Page 107 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

When they emerged and walked the three blocks to the apartment, it was like entering another world. Leafy trees and balconies filled with plants, and less foot traffic, most everyone wearing western dress. “This must be rich-people land,” Mariah said. “So many designer bags.”

“How can you tell?” Veronica asked.

Mariah twisted her lips. “What planet do you live on?”

Veronica shrugged.

They retreated to separate corners when they arrived in the apartment. Henry insisted Veronica take the bedroom, and she gratefully closed herself into the cool. She stripped off her blouse andjeans, resolving to dig out her skirt before they left again, and stretched out on the bed.

But of course she couldn’t sleep. A thousand images and snippets of interest and sounds and impressions crowded into her mind. Fabric melded with the walls of the café, which melded with a rickshaw rushing by mixed with an old woman begging, her face implacable.

So much,she thought.So much.Her phone was silent, because the time difference was twelve hours, and no one in her world would be awake at three in the morning.

What a relief!

On that relief, she dozed, and when she reemerged, she found a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and went to find Henry. He was stretched out on the couch, which was a little too short for him, so his ankles hit the armrest. “Hey,” she said. “Why don’t you come where it’s more comfortable?”

“Did you nap?” He sat up, shaking his shoulders.

“A little.” She found herself eyeing the tanned skin at the open neckline of his shirt, and the buttons. “It’s hard to let go of all the”—she gestured around her head—“everything in my head.”

“Anything I can do?”

She looked over her shoulder at the other closed door. “Maybe.”

He stood gracefully and held out his hand. “Happy to help.”

Two hours later, she awakened to sweaty nakedness. Henry was still asleep, sprawled out on the bed like a starfish, a sight that gave her a soft buzz of pleasure. Long limbs and not too much hair, his skin a warm olive she liked very much. Everything about him was appealing, honestly, the way it was when anyone was in the first rush of infatuation. In time, he wouldn’t be so perfect. In time, the sight of his wrists wouldn’t send sex vibes to all the parts of her. In time, seeing him wholly naked would lose its force.

But for now, right now, it was as potent as an elixir from a genie’s bottle, and she leaned in to touch the round of his biceps, the edge of his chest, his side. They’d made love only an hour ago, and she wanted to do it again, and that shamed her in some distant place. Until she realized he was watching her, and judging by the evidence, he wouldn’t mind another round. She straddled him boldly and bent to kiss him, fiercely glad to be right here, in this room, right now. He captured her head and kissed her back, and she thought he was glad, too.

When they emerged later to find something to eat and drink, Mariah was still in her room. Veronica frowned and knocked quietly.

“Come in!”

“We’re going to sample the cookies and snacks. You want to check them out?”

Mariah hurriedly gathered a bunch of papers. “Yes! I’ll be right there.”

Veronica paused. Was she hiding something?

But Mariah gave her the big blue eyes, and Veronica shut the door and came back into the dining area. They’d picked up some bananas and oatmeal on the way back to the hotel, but then had hit gold with a small market close by—the snack shelves had been overflowing with possibilities, cookies (biscuits) she knew, many she didn’t, the usual chips in odd flavors she’d seen in the UK, and many kinds of salty snacks she’d never heard of. They’d purchased a selection.

Mariah emerged, and again her color was looking better and better. Maybe the rage had just been a leftover from her bout of food poisoning.

Veronica brought all the packages to the table. “Should we start with sweet or salty?”

“All of them!” She grabbed a bag of bhel mix. “I’m so curious about this.”

On her side of the table, Veronica grabbed Happy Happy biscuits. “I can’t resist the name.” She tasted it, a kind of chocolate chip cookie. “Ooh, really sweet.” She pointed. “How about you, Henry? Don’t you want some junk food?”

“I was enjoying the show.”

“Do I have crumbs on my face?” Mariah asked.

Veronica brushed her own face. “No fun if you don’t get involved.”

So Henry dived in, too.