The top was down, and I was enjoying the crispfall air as the narrow road climbed and twisted toward the summit of thepass. In the valley below me was a chain of beaver ponds that sparkledlike an emerald necklace. The leaves of the aspen trees were changing tothe yellow that surpasses any yellow found in a tube of paint. In autumn,Colorado in the mountains is more beautiful than any place I have everseen. On the cream leather seat beside me was a letter from Cynthia. In herclear and feminine manner she had requested that I meet her in Aspen, andhad given the reasons for the meeting. She would be coming to Aspen withher fianc?e' for a series of business meetings pertaining to her cosmeticsbusinesses, and for a brief week end vacation with her lover. She askedthat I attend her in Aspen and perform whatever service she and her guestwould require. The letter had the desert rose imprint of her lips beside her signature.Although I had never met Cynthia in person, that nothing would keep. I would tell them "that girl" was part of me, my main reason for living.By the next morning it did not seem so important to set them straight. My parents had the right to be concerned for my welfare. It was their duty; keeping them in the dark was mine.I felt awkward telling three older guys about the change in plans. Jimmy and Charles were agreeable to wearing something other than their work clothes for one day. They seemed pleased that their professional skills were going to be used to assess the condition of property a rich guy had asked us to report on. Davie was happy to be entrusted with the job of prepping the next paint job with the help of Eric and the two college students. It was only Eric who raised his eyebrows when I told him he would be helping Davie.At lunchtime I was busy speaking to Ken and Paul, the two painters' helpers when Huley walked by. She did not turn and pretended not to notice me. Faltering in my speech for a few seconds, I recovered and finished giving.
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