by Hebby Roman
The place was spotless, not a pot or pan in sight. There was a coffee maker with a full carafe and a mug beside it, no sugar or cream. Gar must have remembered she drank her coffee black.
For some strange reason, the thought made her tears start again.
What the heck was wrong with her? And where was her host?
She shook her head and decided to have one cup of coffee, retrieve her purse and windbreaker, and start back if Gar didn’t return. He’d done the right thing, not letting her drive last night.
She wanted to leave him a note, thanking him. If he didn’t show up, she would tear off a piece of her sketchpad or she could text him. She had his cell number. With that thought, she filled the coffee mug and turned toward the window over the sink, looking out.
There was quite a commotion at headquarters. It looked as if all the boys were stringing lights on the trees in the front yard and along the driveway fence. She thought she recognized Kiki helping out, the janitor, and one or two adults she didn’t know. But where was Gar?
She heard the front door open and close, answering her question. She thought to turn and welcome him, but after her drunken debacle last night and her tear-filled morning, she didn’t know if she could face him.
Instead, she stiffened her spine, put the mug down and leaned against the sink, seemingly absorbed in watching the hubbub outside.
She heard his footsteps approach, stop, and then she felt his hands rest lightly on her shoulders. The warmth of his body enfolded her. He leaned in closer and said, “Morning, sleepyhead. Need some aspirin?”
Not turning, she said, “I won’t say no to medication. I have a terrible headache. I was relieved to find a spare toothbrush in the guest bathroom, but I didn’t rummage through your medicine cabinet.”
“You’re welcome to rummage through anything you want, Sofia.” He squeezed her shoulders and his breath ruffled her hair. “You’re welcome to take a shower, if you want.”
“Does that mean I smell? How do you know I didn’t—?”
He stroked her hair, running his fingers through it. “Of course not. It’s your hair. I was married for a number of years, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” She shivered from his touch and gripped the sink tighter, trying to stop herself from trembling. He’d reminded her again of his loss, and along with his soft caress, remembering what he’d been through, sliced through her.
Still, she didn’t turn around. “Decorating for Christmas?”
“Yeah, we’re running kinda late this year. Usually, I like to start the day after Thanksgiving, but we’ve been too busy. The boys love the break from school, so any time is a good time.”
He squeezed her shoulders again. “I’ll get that aspirin.”
“Thanks.” She heard his boots stomp across the tiled floor. She managed to compose herself and turn from the window.
He returned in a minute and she asked, “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Thanks for leaving out a mug for me.”
“No, I’ve already had plenty this morning.”
“Okay. Well, it’s getting late, and I should get back to San Antonio. Thanks, again, for everything…”
“Including getting you drunk?”
She managed a brittle chuckle. “I think I did that on my own. I remember you telling me to slow down or stop, and I kept asking you for more wine.”
“Well, talking about personal stuff is tough.”
“Yeah.” She thrust her hands into her back pockets. “It is.”
“I already spoke to Aaron’s psychologist this morning before I got the troops fired up to decorate.”
“Ms. Myerson?”
“No, John Tidwell. After my initial evaluation, I ascertained Aaron would respond better to a man than a woman.”
She half-smiled. “You know how to call them.”
He shrugged. “I try.”
“Thank you. When can I speak with Mr. Tidwell, privately?”
“Let’s give him a couple of weeks. He’ll have more to tell you by then. Okay?”
“Sure. No problem. Now I better—”
“Speaking of Christmas—”
“Were we?”
The left side of his mouth hitched up. “Earlier, we were.” He handed her a bottle of aspirin. “Here, you might want to take a couple before you drive back.”
“Thanks.” She took the aspirin and shook out four into the palm of her hand.
He fetched a glass and filled it with water from the refrigerator door, handing it to her.
She swallowed the aspirin with the water and put both her mug and glass in the sink. “What about Christmas?”
“’Tis the season. I think you picked a good time to come, might soften up your son a little. The holidays.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What did you have in mind?”
“Tonight, I’ve got the older boys’ hayride. Tomorrow night, I’ve arranged for all the boys to see the San Antonio Riverwalk Christmas lights. It’s a tradition around here, and I’ve got the written parental consents, except for a couple of the older boys.”
He lowered his head. “Tough cases.” He stuck his thumbs in his belt loops.
“Anyway, Eric has faxed his consent, and we have plenty of chaperones, but I’d like for you to come, too. More ‘face time’ with your son. A bigger group, but—”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there. Liana mentioned about us going to see them, but I’d rather go with Aaron.” And you, she thought to herself, but didn’t say it.
“Good. No need for you to come all the way out here. Meet us in front of the Arneson River Theater at around seven-thirty. Okay?”
* * *
Sofia sat on the concrete wall beside the half-circle of the Arneson River Theater. It was an unusual place, a relatively small platform, which jutted out into the San Antonio River. Its backdrop was a series of antique-looking stone arches, appearing as if they had been plucked from one of the neighboring missions. Onlooker seats were on the other side of the river. Luckily, the theater wasn’t in use tonight.
Liana had offered to come with her, to lend moral support, but she’d declined the offer, knowing Liana was studying for finals. Even though this was going to be a bigger group, she knew Gar would take care of her. She’d arrived early, not wanting to miss them.
She folded her hands and huddled in her windbreaker. Tonight, was chillier than the other night, making it feel more like Christmas in New York. Glancing around at the decked-out Riverwalk, she decided it was a toss-up as to which place would win first prize for their Christmas decorations, Rockefeller Center or the Riverwalk.
Both cities went overboard for Christmas, but they were so different. Rockefeller Center, much like the megalithic buildings surrounding it, depended on huge displays to draw the eye, like their gigantic Christmas tree and much-larger-than-life displays of golden angels or Christmas ornaments.
San Antonio, like its low-lying downtown skyline, relied on a collage of smaller-scale decorations contributed by the merchants and restaurants along the slow-flowing river. Here, there was a surprising mixture of traditional Christmas ornaments, such as decorated trees, tinsel, garlands, and greenery, liberally mixed with Mexican decorations of colorful piñatas, saints’ statues, and Nativity scenes.
And the Riverwalk was like a feast for the senses. She’d passed La Turquesa, the premiere restaurant in the Escobedo’s Tex-Mex chain and noticed they had draped their outside terrace with red-green-and-gold garland, intermixed with large dangling Christmas ornaments and Santa-shaped piñatas.
Eclipsing all the varied decorations, was the real draw of the Riverwalk—the lights. Multi-colored lights were everywhere—draped in a fine net over the ancient and gnarled live oak trees, tracing the arches of the quaint stone bridges, outlining the river barges filled with tourists, and edging each and every structure along the Walk. There were so many lights, they almost turned night into day.
And the light
s were close at hand, as if she could reach out and touch them. It was such a different feeling than in New York. For as long as she’d lived in New York, it had never seemed to be… home. Somehow, some way, this city of mixed Latino and Anglo heritage had lodged itself in her heart.
She was enchanted, enthralled and, in a strange way, happy she’d come early. Glad she had the time to take in the rare combination of Christmas on overdrive, along with the homey atmosphere of the place.
Sitting on the concrete wall, she breathed in and out, inhaling the heady blend of the restaurants’ delicious offerings. Tonight, she’d eaten a light salad for dinner, but the smells filling this magical enclave, buried in the center of San Antonio, were enough to make her mouth water.
Then there was the music. Christmas carols, lilting tunes, some familiar and some new, sung in both Spanish and English, filled the air, bringing back old memories of Christmases past.
It had been several years since she’d enjoyed the holidays. Several stress-filled years, punctuated with battles over Aaron and where he would spend Christmas.
Tonight, she felt the magic of Christmas—felt it in a visceral way, deep inside. Joy and hope bubbled, and for the first time in a long time, she looked forward to the holidays.
Particularly, she missed the excitement surrounding Noche Buena or Christmas Eve, as it was called in the States. It was the most important time for celebrations in Argentina.
Unlike the States, where Christmas Day was the highlight of the season, she remembered hectic Christmas Eves, filled with church services, visits from neighbors and friends, huge feasts, and staying up all night to welcome in Christmas.
Thinking of home and Christmas, she yearned for her son—just to see his face.
Where were they?
It was getting late. Had she misunderstood where to meet Gar? She pulled the cell from her jeans pocket and glanced at the time: 7:45 p.m. But she knew she was in the right place because she’d asked at the neighboring hotel.
She heard Gar’s kids before she saw them. Teenaged boys’ voices, rising above the tumult of the crowd and the Christmas songs, some deep and booming, some shrill, and others on the edge of cracking, like her son’s voice.
Getting to her feet, she went on tiptoe, gazing down the winding Riverwalk, hoping to glimpse the group. She spotted the tall cowboy leading them… Gar. He towered above the jostling crowd and behind him, streamed a swarm of twenty boys, along with several chaperones, flanking them, like cowboys herding cattle.
She glimpsed Kiki and was happy to see the young woman had accompanied the group.
Gar must have spotted her because he picked up the pace and joined her, taking her elbow. “Sorry, we’re a little late. Had trouble finding a parking space for the bus.”
“No problem. I wanted to come early, to be certain I was in the right place.”
“Good idea.” He lifted his other hand and swept the air, encompassing the Riverwalk. “What do you think?”
“I don’t have words. It’s so… so beautiful, but at the same time, there are a lot of echoes from my childhood Christmases.”
He gazed at her and squeezed her elbow. “I’m glad you like it. I’d hoped you would. It’s pretty special. I never get tired of the Riverwalk at Christmas, and I always bring the boys at this time of year.”
He lowered his head and spoke quietly into her ear. “Why don’t you join Kiki? Aaron’s back there with her group. And you’ll want to meet Cole, her husband, he’s bringing up the rear.”
“Thank you,” she whispered back and half-shrugged, a shadow blotting out her earlier joy, wondering how Aaron would receive her tonight. “That’s a good idea.”
“Keep your hopes up,” he said, as if he saw the dark spot covering her heart. “Christmas is a special time, but it also revives old memories. I know you and Aaron must have made some good memories when he was younger.
“You’re a wise man, Gar.”
“Nah, just practice. Practicing on other people, I guess.” His voice deepened and sounded rough, ragged around the edges, and she knew he was thinking of his daughter.
She took his hand. “Thank you.”
He touched the brim of his Stetson with one finger. “Like I said, we aim to please.”
She nodded and moved along the edge of the Riverwalk, joining Kiki.
Kiki squealed when she saw Sofia, a high-pitched shriek. “Gar said you’d be here.” She enfolded Sofia in a big hug and held her at arm’s length. “I’m glad you came. Gives you a chance to meet my handsome husband.”
“I’d like that.”
Kiki glanced up and brought her finger to her lips. “Shhh. Gar is giving part of his talk. He points out all the landmarks for the kids. I don’t know if they care. They’re just here to get away from the ranch for a night.” She giggled. “Can’t say I blame them.”
She nodded and gazed at the boys, bunched in the middle, between the chaperones. Her gaze collided with Aaron’s, and this time, he didn’t look away. Instead, he spread his legs, put his hands on his hips, and glared back at her.
At least, he hadn’t looked away. She clung to that special Christmas feeling she’d soaked up earlier, while she waited for Gar to finish speaking.
After a few minutes, Gar moved them forward, pointing out the buildings lining the Riverwalk. There were lots of hotels, ranging from the smaller, boutique hotel of La Mansion, to the sprawling Marriott Riverwalk, the Hilton and Regency, and the original Riverwalk hotel, built with concrete blocks for the HemisFair. The HemisFair had been a World Fair, featuring North and South American countries back in the 1960’s.
There were too many shops to count or keep track of, constantly changing according to Gar, based on tourists’ tastes, but many of them offered local artisans’ work, such as she’d seen in El Mercado.
The boys weren’t allowed inside the stores, some of the spaces were too tiny to admit more than a few at a time, but they milled around outside, half-listening to Gar as he explained their unique merchandise.
Then there were the restaurants, almost too numerous to list, including the iconic Casa Rio, the Tex-Mex restaurant that had been the first place to introduce barges on the San Antonio River, where their customers could float along while dining.
Gar pointed out some of the finer places to eat, too, like Boudros, haute cuisine specializing in southwestern food, the Fig Leaf, one of the original European-styled places, and the Little Rhein Steakhouse.
There were plenty of casual places, as well, such as the County Line barbeque chain, the ubiquitous Hard Rock Café, and the boisterous Durty Nellie’s Pub.
They walked the cobbled walkways, crossed and re-crossed the antique-looking stone bridges, spanning the narrow waterway, stopped to take pictures with their cell phones of some of the more dramatic displays of lights, and jostled for viewing space with the surging crowds.
Half-way through the tour, Sofia was surprised when they stopped at La Turquesa and everyone grabbed a table in the patio area. She sat with Kiki and her husband and two of the older boys she hadn’t met, Phillip and Bentley, at a round table for five or six people.
The older boys were polite and subdued, chatting casually about everything they’d seen and hoping they’d get a glimpse of the Alamo, lit up at night, on the bus trip home.
All of their group was greeted warmly by the servers, and they were treated to complimentary tortilla chips and salsa, along with soft drinks of their choice.
She met Kiki’s red-headed husband, Cole, who turned out to be a “real” cowboy, born and bred on his family’s ranch, west of Fredricksburg. His home town, according to Kiki, was small and picturesque, and one of the original German settlements in Texas. It was also the center of the Hill Country wineries.
These days, Cole worked as a wrangler and guide at one of the dude ranches near Bandera. Kiki told her that when they were ready to start their family, they planned on returning to Cole’s home ranch.
/> Sofia knew Gar would lament the loss of Kiki, but tonight, she didn’t want to think about it. She was happy to chat with Kiki and her husband and make a firm date for their lunch, on Kiki’s day off, next week.
Aaron, she noticed, had seated himself with three of his buddies, Brian, Thomas, and Lucas. Gar headed up a long table of eight, with Dr. Myerson and a mix of six of the boys from different age groups.
When they were ready to leave, Gar came over and helped her to her feet. “Are you surprised we stopped here?”
“Yes, I am. I didn’t realize you’re acquainted with Liana or her husband. I know you read about Liana in a magazine, but—”
“I don’t know her or her husband, personally, but she was kind enough to call Shady Oaks and offer free refreshments for tonight.”
“Oh,” Sofia gasped, her heart warming. “And she didn’t even mention—”
“I think she wanted to surprise you.”
“How kind.”
“I agree. I already thanked her and intend on sending a note, too. But I wanted you to know.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He trained his unusual blue eyes on her. “My thanks to you and Liana.”
She flushed at his gratitude, her neck and face heating. She twisted the scarf knotted around her neck, realizing Gar stirred feelings in her she thought she’d never feel again.
When he walked away, Kiki laid her hand on her arm and said, “It’s okay.”
She glanced at Kiki and wondered exactly what her new friend meant, but she didn’t have the time to puzzle it out.
They formed up as a group again and Gar led them in a big circle, looping back to where they’d been. He pointed out the tall spindle of the HemisFair Tower in the distance, a pre-cursor to the famous Seattle Space Needle. His route brought them back to the Arneson River Theater, and they stopped in front of the circular Villita Assembly Hall.
Gar was speaking again, his voice carrying over the background noise. He was closing down the expedition with a few remarks about the Riverwalk and the Alamo, which most of the boys had already visited when it was open during the day.
She glanced around, tired but still “buzzed” with holiday adrenaline and sorry their tour was ending. She’d edged closer to Aaron—could almost reach out and touch him, but she didn’t dare. She wished they’d had more interaction, but catching the Christmas spirit had made the tour worthwhile. It had been a magical night, one she would long remember, one that filled her heart with hope…