These brief exchanges were most precious. When he disappeared without notice, I was disappointed, then annoyed, then angry. It was irresponsible of him! For days I imagined our next meeting
and what I would say or do to show my great displeasure. I would swing on the hammock in the garden as he walked up the path. I would toss my head to the side so my hair fell to the ground. He
would call out my name, “Angelica!” I would ignore him. He would be holding flowers, which he would hand to me with an apology. His eyes would speak the true repentance he felt in his
heart. I’d walk to him, then fling the flowers aside and say, ‘How dare you leave my portrait unfinished!’ He’d take my hand and kiss it, beg forgiveness . . . but these are
silly fantasies, Tia Elena. He never showed up! As time
