Free The Sunflower: A Novel by Richard Paul Evans

out to the covered walkways, and the square was reborn as a night market, alive with the sound of commerce, music and crowds.
    Jessica and Jim had paired off, leaving Christine feeling a little awkward, and she soon wandered off on her own. There were lovers everywhere and where she had tried to push aside thoughts of Martin, they came back stronger now, like an itch delayed. Heaviness settled in her chest as she meandered between the labyrinth of tables and racks of clothing.
    Christine’s mother collected bells, and Christine found a small sterling bell with a llama figurine on top to add to her collection. She bought it for thirty soles. The woman wrapped it in newspaper and Christine stowed it in her pocket.
    At another store she rooted through a table of clothes and found a black alpaca vest and a matching man’s hat. She thought Martin would like so she bought them for him as much out of habit as hope.
    She spotted Jessica and Jim sitting on the small concrete ledge around the fountain, and when she had finished her shopping, she walked back to them. They didn’t see her approach.
    “Hey, guys.”
    They both looked over. “Where’d you go?” Jessica asked.
    “Just shopping.”
    Jessica looked down at the sack she carried. “What did you buy?”
    “Stuff. Clothes.”
    “Show me,” Jessica said.
    Christine suddenly felt foolish for buying something for Martin. “I’ll show you later. I’m going back to the hotel.”
    “So soon?” Jim asked. “The night’s young.”
    “Younger than I feel,” she said. “I’m a little tired.”
    “You know the way back?” Jim asked.
    “The desk clerk gave me a card,” Christine said.
    “Don’t wait up,” Jessica said.
    Christine walked to the street and hailed a cab. Back in the room she looked for the gecko, which was still in the same place, and she now wondered if it was even alive. She stowed the bag with Martin’s alpaca vest and hat under her bed. She didn’t want Jessica to see it, as she knew she would scold her for buying them. Still, she scolded herself. Why did she hang on? Martin hadn’t even sent her an e-mail since the day he broke off the wedding.
    She knew why. Desperation breeds hope. A counselor had once told her she had abandonment issues. No kidding, she thought. Her own father had left her, first through divorce, then, just a year ago, through death. Now, Martin had left her as well. Could she trust any man to stick around? She turned off the light, then got in bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
    In the darkness she thought of the gecko. She wondered if it was exclusively a wall-dweller or if it ever came on to the beds. Christine pushed the thought from her mind. She closed her eyes and rolled over in bed, hugging the pillow. Her mind briefly wandered through the day’s happenings. What would tomorrow bring? Then she thought of the man who had saved her wallet. Paul. She wondered what he was doing down here and if she’d see him tomorrow at the orphanage. And on the threshold of slumber she hoped that she would.

Chapter
Nine
    Today I overheard an American teenager comparing her deprivation to that of our children, because her parents would only buy her a used car. There are none so impoverished as those who do not acknowledge the abundance of their lives.
    PAUL COOK’S DIARY

    Jessica had already gone downstairs for breakfast when Christine came out of the shower. She toweled off, then pulled on her Levi’s. They were the loosest they’d been for nearly a decade.
    At least the engagement wasn’t a total waste, Christine thought. She finished dressing, grabbed her backpack, then went downstairs to join Jessica.
    The ground floor was an open, windowless space with pink plaster walls and travel posters of Cuzco tourist attractions. Jessica was sitting in the corner of the room under a poster of a herd of llamas. She was with two of the people from the group, an older woman with a broad face sporting thick, tortoiseshell glasses