having supper in the kitchen, reading or going through notes for lectures at the table instead of having a conversation about the day’s activities. What had her mother said? They’d grown apart. While living in the same house.

Lynn watched Alex’s expressions while he talked
quietly, not wanting to intrude on those who were there to worship. From what Sharon had told her, he usually didn’t conduct tours in Lima, but Barb had requested he be their guide throughout their tour. He specialized in tours of Cusco, the Sacred Valley, and Machu Picchu. Didn’t she remember something about him taking groups to Nazca to see the enormous outlines of animals and figures on the Nazca Plains? She’d always wanted to see them. Maybe the next time they came— She shook her head. The next time? She was hardly paying attention this time!

She
had come to experience the land of the Inca, to tour the Incan capital city of Cusco, and to see the Inca city that had captured the imagination of anyone who’d ever seen the classic photograph of Machu Picchu.

It was clearly time for her to wake up, physically and mentally, and remember why she was here!
If she couldn’t pay attention to Alex’s expert explanations of what they were seeing through the windows of the bus, then she had no business being here. Being here was a once-in-a-lifetime gift to herself! It was time to savor every minute of this miraculous experience, and that included enjoying her new friendship with Alex Vereau. Not a fling! A friendship. Just because he’d kissed her hand didn’t mean they were more than friends. Right?