CHAPTER NINE
KATY
Katy braced herself for more bizarre talk from Marcus. He certainly was acting strangely today. To her relief, he seemed back to his normal self, brooding and preoccupied with whatever billionaires thought about on vacation.
He had to make several phone calls before he could finally sit down to join her. The server was taking a while to get their order anyway, so he didn’t miss anything.
“Everything okay back home?” she asked.
“No,” he snarled.
She retreated behind her menu. “Sorry I asked.”
“Sorry.” He closed his eyes. “I’m trying to close on a deal, and the other people are being…” He paused. “Whew. Just a tough day. Billionaire first-world problems.”
“Ouch. That’s even worse than the rest of us regular folks.”
“Spoken like a true peasant.”
She gasped, shocked he would say such a thing.
He set down his phone and twirled it on the table. “Don’t want to be lumped with the common man?”
“Well, yes,” she said, “but ‘peasant’’ sounds so harsh.”
“The joke was that the daughter of a mall magnate couldn’t be one.”
She blinked at him.
“Get it?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Scratch my last joke.”
She sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know if I should laugh or throw something at you.”
His hand stilled over his phone. “If you have poor aim, then I’d rather you tried to throw something at me.”
“I didn’t sign on with a baseball team, if that’s what you mean.”
His glance lingered on her face. “You’re far too pretty to be on a baseball team.”
“Hey, girls can play baseball.”
“And if your team were smart, they’d have you play on the field to distract the other team’s players.”
She blushed. He was being odd. Flirtatious, was that the word?
At the same time that she was confused, a delicious flutter hovered in her stomach. Especially when she caught him glancing her way.
“Pacaya, of course,” Katy piped up, “is a warm-up for the big hike we’re taking to the Acatenango.”
“Is that where we throw a sacrifice into the volcano to appease it?”
“Hopefully not on purpose.”
He stroked his beard. “Just accidentally?”
“Hopefully neither.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I don’t know. My mom seems to think my returning home alive is a good thing.” She peered at him. “Are you an orphan, Marcus?”
“My parents are both still alive, but I seldom talk to them. Correction. Actually, I talk to my father at work. He still putters around. Why do you ask?”
“Because you act like no one would care if you came back alive or dead.”
“I’m sure my board of directors will buy an expensive wreath for my funeral.”
She sighed. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I am?”
The server finally arrived, but neither one was ready to order.
“We’re pretty inefficient,” he whispered when the server left.
She chuckled. “Between us being slow customers and my bad Spanish, we might starve to death.”
“We can always eat strawberries washed in tap water.” He grimaced. “Bad joke. Simply the thought of it makes me ill.”
“You could probably get used to the water here,” she said. “You’re such a newbie. That’s the problem.”
When the server arrived again, his pen poised and his face wearing a long-suffering expression, Katy ordered a chicken stew. Marcus spun his finger as though it were a plane nosediving and picked something. Katy peeked at it.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes.” He handed back the menu. “Positive. I order it all the time in New York. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I’ve ordered it zero times.”
“Whatever you say.”
When their orders arrived, Marcus nearly gagged. “What is that?” He poked at the tubular coil.
“Intestines,” Katy said, smiling innocently.
***
MARCUS
Underneath that innocent exterior was a mischievous girl. Marcus shook his head as he recalled how Katy laughed at him while he was eating the intestines. The thought made him gag, but it was actually pretty tasty if you liked rubber. It wasn’t his favorite, though.
As they started the hike to Pacaya with the group, Marcus regretted eating the chicken guts. His stomach roiled at the mere effort of putting one hiking boot in front of the other, but it was too late to back out. He would have to stay at the trailhead and entertain himself for the next few hours while Katy climbed with a mixture of locals and Coloradans who reminded everyone they were expert hikers in their Patagonia jackets.
Their hiking outfit brought a pack mule with them. It looked funny, like a horse with oversized Pinocchio ears. He had an important job to do: to carry their hot dogs for their barbeque.
“Would this volcano blow while we’re hiking, do you think?” Marcus asked their guide, Felipe.
“Blow?” Felipe echoed. “Ka-boom?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hands.
“Yes. Ka-boom.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Really?” Greg from Colorado said. “It might erupt?”
“That’s what this guy says.” Marcus pointed at Felipe.
Katy nudged him. “I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon. Last full eruption was in the 70s.”
Greg’s body seemed to sag with relief, though he still glanced with trepidation at the curl of smoke on the volcano.
“So it’s due for one,” Marcus persisted.
After a little while, Greg stopped altogether.
The guide glanced at him. “Something wrong?”
Greg wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Altitude sickness?”
“We’re so close to the top,” the guide said.
Greg groaned. “Oh, all right.”
A few minutes later, they turned a bend and came upon cracks in the ground. A mixture of red-hot lava, steam, and a sulphuric smell roiled in the gaps. One of the tour company’s employees stopped the mule and unpacked the hotdogs. He handed the sticks out to everyone.
Katy joined Marcus at a gap in the ground with a low-grade lava grill, and her hotdog fell. “Oh dear,” she said.
She stood to get another hotdog, when Marcus dropped his too.
“Goodbye, hotdogs,” he said solemnly.
Katy’s mouth twitched, and soon they were laughing and putting more hotdogs on their sticks.
The crater wasn’t exactly accessible. They hiked as close as they could before they turned around for selfies and photos against a backdrop of a smoking crater. That was when Marcus saw the sunset.
Marcus had traveled the world. He’d spent many sunsets looking out over the ocean, from similar vantage points on mountains, from the Sahara Desert, the Eiffel Tower…but never had he come this close to God.
Yes. God.
A stillness came over Marcus, as though one of the clouds reached over to envelop him. Yet no one was around him, no one but Katy Stevens and her sunny optimism.
“How beautiful,” she breathed. She was still looking at Pacaya. If the volcano were erupting, she would probably have a similar attitude.
“Like a dragon giving birth.”
She chuckled. “That’s an interesting thought.”
“Did you see the sunset?”
Her head swiveled, and she was lost in the throes of beauty once again.
As a group, they scrabbled off the mountain in the deepening darkness. Katy would have stumbled had Marcus not caught her hand.
“You’re freezing,” he said.
“Just a li-li-ttle,” she stammered.
He caught both of her hands in his and rubbed them. They warmed a bit, just as his skin began to throb as though on fire. She was standing so close, her breath fanning his neck. It was dark, and no one would be able to see or know any different if he were to place a kiss on her lips.
But he and she would.
And that would spell trouble.
The pull of the kiss overwhelmed him, but not enough that he couldn’t let go of her as though she’d scalded him. He made his way to be with the others.
They all hiked down to the tour van, piled in, and soon they reached Antigua’s city center.
Katy was quiet. Maybe she was tired. Maybe she was thinking of him, because, occasionally, she would look over at Marcus.
He certainly wasn’t thinking of her. Or the way her body was relaxed against the seat, one arm stretched behind her head. Or the way her long hair fanned over her shoulder.
When the driver dropped Marcus off, he had to get past Katy in a tangle of legs. He stood at the open door with everyone watching. It was certainly not the time to say a special goodbye to Katy. He simply thanked everyone, waved, and shut the van door.