A Love for Rebecca by Mayte Uceda Read Free Book Online Page B

natural coloring and found it quite endearing. And a little shocking. The crazy, self-assured Lola was smitten with a boy who blushed. They never would have dreamed it.
    They discovered a door to the back garden. Through the window curtains they could see a drying rack for the laundry and a small round table with four chairs. There were also several flowering shrubs. But it was too wet out for them to want to explore.
    They shared the snack with Rory, who joined them self-consciously. Mrs. Munro was right: they were hungry. And the sandwiches were delicious—except for the ones that, in addition to cheese, tuna, and ham, also had potato chips.
    “This is new,” Berta said, showing her friends the potato chips inside her sandwich.
    Rory shrugged at their inquisitive looks.
    “Crisp potato sandwich,” he said, after swallowing the bite in his mouth.
    They shrugged in return and continued eating.
    Before leaving, Rory helped them get the luggage inside. Then Lola walked him to the car.
    Thirty minutes later she returned to the questioning looks of her two friends.
    “What!” she exclaimed.
    Berta arched an eyebrow inquisitively. “That’s what we wanted to know.”
    Lola’s eyes lit up, and she ran to hug her friends, jumping up and down with giddiness. “I don’t know  . . . ” she said, pulling away a little. “I’m so  . . . ” She sighed heavily. “I’ve thought about him so much these few last weeks that  . . . ”
    “I think Lola has finally fallen in love,” declared Berta.
    “So wonderful, right?” Rebecca sighed. “Falling in love is always wonderful.”
    “I mean Rory. He’s so  . . . tender, so sweet  . . . Have you seen how he blushes? I just want to kiss him to death.”
    Berta again wiped her glasses, which for some reason kept fogging up. “Just to see you like this has made the trip worth it, even if it rains the entire three weeks—”
    Rebecca’s hand flew to her mouth. “Don’t even say that. Knock on wood.”

A PASSIONATE ENCOUNTER
    Lola was the first one up in the morning. Rory was coming at ten to take them to town. At eight thirty, Lola burst into the bedroom her friends were sharing.
    “Come on, sleepyheads. Rory will be here before you know it, and we have only one bathroom for the three of us. And you know how punctual the English are.”
    “Rory’s Scottish,” mumbled Rebecca. “Does the saying count for them too?”
    Berta opened one drowsy eye. “Maybe the Scots are late for the pure pleasure of being contrary to their neighbors.”
    Lola opened the curtains, letting light into the bedroom.
    “Did the sun come out?” Rebecca asked, stretching her neck and turning toward the window.
    “No,” Lola said, scrutinizing the sky. “But at least it’s not raining.”
    “I’ll take it.”
    They took turns showering and went to the kitchen for breakfast. They sat on three high stools pulled up to the marble counter and resolved to finish the leftover sandwiches.
    “I can’t stand the potato chips in the sandwiches,” Lola said as she spit some out.
    “What’s this?” asked Berta, pointing to something that looked like an electric pitcher.
    “It’s a water kettle,” Rebecca said. “For making tea.”
    Berta stood and opened cupboards, checking out the kitchenware. She held up a red, rectangular carton. “Fancy some tea?”
    Lola heaved a sigh. “Seeing as there’s no coffee.”
    The water came to a boil in the new gadget in no time. Berta found a white china teapot, added three teaspoons of tea leaves, and poured the water.
    They were pleasantly surprised by the intense, invigorating flavor, perfect for starting the day.
    Rory showed up at ten on the dot, which prompted them to once again consider English punctuality, this time including the Scots.
    On returning to the town, the girls saw that High Street was a long avenue that split the town in half. Two-story homes with shops on the ground floors bordered both sides of the street, giving