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Authors: Carol Anne O'Marie
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look on María José’s face she wasn’t profiting much from the lesson.
Heidi listened intently to whatever Pepe whispered to her, giggling softly, now and again, before taking a sip of wine. Directly across the table Roger DeAngleo was pontificating.
It is just as well his wife’s back was to him, Mary Helen thought, watching Lisa Springer, her full mouth set in a littlepout, pretending to vacuum in every syllable. Wordlessly she stoked his male ego—and from the look of it, that wasn’t all she was stoking—into a roaring flame.
The professor, seemingly enamored by her flattering attention, hardly stopped for breath. Watching them, Mary Helen recalled a stanza from an old poem of Swift’s:
’Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery’s the food of fools;
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit.
From where she sat, Roger DeAngleo seemed to be sucking in considerably more than a bit.
Sipping her wine, Sister Mary Helen settled back, resigned to observing her fellow pilgrims. Actually she rather enjoyed it. She was constantly amazed at how much one can learn about people by merely watching them.
For example, although the friction between María José and Pepe was overt, there was also something definitely amiss with the DeAngelos. And she suspected as much about the Fongs. They, however, were the hardest to read. On the other hand, the bickering Bowmans were having a wonderful time, and Lisa and Heidi seemed to have made up whatever differences they had had.
And differences do occur when you’re traveling with someone, married or no. It is not easy. Even Eileen and she had their moments. Glory be to God! she thought facetiously. We’ve been on this jaunt for only two days. We’ll be killing each other before the week is out!
Heidi giggled, and from across the table Lisa and Roger DeAngelo mouthed in
simpatía
, to put it “Spanishly.” Another fascinating phenomenon, Mary Helen mused, is how quickly relationships develop on tours. Perchance it was thebeing thrown together in a kind of time warp. The unfamiliar places, the strange customs, and the foreign language set a stage for instant intimacy.
Whatever the cause, one minute we’re perfect strangers; the next we’re regaling each other with the most personal details of our lives, much as Heidi had done this afternoon.
Heidi wriggled in her seat. Although her afternoon had gone poorly, her evening was more than making up for it. In fact, as the center of Señor Nunez’s attention, Heidi was positively glowing and paying no heed to Lisa Springer, who, with sparkling eyes, kept looking at Roger DeAngelo.
Watching them, Sister Mary Helen suspected that these two girls could go on indefinitely. She, on the other hand, hoped to call it a night soon. The combination of rich food and mellow wine made her eyelids heavy. She glanced hopefully toward her host.
Checking his watch, Pepe pulled himself away from Heidi’s adoring gaze long enough to signal the maître. Within moments, the bevy of waiters appeared to remove the entrée and to replace it with small dishes of carmelized custard.
“Our dessert,
leche frita
,” Pepe announced. “Fried milk.”
Thanks be to God, Mary Helen thought, placing her hand over her wineglass. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain upright at the table.
“How are you doing, Sister?” Heidi, momentarily alone while their host again conferred with the headwaiter, turned toward her.
“Fine, dear. But more to the point, how are you feeling?” Mary Helen asked as if she didn’t know.
Heidi beamed. “Fine, now.” She giggled. “I guess I was just being silly this afternoon. I hope I wasn’t a pain.”
“Never,” Mary Helen said, and, with her final spoon, attacked the thick dessert, a first cousin to flan.
“You’ll never guess who Lisa was with . . .” Heidi began.Much to Mary Helen’s chagrin, Pepe tapped his goblet for attention.
“My dear pilgrims.” He rose,
Heidi listened intently to whatever Pepe whispered to her, giggling softly, now and again, before taking a sip of wine. Directly across the table Roger DeAngleo was pontificating.
It is just as well his wife’s back was to him, Mary Helen thought, watching Lisa Springer, her full mouth set in a littlepout, pretending to vacuum in every syllable. Wordlessly she stoked his male ego—and from the look of it, that wasn’t all she was stoking—into a roaring flame.
The professor, seemingly enamored by her flattering attention, hardly stopped for breath. Watching them, Mary Helen recalled a stanza from an old poem of Swift’s:
’Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That flattery’s the food of fools;
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit.
From where she sat, Roger DeAngleo seemed to be sucking in considerably more than a bit.
Sipping her wine, Sister Mary Helen settled back, resigned to observing her fellow pilgrims. Actually she rather enjoyed it. She was constantly amazed at how much one can learn about people by merely watching them.
For example, although the friction between María José and Pepe was overt, there was also something definitely amiss with the DeAngelos. And she suspected as much about the Fongs. They, however, were the hardest to read. On the other hand, the bickering Bowmans were having a wonderful time, and Lisa and Heidi seemed to have made up whatever differences they had had.
And differences do occur when you’re traveling with someone, married or no. It is not easy. Even Eileen and she had their moments. Glory be to God! she thought facetiously. We’ve been on this jaunt for only two days. We’ll be killing each other before the week is out!
Heidi giggled, and from across the table Lisa and Roger DeAngelo mouthed in
simpatía
, to put it “Spanishly.” Another fascinating phenomenon, Mary Helen mused, is how quickly relationships develop on tours. Perchance it was thebeing thrown together in a kind of time warp. The unfamiliar places, the strange customs, and the foreign language set a stage for instant intimacy.
Whatever the cause, one minute we’re perfect strangers; the next we’re regaling each other with the most personal details of our lives, much as Heidi had done this afternoon.
Heidi wriggled in her seat. Although her afternoon had gone poorly, her evening was more than making up for it. In fact, as the center of Señor Nunez’s attention, Heidi was positively glowing and paying no heed to Lisa Springer, who, with sparkling eyes, kept looking at Roger DeAngelo.
Watching them, Sister Mary Helen suspected that these two girls could go on indefinitely. She, on the other hand, hoped to call it a night soon. The combination of rich food and mellow wine made her eyelids heavy. She glanced hopefully toward her host.
Checking his watch, Pepe pulled himself away from Heidi’s adoring gaze long enough to signal the maître. Within moments, the bevy of waiters appeared to remove the entrée and to replace it with small dishes of carmelized custard.
“Our dessert,
leche frita
,” Pepe announced. “Fried milk.”
Thanks be to God, Mary Helen thought, placing her hand over her wineglass. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain upright at the table.
“How are you doing, Sister?” Heidi, momentarily alone while their host again conferred with the headwaiter, turned toward her.
“Fine, dear. But more to the point, how are you feeling?” Mary Helen asked as if she didn’t know.
Heidi beamed. “Fine, now.” She giggled. “I guess I was just being silly this afternoon. I hope I wasn’t a pain.”
“Never,” Mary Helen said, and, with her final spoon, attacked the thick dessert, a first cousin to flan.
“You’ll never guess who Lisa was with . . .” Heidi began.Much to Mary Helen’s chagrin, Pepe tapped his goblet for attention.
“My dear pilgrims.” He rose,
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