She adjusted the lenses of the binoculars and watched Kevin as he swan the length of the pool in a smooth front crawl. She watched him do laps for several minutes, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. He emerged from the water, slender and gleaming in the sunlight, and lay back on a lounge chair. She could hardly catch her breath.
Each day, at the same time, Tanya continued her snooping, confident the foliage on the terrace provided a perfect cover for her maneuvers. And each day, she continued to wonder at herself and her actions. But she refused to stop, enthralled by the ripple of his muscles as he slid through the water, or the glisten of sunlight on his hair.
"Oh, my heaven, what a mess," Edda said. She and Tanya stared at the trampled paints and paint thinner, spread across the terrace.
"It's my fault," Tanya said with a moan. "I didn't put them away last night." She began to gather her work as Edda called for Charles.
"It looks like a pack of dogs were up here," Charles said. "Or some kind of animal. They had a bit of fun with your work."
Tanya shook off dirt and dry paint from the easel and the portable drawing board and assessed the damage. She carefully unfolded her roll of sketches, then sighed with relief. "No damage," she said. "I'll have to be more careful from now on."
After cleaning her tools, she set up once more. Edda and Charles left her to her work. She prepared a rich impasto with the palette knife, mixing the colors directly on the canvas, and let herself become totally absorbed in the unfolding painting.
Minutes or hours had passed when something caused her to look up from her easel. She looked into a pair of sparkling grey eyes.
"Oh!" She dropped her palette.
"I'm sorry," he said, catching her palette on the fly. "I didn't mean to startle you. It's really rude of me." He smiled, showing perfect teeth. "I'm your next-door neighbor, Kevin Edward Matwin." His grin charmed her. "Kevin."
"You did startle me," she said, "But I really don't mind. My name's Tanya. Tanya-uh-Howard." She extended her hand and shared his smile.
"I really wouldn't have come in this way, up your stairs, if I had any idea it would startle you so much. I thought you could hear me. I clumped. I really did clump."
"No, I lose myself in work when I'm painting. Nothing pulls me out of it, short of the end of the world." She started to laugh at herself, then remembered an explosion that pulled her from her work, a lifetime past. Her smile faded.