by Stephen Bly
“Oh, no, by all means give them. She will know that you sat here looking like a fool, just to bring her a smile. That means you think more about her than yourself. No woman takes that lightly.”
“Thanks. This is not the kind of thing that comes natural to me. I’d rather hide over in the corner and watch things.”
She stopped stitching and rocked back and forth. “Are they for your wife?”
“Eh, no.”
“Girlfriend?”
“That’s what I’m hoping. I’ve only known her a couple months and she’s been gone most of the time.”
The lady laid her hand on his arm. “Young man, I was only with Harold for three weeks before we married.”
“Is that all?”
“But I wrote to him for two years before that. He was in the war in Italy, then Germany. I signed up for a USO pen pal.”
“How long have you and your husband been married?”
“We had fifty-eight years together. He passed on three years ago.”
“Congratulations, ma’am, that’s wonderful. I’m sorry he’s gone. I’m sure you miss him.”
“We had some tough years, but you’re right… it was wonderful. I had no idea how lonely I would be without him. You know, I still have my driver’s license. I still live in the same house. I can take care of myself and I certainly don’t need my daughters to come over and treat me like a little child. But do you know what I miss most? I miss having someone to take care of. My Harold needed me. Now, I’m not sure anyone needs me. Taking care of someone gives you a delight about getting up each day.”
“I reckon it does.”
“Are you waiting for me, cowboy?” Annamarie Buchett loomed above him, dark hair perfectly groomed, bright hazel eyes, and wide, easy smile.
He jumped up and shoved the flowers at her. “I thought you were delayed.”
She took them and grinned. “I can’t believe you bought flowers for me. Nobody does that anymore. In fact, I’ve never been greeted in public with flowers in my life.” She threw her arms around him and kissed his neck.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the little lady wink, then go back to her crochet.
Annamarie slipped her hand in his as they hiked over to the baggage carousel. He kept walking, though he considered stopping, closing his eyes, and enjoying the warmth and peace of those fingers laced in his. “How’s your mamma doing in southern California?”
“She loves it. She already found a house to buy.”
“You figure on moving in with her or do you want a place of your own?”
“I definitely want a place of my own.” She led him over to the baggage carousel.
He clutched her hand tightly and stared down at his boots. “Probably a lot of nursing jobs out there.”
With her other hand, she rubbed his arm. “Laramie, there are a lot of nursing jobs everywhere. I think I’d like a fresh start. In fact, I happen to know there’s an opening for an emergency room nurse in Fort Collins, Colorado. I’ve been thinking about applying for it.”
He looked straight into her eyes. He felt his smile strain his cheeks. “Fort Collins? That’s on the other side of Denver, up by…”
“By Wyoming, I hope. Meeting you this summer reminded me of some of the things that I’ve been neglecting. Somewhere in the gloom and depression when my husband was killed, I just gave up on having those things. I’d like to see if I can’t revive a few of them.”
“What kinds of things would you like to revive?”
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. “That’s one thing.”
He towed her roller suitcase and hugged her waist as they strolled out to the parking lot. “When you flew to California, I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. When you said you were flying to meet us in New Mexico, I figured this might be our farewell. Some things have been coming clear to me lately. I know you have issues in the past to release… and so do I. In the past couple of weeks I’ve felt more freedom from all of that.”
“Laramie, I like the way you are tender… and yet tough… the way you’re educated and informed about things… yet easygoing. I like how you make me feel good to be me.”
“Annamarie… I just like saying your name, and this might sound kind of immature, but you are the dream I was always afraid to dream. A beautiful woman who could chase away the demons in my mind and the fears in my soul. What I’m trying to say is, I like me when I’m with you. I believe for the first time in my life, I’m able to give my whole heart away… but you might have to help teach me how to do that.”
“That could take some time.”
He slid her suitcase into the back of the truck. “What are you doing for the next fifty or sixty years?”
She kissed his cheek. “I’ll have to check my calendar. Are you in a hurry for an answer?”
Laramie leaned his back against the side of the black Dodge. “No. Just anxious to get to know you better and scared to death for you to get to know me. I have flaws you haven’t seen yet.”
Annamarie waited for the minivan next to them to back out, then turned to face him. “And you have never heard me scream in the middle of the night.”
“You scream?”
“Nightmares.”
“I could learn to wake up and take care of you.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “That’s what it’s all about, is it?”
“I think so.” Laramie stroked his fingers through her silky black hair. “It’s having someone to take care of.”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out. Do we possess what we need to take care of each other? I thought if I took a job in Fort Collins and you were close by, we’d find time to practice.”
“We’ve got lots of things to practice.” He lifted her chin with his fingers.
“What else?” she asked.
When he kissed her lips, Annamarie’s arms locked around his neck. This time, she didn’t let go. “Oh, no,” she sighed. “You don’t need to improve that, cowboy. You’re as good as they get.”
He opened the pickup door for her. “But we’ll have to keep at it quite a while, because you can definitely use some practice.”
She jabbed her elbow into his side, then slid across the pickup seat to the middle.
When Rosa met Hap in the lobby of the motel the next morning, her thick, black, wavy hair was combed down, framing her wide brown eyes.
He handed her a Styrofoam cup of coffee as they strolled out to the parking lot. “Is your roomie still asleep?” he asked.
“She woke up for a few minutes and we visited, but she conked out again. They were out later than we were. Is Laramie up?”
Hap opened the pickup door for her. “If I didn’t know him better, I’d say he was dead. He flopped down on his bed with his clothes still on about three in the mornin’ and hasn’t moved a muscle since. He don’t usually sleep that good.”
Rosa hopped in and fastened the seatbelt. “I like Annamarie.”
“Yeah, I do, too.” Hap pulled the truck out into scattered morning traffic. “Laramie’s a pretty easygoin’ guy. I mean, it’s all internal. He kind of kicks back and observes life. He’s always got a good answer and he’s always there when you need him, but he don’t spend a lot of time doin’ things for himself. I truly believe Annamarie is somethin’ he wants real bad. I’m hopin’ it works out for them.” He pulled up to a stop light. “Now, which way?”
“Follow the signs downtown to the Palace of the Governors. Her studio is two streets north of the plaza.”
“I jist never figured Laramie would find a gal that tall. They look good together, don’t they?”
“I was thinking the same thing. Some couples do look like they belong together. But what will that mean for you? You and Laramie have been partners so long.”
“I reckon we’ll stay close friends, no matter what. We’ve gone through too much together to loosen the ties.” Hap tapped the steering wheel.
“Are you nerv
ous about meeting Juanita Marta?”
“Yeah. As long as findin’ my Juanita was a vague, unreachable concept, I could enjoy it. But ever’ time it gets close to happenin’…”
“You aren’t sure what to do?”
“Rosa, I have lived and relived the scene of what it will be like when I finally meet her. I know everythin’ to say and do. I’ve practiced my lines for almost twenty years. But it dawns on me, she might have other lines and I only know one script.”
“Just relax and wing it.”
“I know… it just keeps eatin’ at me.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed the arch in Rosa’s thick, black eyebrows.
Rosa tugged at her dangling, silver feather earrings.
“Are those earrings new?”
“Yes, I just bought them in the hotel gift shop. I never wear anything this flashy.”
“They look really good on you.”
“One dark night on a highway in west Texas, this cowboy stud told me I should have more fun… that I ought to do some things for myself. Earrings aren’t a big deal, but they are a start.”
“Maybe all of us need to do somethin’ for ourselves. I think that’s what Laramie and Annamarie are doin’. They’re gettin’ serious and I know that produces changes.”
“Are you worried about the changes?”
“That cool air we felt last night signaled that fall is comin’. Seasons come and go… each new season has its challenges and its beauty. You can’t predict the exact dates and you can’t keep it from happenin’. I guess I’ll just take what comes and look for the good parts.”
“The serious Hap Bowman.” She smiled. “I’m seeing more and more of that side of you.”
Hap pushed his hat back, then rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Well, that’s about as serious and melancholy as I get. Sorry about that.”
“I like it. You know what I’ve been thinking about this morning?”
Hap turned right at the stoplight, then merged into the left-hand lane. “You’ve been thinkin’ about an Egg McMuffin with extra cheese and tater tots floatin’ in catsup like they was a bobber when you’re fishin’ on the lake?”
“Oh, yuuuuck! Of course not.”
“Were you thinkin’ of buyin’ a black Hummer and drivin’ that sucker all the way to Yellowknife, Northwest Territories?”
“Eh, no… I was…”
“I know, you was thinkin’ of strippin’ buck naked and jumpin’ in the motel pool.”
Rosa slugged him. “Hush up, you jerk, and let me talk.”
“Yes, ma’am. I can see you and me imagine different daydreams.”
“You challenged me last night. Remember when we were strolling through the park and the kids playing that flashlight game got us laughing so much, you asked me again what I did for fun. I think I’ve eliminated fun from my itinerary for years. Everything became so critical, so important, so urgent. Too many causes, so little time. Fun seemed a distraction.” She waved her hand. “Turn left up here.”
Hap waited for a green GMC Yukon to pass, then turned. “So you changed your mind about fun and went out and bought those earrings?”
“You have no idea how big a deal it is for me to do that.” She leaned back, her hands locked behind her thick black hair. “But, I know I need a break. I need to enjoy what I can. Did I tell you I play the piano?”
“No… really?” He slowed down and stopped while a bus took on passengers.
“Mamma stuck me with two years of piano lessons as a kid. I hated it at the time, but wish I’d kept at it now.”
A habit-dressed nun marched a group of uniformed children toward the plaza.
“I played with an ensemble during my first couple of years in college. But one cause or another possessed me, so I dropped it.”
“You goin’ to start back up again?”
“Yes, I am. Hap, do you ski?”
He pulled out at the same time as the bus. “I ain’t very good at it, but me and Laramie get out two or three times ever’ winter. We usually head down to Steamboat Springs. Laramie, on the other hand, is a great skier.”
“I’ve lived in the Rockies for years and never learned how to ski. I think this is the winter I learn.”
He turned right and studied the buildings. “Is this the street?”
“Yes, a few blocks east. I think it’s on my side.”
One-story residences nestled in the shade of old trees. Most of the homes were painted in various shades of tan stucco, made to look like adobe, and had recessed, flat roofs.
“So, you’re goin’ to learn to ski and take up piano again. Dadgum it, Rosa, you do have great daydreams. Mine are mighty meager next to those.”
“Except you were teasing me with those things.” She pointed to a one-story, pale copper stucco building with exposed, round exterior ceiling beams. “There it is.”
Hap parked behind a silver Lexus. “Yep, you’re right. I was teasin’ about my daydreams. Why, shoot, McDonald’s don’t even serve tater tots.”
Rosa hopped out of the truck before he got around to open her door. “I did like one of your daydreams.”
They surveyed the cactus and succulent landscaping in front of the studio. “Wow, that’s great, darlin’. But I figure we ought to wait until after dark to go skinny dippin’, don’t you?”
She slugged him again. “Not that one, you dork. I meant the one about going to Yellowknife.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slow.
“You nervous?” Rosa asked.
“Yep. Tell me again what she said.”
“She has a busy day planned, but she’ll give us ten minutes, if we’re here by 9:00 A.M. sharp.”
“I wonder what Ms. Juanita Marta Muñoz does for fun?” He tugged down the brim of his hat and shoved his sunglasses into the pocket of his long-sleeved black shirt.
The waitress at Emilia’s Fine Spanish Restaurant served the sweet iced tea, as the girls returned from the ladies room. Laramie and Hap stood so Annamarie and Rosa could slide into the buckskin-colored booth.
Annamarie squeezed lemon into her drink. “Okay, tell us everything that happened with Juanita, the artist.”
“She has a beautiful studio,” Hap reported. “It’s like a picture out of a New Mexico tourist magazine. Lots of Indian and early Spanish artifacts, red tile floor, potted cactus, ever’thin’.”
“Rosa, would you please tell this rambling cowboy I don’t give a squat what the room looks like? What happened?”
“Maybe Rosa should tell us,” Laramie countered.
“No,” Rosa said. “This is Hap’s story. I was only there to say, ‘Juanita Marta, this is Hap. Hap, this is Juanita Marta.’ After that, I perched on a stool shaped like a barrel cactus and listened.”
“Okay, you were introduced. What did you say, then?”
“You know, Annamarie,” Hap drawled, “for a purdy woman, you sure are pushy.”
“Thank you.”
“For which… purdy or pushy?”
“Both. Get on with it, cowboy.”
“Much of it’s a blur. I told her who I was. That I had met a girl named Juanita as a twelve-year-old. And how I was interested in finding that Juanita.”
“Did you tell her about ‘The Mark’ and everything?” Annamarie asked.
“Oh, yeah, I gave her the long version of the story and most of the significant events in my life. It must have taken a full ten minutes.”
“Nineteen minutes,” Rosa said. “I was taking a few notes… you know… to report to Aunt Paula.”
“Then she…”
“Wait a minute,” Laramie interrupted. “Before you go any further, what did she look like?”
Hap shrugged. “She was attractive… a light-complexioned Mexican lady.”
“I want a better description than that.” He turned to Rosa. “What did you put in your notes?”
Rosa set down her iced tea. “Juanita Marta is five foot six. Weighs 135 pounds. Wears size-ten slacks and had on a rose-re
d silk blouse that’s buttoned at the cuff, but unbuttoned at the collar. Her eyes are dark brown. Her hair, what we could see of it, is thick, black, shoulder-length, straight. She wore a wide, floppy black hat. She had on Italian sandals that probably cost close to five hundred dollars. She wore two rings on each hand. Diamonds and onyx, I believe. She wore thick makeup around her eyes, which probably is meant to cover up crow’s-feet. She has had plastic surgery on her nose to make it look thinner than other Rodríguez women. Her earrings were round black onyx stones surrounded by tiny diamonds. At least, I thought they were real diamonds from where I sat. It’s hard to say. I had some difficulty picking up the details from that far away.”
“Geez, Rosa, I didn’t see all that,” Hap said.
“Okay, that’s better.” Laramie gulped down a swig of sweet tea. “Now, what happened after your life’s testimonial?”
“She leaned forward, her hand on her chin, and stared for a couple minutes,” Hap reported.
“It was only forty-five seconds,” Rosa corrected.
“It seemed like twenty years. Then she sat up, turned her head to the side, pointed under her right ear, and said, ‘First of all, as you can see, cosmetic surgery can remove some horrid marks.’”
“That’s when I blurted out, ‘You removed The Mark?’” Rosa admitted.
“She answered with ‘I have no intention of going through life as an object of curiosity or derision,’” Hap explained.
“She said that?” Annamarie gasped.
“She said more.” Rosa turned to Hap. “Tell them the rest.”
Hap cleared his throat. “Well, let me see if I get this straight. She looked me in the eye and said, ‘That’s the most pathetic story I’ve ever heard. Get a life.’ Then she stood, told Rosa, ‘I have work to do. Say hello to Aunt Paula,’ and stalked to the back room, closing the door behind her.”
“Omigosh,” Annamarie exclaimed.
“Did I get it right?”
Rosa nodded. “That’s what she said, but you had to be there to catch the full condescending tone. I was embarrassed for the whole Rodríguez family.”
“I suppose that eliminates Juanita Marta,” Laramie said.
“Some choices are easier than others,” Hap admitted. “I was glad Rosa was with me to witness that because it was sort of like a bad dream.”