THE PHOTO TRAVELER (THE PHOTO TRAVELER SERIES - BOOK 1)

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

When I get back to my room and check my cell, I can’t believe it’s almost midnight. I pull off my shirt and jeans and collapse on the bed. I can’t stop myself from flashing back to the scene in the restaurant and to Bud talking this morning about dying. Why hadn’t I foreseen what was going to happen? Maybe I should’ve done more to follow up on his health when he came down with that cold. I mean, it never crossed my mind to pay any attention to it. One thing’s for sure, that’s going to change with Estelle.

      I close my eyes and lie back on the bed, but my mind keeps spinning. How could what started out as such an amazing night turn into such a tragedy? It’s so ironic. Why does life have to be so unpredictable? Bud was the first real person in my life, besides Estelle, whom I felt I could trust and actually talk to. Even though I loved Leyla so much, it was different with her because I was so young when she died.

      Bud’s image—his warm, loving lemon eyes and his smile—fill my mind. Now that Estelle’s asleep, I can stop fighting to hold everything in. I can let go.

      Eventually I sit up and dry my eyes. I need to talk to someone. I can’t stand the thought of being alone. I reach for my phone and call the one person I feel I can talk to. Even though I was weary at first, I feel an odd sense of trust with her. And if anyone knows about loss, it’d be her. She did lose her entire family in the fire.

      She picks up after just two rings. “Oh my God! Like it’s only been two days!” Yogi drawls in a stereotypical Valley Girl voice, followed by a cackle. “I’m a heartbreaker, just warning you!”

      My voice is hoarse. “Hey… can you talk?”

      She’s silent for a moment, so I blurt it out. “My grandfather died today. On my birthday. We were out having dinner for my birthday and he just... collapsed... I’m sorry to be laying this on you. I just needed someone to talk to.”

      “Gavin… I am so sorry! I was just messing around with you just now when I picked up.”

      “I know... I didn’t want to bother you, but I don’t know who else... I mean, you’re the only other person I know who’s like me... like us…”

      “Do me a favor? Go log onto the Internet,” she instructs me.

      “Why?”

      “Trust me, just do it.”

      “Okay...”

      I wake up my laptop and open my browser. “I’m there.”

      I can hear her typing fiercely on her end. “Okay. Go to www.dreamescapes.com. Tell me when you’re there.”

      “I’m there. But what is it?”

      “You see the photo of the waterfall at the bottom? On the left side?”

      “Yeah... So?”

      “So-o-o... Meet me there in 5 minutes. Deal? You sound like you need a friend. And I know just the gal.”

      I smile—I think for the first time since I heard the waitress calling for help after Bud collapsed. “Okay. Thanks, Yogi. A lot.”

      I end the call and study the image of the breathtaking cascade of water surrounded by colorful vines and flowering trees. The caption under the thumbnail reads “Costa Rican Bliss—a True Getaway.”