moment. “I could drive you back to Cuzco after the kids go to bed. It would be pretty late.”
“I can do late.”
“Then you’re invited.”
“Great,” she said, and they went back to their wiring.
Chapter
Eleven
Tonight I sat under the stars with Christine. I am not sure which was more potent: what she said, how she looked, or how I felt in her presence.
PAUL COOK’S DIARY
The group had completed the roof and two side walls when they broke for lunch. Christine saved a place in the shade while Paul picked up their box lunches. The contents of the box were the same as the day before. “Where’s a McDonald’s when you need one?” she said. Christine lifted the ham out of the sandwich and placed it back in the box.
Jim and Jessica emerged from a stairwell, picked up their lunches and came over to sit by them. As she approached, Jessica looked at Paul, then gave Christine a curious glance and sat down next to her. Jim sat next to Paul.
“I got the boys’ dorm wired,” Jim said to Paul. “They have lights now.”
“Thanks. The boys will be thrilled.”
Jessica leaned into Christine and asked softly, “What have you two been up to?”
“Stretching wire.”
“…and?”
“And what?” Christine asked.
“You look…comfortable.”
Christine shook her head. “You should talk. Tell Sledge your lipstick becomes him.”
Jessica’s head swiveled to look at Jim. “I didn’t even notice. Do you think anyone suspects something’s going on?”
“Jess, everyone knows something’s going on.”
A look of surprise crossed her face. “Really?”
“You two are about as obvious as a bad toupee.”
Jessica’s forehead furrowed. “That’s bad. He’s not supposed to fraternize with clients. It’s company policy. He could get fired.”
“It’s a little late to start worrying.”
She briefly looked concerned, then relaxed. “C’est la vie. What about you two?”
“I’ve just been helping him like you’ve been helping Jim.” She took a drink of the yogurt. “Well, maybe not quite. Which reminds me, I’m going to help at Pablo’s birthday party tonight.”
“What about our party?”
Christine unwrapped her chocolate. “You and Jim won’t notice that I’m not there.”
“Of course we will.”
“Jess…”
Jessica tried another tack. “How will you get back to Cuzco?”
“Paul offered to drive me.”
“Whatever,” Jessica said.
When they finished eating, Paul and Christine resumed their work on the greenhouse. Within a few hours the group had finished the metal netting and they pulled the plastic over the top of the frame. Then the process began again, sandwiching the plastic between two metal nets.
As the group got ready to leave, Paul and Christine went to the hacienda’s kitchen. Richard had already been there and the room smelled of baking pizza. Paul looked inside the oven. “Almost done.” He went to a cupboard and took out the cake mix and began reading the box.
“I can make the cake,” Christine said.
“All right.” He handed her the box.
“Betty Crocker, you’re a long way from home.” She looked at Paul. “We need vegetable oil and eggs.”
“Huevos y aceite vegetal.” Paul brought her a bowl of eggs, a bottle of oil, a ceramic bowl and a wooden spoon for mixing. The vegetable oil was in a slim amber glass bottle and the brown eggs still had hay and mud stuck to them. She bit her lip as she examined them.
“They don’t get fresher than that,” Paul said.
“I’m used to a more sterile world,” Christine said as she washed the eggs.
“Don’t forget to use the high-altitude recipe.”
“Oh, right.” She was surprised that Paul had thought of this and she hadn’t. She looked at the box. “Stir one tablespoon flour into the mix. This says thirty-five hundred to sixty-five hundred feet. Do you think that’s enough? We’re practically in space here.”
“You can add a little extra flour.” As she started to crack the eggs into
“I can do late.”
“Then you’re invited.”
“Great,” she said, and they went back to their wiring.
Chapter
Eleven
Tonight I sat under the stars with Christine. I am not sure which was more potent: what she said, how she looked, or how I felt in her presence.
PAUL COOK’S DIARY
The group had completed the roof and two side walls when they broke for lunch. Christine saved a place in the shade while Paul picked up their box lunches. The contents of the box were the same as the day before. “Where’s a McDonald’s when you need one?” she said. Christine lifted the ham out of the sandwich and placed it back in the box.
Jim and Jessica emerged from a stairwell, picked up their lunches and came over to sit by them. As she approached, Jessica looked at Paul, then gave Christine a curious glance and sat down next to her. Jim sat next to Paul.
“I got the boys’ dorm wired,” Jim said to Paul. “They have lights now.”
“Thanks. The boys will be thrilled.”
Jessica leaned into Christine and asked softly, “What have you two been up to?”
“Stretching wire.”
“…and?”
“And what?” Christine asked.
“You look…comfortable.”
Christine shook her head. “You should talk. Tell Sledge your lipstick becomes him.”
Jessica’s head swiveled to look at Jim. “I didn’t even notice. Do you think anyone suspects something’s going on?”
“Jess, everyone knows something’s going on.”
A look of surprise crossed her face. “Really?”
“You two are about as obvious as a bad toupee.”
Jessica’s forehead furrowed. “That’s bad. He’s not supposed to fraternize with clients. It’s company policy. He could get fired.”
“It’s a little late to start worrying.”
She briefly looked concerned, then relaxed. “C’est la vie. What about you two?”
“I’ve just been helping him like you’ve been helping Jim.” She took a drink of the yogurt. “Well, maybe not quite. Which reminds me, I’m going to help at Pablo’s birthday party tonight.”
“What about our party?”
Christine unwrapped her chocolate. “You and Jim won’t notice that I’m not there.”
“Of course we will.”
“Jess…”
Jessica tried another tack. “How will you get back to Cuzco?”
“Paul offered to drive me.”
“Whatever,” Jessica said.
When they finished eating, Paul and Christine resumed their work on the greenhouse. Within a few hours the group had finished the metal netting and they pulled the plastic over the top of the frame. Then the process began again, sandwiching the plastic between two metal nets.
As the group got ready to leave, Paul and Christine went to the hacienda’s kitchen. Richard had already been there and the room smelled of baking pizza. Paul looked inside the oven. “Almost done.” He went to a cupboard and took out the cake mix and began reading the box.
“I can make the cake,” Christine said.
“All right.” He handed her the box.
“Betty Crocker, you’re a long way from home.” She looked at Paul. “We need vegetable oil and eggs.”
“Huevos y aceite vegetal.” Paul brought her a bowl of eggs, a bottle of oil, a ceramic bowl and a wooden spoon for mixing. The vegetable oil was in a slim amber glass bottle and the brown eggs still had hay and mud stuck to them. She bit her lip as she examined them.
“They don’t get fresher than that,” Paul said.
“I’m used to a more sterile world,” Christine said as she washed the eggs.
“Don’t forget to use the high-altitude recipe.”
“Oh, right.” She was surprised that Paul had thought of this and she hadn’t. She looked at the box. “Stir one tablespoon flour into the mix. This says thirty-five hundred to sixty-five hundred feet. Do you think that’s enough? We’re practically in space here.”
“You can add a little extra flour.” As she started to crack the eggs into
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