Chapter Twenty-Three
It began raining Sunday afternoon and continued for the next two days. My sisters and I watched movies on Sunday, but went our separate ways on the days that followed. Liz went to the studio she rented, Diane immersed herself in her photo program, and I spent time weaving with Genna. It felt good to simply create, watching the pattern emerge as I passed the shuttle back and forth. No decisions needed to be made about life. All I needed to do was live it.
On Wednesday, the clouds dissipated. We decided to take in some of the missions we’d been wanting to see. There was a whole array of them south of San Antonio. The Alamo may have been the most famous, but the Catholic missionaries had been busy in Texas in the early 1700s.
We set out early and headed for Mission Concepción. The grounds and the large white church gave us ample time to stretch our legs and explore. Diane snapped lots of pictures, while Liz took some with her phone, trying to get ideas that she could turn into paintings.
Not having anything to be busy with, I contemplated the purpose of the missions. To have so much faith that leaving the safety and comfort of one’s homeland to come to a dangerous place to spread God’s word was something I would never be able to comprehend. While I believed in my religion, I didn’t feel any need to leave home and impose it on someone else.
Because that’s what really happened most of the time. It wasn’t only about spreading belief. The monks were often accompanied by soldiers. If the natives wouldn’t accept the Christian God willingly, there were other ways to convince them to convert.
But still, between them, they left behind some beautiful architecture and places that still reverberated with spirituality, at least to me.
Even though we were together, we didn’t spend much time talking, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I spent some time in the church itself, thinking about my life.
I’d always known my purpose was to take over the ranch. Once I was married, being a good wife and mother were important to me and gave me satisfaction. Was it a purpose? Probably as good as any. I’d never felt any need to make my mark on the world like Liz had done. I suspected now that she’d found photography and Joe, Diane’s life might grow in the same direction.
Would I ever feel the need to display my weaving as art?
Probably not. I had the more practical bent of my father. If I ever felt I was good enough at it, I’d make gifts for people, or make clothing that could be donated to charity. Yes, that felt right to me.
“You ready for the next one?” Liz asked.
“Yep.” We fetched Diane, then headed to Mission San José.
Once again, I was amazed at the architecture they’d been able to create with simple building materials. There was a rose window, full of curves displaying elements of the Baroque and Rococo styles that had been prevalent in Europe at the same time.
One of the Fathers must have been a recent immigrant.
“Imagine,” Diane said. “People must have spent their entire lives working on this. They may not have ever seen it completed.”
I nodded, once again marveling at the strength of some people’s beliefs to impel them to envision a dream and start it down the road to completion, not even knowing that if it ever would be done before they died.
“It’s been a great trip,” I said to her. “I’m so glad you suggested it.”
“Suggested?” she asked with her eyebrow arched. “I seem to remember I had to do a lot of arm twisting to get you two to agree.”
“You know how I feel about change,” I said.
“Avoid it at all costs,” she answered.
I nodded.
“Is that the problem with Rodrigo?” she asked, voicing the question I’d almost been able to articulate to myself.
“I don’t know,” I said. “When I went riding with him, I hadn’t anticipated anything serious developing. He just seemed like a nice guy. It had been so long since I’d been riding just for pleasure. And Star’s a dream.” I grinned. “He says I’m more in love with the horse than …”
“Than him?” she suggested.
“He didn’t actually say that,” I answered.
“But it was implied.”
“Sorta.”
“But you wouldn’t be all tied in knots if you didn’t feel anything for him,” she said.
“I suppose so. But it’s impossible. ”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? He lives here. I live there.” I pointed to the north. “Besides, that’s rushing things. I don’t even know what he wants. Or what I want. I swore I’d never be with another man after Michael. The risk is too great.”
“If Michael wasn’t already dead,” she said, “I’d kill him because he obviously hurt you very badly. Are you ready to talk about it yet?”
I shook my head.
“Well, try not to let it stop you from opening up to what Rodrigo has to offer.”
“Trixie Lynn said he cheated on his wife,” I blurted out.
“Trixie Lynn would say anything to get you out of the picture. She’s had her eye on him for ages. You’re spoiling her plan.”
I shook my head. “He wasn’t in love with his wife. He’s told me as much. The marriage was forced on him by his father.”
“I didn’t think people still did that in this day and age.”
“From what I gathered, it didn’t need to be that particular woman, just a traditional Latina woman.”
“Not an Anglo.”
“Exactly. He chose her because he loved her.”
“Wait … I thought you said he didn’t love her.”
“He wasn’t in love with her,” I said. “But he cared deeply for her and loved her more over time.”
“Splitting hairs if you ask me,” Diane said.
“Are we talking about anything good?” Liz said as she came up to us.
“No,” I said at the same time Diane said, “Rodrigo.”
“Oh good. It’s about time we discussed him,” Liz said. “But let’s do it over lunch. I’m starving.”
~ ~ ~
We found a cafeteria style restaurant nearby. I felt like I was in high school again, only with a much better selection. Without shame, I carb-loaded. Since we’d gotten to the south, I’d been delighted to find macaroni and cheese as a regular side dish. Much better than coleslaw, and with potato salad it was always a risk that some fool added eggs to it.
If I’d wanted egg salad—which was gross—I’d ask for it.
When we were seated at the table, Liz wasted no time bringing up Rodrigo .
I stoically ate my food.
Diane wasted no time in blabbing what I’d told her.
Once those two had stopped clutching their own secrets like an old woman hanging onto her pearls, they’d decided everyone—which meant me—should get on board.
I was having none of it.
“Have you asked him how he feels?” Liz asked.
“No.”
“How about what he wants?” Diane asked.
“Nope.”
He’d already told me he wanted me to stay. I was the problem. Before I’d met him my cereal-for-dinner dreams were intact. Now he—and Antonia—had blown them to smithereens. I didn’t have any idea what to do for a replacement.
“Look,” I said, putting down my fork. “Let’s say he wants me to stay down here, or come back when the trip is over. Where am I supposed to stay? What am I supposed to do for money? I’ve got a job back at the ranch.”
“A job that Patrick is doing quite well,” Diane said. “I’ve looked at the numbers since we’ve been on the road. They’re better than they have been for several years.”
“Michael was sick!” How dare she accuse me of sloughing off my duties?
She raised her hand. “That’s not what I meant at all, and you know it. Liz and I are in awe that you kept it going and handled everything else as well. I’m only saying that you can relax about it. We’re happy to pass the ranch along to your kids. We’ll figure out the particulars when we get home.
“But that also means you can be free to live your life however you want to live it. You’re no longer tied to the ranch.”
I got what she was saying, and the idea terrified me.
Who was I if I wasn’t in Montana?
“We’ll support you with whatever you want,” Liz said. “But if there’s a possibility for you to get a second chance for happiness, we’re all for that.”
“You know,” I said. “You two have become insufferable since you fell back in love.”
“Of course,” Liz said. “That’s why we want you to try it.”
“He wants me to stay,” I confessed. “He told me that the other night.”
“That’s wonderful!” Liz clapped her hands together .
“Is it what you want?” Diane asked.
“I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know him well enough to make that decision. It’s huge. And I can’t change up my life as easily as the two of you seem to be able to do.”
“He’s not Michael,” Liz said.
“No, he’s probably got different issues.”
My sisters were quiet. There really wasn’t much to say in reply. We all had issues, problems that changed over time as our lives evolved. Some of us dealt with them better than others.
Diane changed the topic back to the missions we’d seen, for which I was grateful.
After lunch we continued onward to the final two missions, including a stop at the Espada Aqueduct, a small bridge constructed of stone designed to let water flow over the river below it. The water in the aqueduct was used to irrigate fields.
So much of people’s lives back then, not unlike my own, had been focused on the production of food.
When we got back to the RV late that afternoon, we were all quite ready for cocktail hour. My brain was stuffed with all I’d learned and felt. Although we hadn’t talked about it again, I’d ruminated on my relationship with Rodrigo as we’d wandered around the missions.
Was there a middle ground? There was nothing to say I couldn’t take the RV back down to Texas when we were done with our trip. That would give me a place to stay to see if there really was anything to build on with the man.
Trixie Lynn wouldn’t be happy, but that was her problem.
Thinking of her brought up the thing that she’d told me. My sisters had felt it was a lie, but I wasn’t sure. If I asked him, he could refute it, just like Michael had every time I’d brought up his gambling.
That was my big secret. Michael had gambled. At first it was little things—football pools or a friendly poker game. But he began to make some money at it and placed more and more bets on a variety of things. He’d tell me he was going fishing with his friends and go to an Indian casino instead.
Things started going missing from the house, like the Bowie knife.
Then someone told me they’d seen him at one of the casinos. He’d been placing heavy bets.
Finally, that time when I confronted him, he’d told me it was none of my business. He’d hit a bad streak, but he’d recoup everything soon.
But he hadn’t. He’d gotten ill instead. He’d had to pay off some nasty people, and our savings dwindled to nothing.
What if I let myself fall for Rodrigo, and he turned out the same way?
I’d be devastated.
But if I didn’t take the chance, I might miss the opportunity to enjoy something better than I ever had in all my life.