Check out the website: www.thephototravelerbook.com
Buy for $2.99 on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/The-Photo-Traveler-Series-ebook/dp/B00BI4KEQC/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1360886583&sr=8-35
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next afternoon when I arrive at Mario’s to finish our project, the door is opened by a tiny middle-aged woman wearing washed-out jeans, an oversized white t-shirt, and yellow rubber gloves. She throws me a half-smile, pushes her tousled hair off her face and shouts back into the house, “Mario! Es para ti!” She gestures me inside and adds in a more normal tone of voice, “Shoes off. I just clean the floor.”
For somebody so small, she sure is assertive. I tug off my sneakers and place them next to a glass-blown vase just inside the front door.
I smile at her and say, “Hi, I’m Gavin. A friend of Mario’s. Nice to meet you.”
She eyes me like a hunting dog sniffing out its prey, then give me a slightly bigger smile. “I am Delva. The housekeeper. I clean this house very well. Keep it that way and you and me will be okay.”
She slips the rubber gloves back on and motions for me to follow her into the kitchen. “Mario!” she yells again. “Tienes alguien aqui!”
Mario’s head pops out over the railing at the top of the staircase. “Hey, what’s up, Gav? Come on up. I just laid out all the photos again.”
I look over at Delva for the okay to go up. She makes a shooing motion with her hands and jerks her chin up at the stairs. I guess that means it’s okay for me to go up. I sprint up the staircase, making sure not to leave any print smudges because I’m sure she’s just cleaned them.
“Don’t mind her,” Mario explains as we head to his room. “She’s been around forever. Pretty much family.”
“Dude, she’s kind of scary. I can’t even lie,” I say, but I have to laugh at the fact that I’m afraid of a woman that’s 5-feet-tall.
We get to work and narrow down our selection of photos to ten. We agree on nine but have different opinions on the final one. We toss a coin and my choice wins.
“Mario!” Delva shouts again from downstairs. “Basura!”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
As he heads out the door, I realize that this may be my only chance to get into Alanna’s room. I tiptoe down the hall and edge the door open. A typical teen girl’s room, as far as I can tell. Beige rug, black wrought-iron furniture. Framed posters of Ricky Martin, J-Lo, Mariah Carey, and Lauryn Hill still hang from her walls.
From what I can see, she was quite the Coke fanatic. Her desk and bookshelves are crammed with original glass bottles dating back decades, a vintage alarm clock with the famous Polar Bear lounging on a beach chair sipping on a Coke, a large plastic Coke-bottle-shaped coin bank, and dozens of other novelties.
Her bookshelves are also lined with mystery novels and a bunch of how-to books on hairdressing and fashion design. The room’s in pristine condition. Not a speck of dust in sight, probably thanks to Delva. Alanna’s senior year photo hangs above her bed, and other photos of her sit on her desk, nightstand, and bookshelves.
YOU ARE READING
THE PHOTO TRAVELER (THE PHOTO TRAVELER SERIES - BOOK 1)
Teen FictionSeventeen-year-old Gavin Hillstone is resigned to being miserable for the rest of his life. Left alone in the world after his parents died in a fire when he was four, he was placed in foster care, which for him meant ending up in an abusive home wi...
