Children of a miracle (GxG)

Chapter 17 - Medieval torture methods

Laurence

Taylor and I were wandering in the small streets of San Juan and checking every single store we encountered. So far we'd seen a music store, a local food store, a bunch of restaurants and a clothing store. When we got out of this one, Taylor said that she respected each country's trends but that she would never move to Puerto Rico.

When we spotted a souvenir store, Taylor literally started bouncing and squealing. Something told me that she was going to ransack the place and make Puerto Rico's economy run by herself.

"Ashley come on, you're too slow!", she exclaimed while tugging on my hand to make me walk faster.

"Babe, the store isn't going anywhere, you know", I rolled my eyes.

We arrived in front of the store and Taylor let go of my hand to run inside the store without even waiting for me. I smiled and shook my head. She was so cute. I entered the store and obviously, I couldn't see Taylor. I sighed but decided to take a look around by myself. She would show up eventually.

I pushed my sunglasses on the top of my head and started with the postcards. I picked one that showed the beach, one where we could see the hotel, and even our terrace, and one that showed a panoramic shot of the city. There was a lot of knick-knack like tee-shirts, pens or mugs, but I wasn't interested in any of that.

I kept wandering and found a shelf full of photo albums that were organized by year. Out of curiosity, I picked up the most ancient one - 1955. All the photographs were about people. I didn't know if they were tourists or inhabitants, but it was funny to witness the evolution of trends and types of people who appeared in the pictures. Not a single one of them conveyed sadness or anger. All the models were exhilarated. It was beautiful. I reached the top shelf with most recent ones and grabbed 1995. Everything looked already more modern and resembled how it was today. I turned the page, my body froze.

I brought the album closer to my face and stared at the picture agape. It was my mom. She'd never told me she'd visited Puerto Rico. And what were the odds that I found myself at the exact same place as her after all this time? She looked radiant. God, this smile. I missed her so much. I felt tears streaming down my face but I didn't do anything to wipe them away. It felt so good to see my mom.

I used to have a similar picture of her back in Portland. I had taken it myself when she took me to Portland Japanese Garden for the first time. She was fully healthy during that period, so she let her reckless spirit express itself and tried to climb a tree. She obviously failed and ended up on the ground, laughing her ass off. I found her so brightful and radiant on the moment that I took out her camera and snapped a shot. Unfortunately, it disappeared in the flames, just like the few belongings of hers that had remained in her wardrobe.

"Oh, Ash, you're here!", Taylor's voice startled me. When I turned around, I saw worry invading her face as she approached me. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?", she asked. She reached my side and wiped my cheeks before kissing my forehead tenderly.

"Look", I said sniffing. I handed her the album and put my finger on my mom's picture.

"So?", she asked reluctantly.

"Tay, that's my mom", I said softly.

Her eyes widened and a smile appeared on her beautiful face. She grazed the picture and scrutinized it in awe. Suddenly, she looked up and grabbed my hand. She guided me to the front desk where a middle-aged woman was twiddling her thumbs.

"I want to buy one of these pictures", Taylor said, setting the album down for her to see. My eyes widened at Taylor's initiative and completely lack of tact.