When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,7

reflecting golden hues and the puffy white clouds decorating the blue canvas like swirls of whipped cream. Then I focused on my sister and Tyler. My camera clicked almost continuously.

“That’s enough, Kaitlyn. Stop taking pictures.” Abby waved a hand, annoyed.

“Okay. I’m done. I’m thinking I can blow them up and you can sell them.” I carefully covered the lens and walked beside Tyler.

Abby halted, her forehead creasing as if she were in thought. “That’s a good idea. See what you can do.”

I appreciated my sister trying not to talk me into painting again. She knew I would do it when I was ready, but her quick acceptance of my idea took me by surprise.

“Can I have shaved snow, Mom?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. I think your aunt would like one too.”

“Shaved snow, you say? I’ve always wanted to try it. Do they actually taste like snow?”

Tyler let out a cute sound. “No, Auntie Kate. You’re silly.”

He laughed, swinging his arm along with the rhythm of our steps. While we stood in line, I glanced at the list of flavors attached to the door. Strawberry, mango, and the list went on. After I picked out the flavor, I released the cover on the lens and prepped my camera.

The vibrant colors caught my eye. I raised my camera and took pictures again. In the middle of the outdoor shopping plaza, local vendors set up their displays of fruits, flowers, handmade jewelry, candies, and many more items on individual tables.

I took pictures of the fruits: mangos, papayas, pineapples, and lychees. The massive lens I’d gotten from my parents last Christmas came in handy when wanting to take pictures from a distance. I also took some of the surrounding shops and the Christmas decorations.

When I focused at the greatest distance, the background blur resolved into a restaurant we had passed on the way. Then I zoomed out a few yards and focused on a man wearing a white, long-sleeved button-down shirt, sitting on a bench with one arm resting on the top. Only his profile was visible.

Curious about the woman next to him, I continued to invade their privacy. It was through the lens, after all. No harm in that, right? I couldn’t see her face, only the long, blonde hair hanging down her back and the ankle-skimming violet dress she wore, billowing with the soft breeze.

They seemed to be in a heated conversation. The woman turned in her seat, and I got a glimpse of her beautiful face. She pointed to a store and said something. Then the man shifted to look in the same direction, giving me a clear view.

I blinked.

Leonardo.

I lowered my camera, flushing volcano hot. Then slowly I raised my camera again. His face made my heart skip as it had in the cab.

What was I doing spying on him? And worse, I felt a tiny tinge of jealousy when he caressed the woman’s face.

“What are you doing?” Abby placed a gentle hand on my arm.

Click.

Crap. I’d accidentally taken a picture.

I jerked guiltily and dropped my camera to my chest. Had it not been for the strap around my neck, the camera might have fallen and shattered.

As if Leonardo had sensed me watching, he had chosen that moment to look straight at the camera. Or at least it seemed he had.

“Um. Nothing. Just checking my view.” Heat suffused my face again.

“Mom, we’re next.” Tyler pulled on Abby’s arm.

“What can I get you ladies?” a young guy asked, smiling.

Abby leaned closer and took out her wallet. “Two shaved snows, please. One strawberry for my sister ...” She looked at me to confirm. When I nodded, she continued. “Another one with mango.” After Abby paid, she grabbed some napkins. “My treat,” she said.

I didn’t argue. I would return the favor next time.

“Yummy.” Tyler took a small bite and exited the double doors.

“This way to the Farmer’s Market.” I tipped my head to the side and stole a quick glimpse at Leonardo, who still sat on the bench with the woman. I had to look away, so I distracted myself. “Let’s buy some fruit.”

“I like the mangoes.” He poked one. “Can we get mangoes, too, Auntie Kate?”

“Ty, keep your hands to yourself, please.” Abby gently pulled back his arm and looked at me. “You were always the fruit lover. I’ll hold your shaved snow for you.”

“Thanks.” I picked out a few papayas and mangoes and handed them to the lady running the shop.

The seller placed my purchases in a brown paper bag. “That’ll be fifteen.”

“You