My House Or Yours?

And the Alamo.

A visitor’s skin still shivers with the intensity of the emotion still locked in that ground.

The travelers went to Fredricksburg and over to Bandera because someone said they should see the towns. And those different places were worth the trip. The two sightseers used up Chad’s entire leave. And it was special.

Unfortunately for Jo, their sojourn was exactly the way she’d expected to share time with Chad. How could he be so perfect? How could he not have shared such time with her during the six years they’d been married?

She felt more cheated than before when she’d only hoped for such a companionship. He was so knowledgeable. That was no surprise. She knew he was curious and erudite. But he was so companionable. How dare he be as magical as she’d always wanted? It made her mourn the lost years.

And it made her wary.

He said, “Quit your job and come home.”

He said that.

Not only could she just quit her job, which she loved and which kept her very well indeed, but he called his house and him…home.

Probably the worst of it all was that she was tempted.

He phoned in to Butler University in Indianapolis, Indiana, and said he was delayed. He was working on a problem. He would explain when he returned. He said his absence would be stimulating to the grad student who assisted him.

And the reply from Butler University was, “Is there any way we can help?”

Chad replied, “Thank you, no. This is a personal problem. I will solve it. But it might take several more days.”

“Call us if we can help.”

“Thank you.” And Chad hung up with a pleased smile.

They drove the rental car on down to Padre Island. There they could wade not only in the Gulf, but in the influx of Winter TEXANS. Before all the druggies, the farmers from the north wintering in TEXAS were called Snow Birds. The snow birds fly south, and so do the idle farmers. Well, actually they don’t all fly, they mostly just drive motor homes down. Now the Yankee farmers are called Winter TEXANS and they are included as citizens. Contributing citizens. They help the economy.

Without comment, the two idlers viewed the havoc wrought by intruding entrepreneurs on Padre Island. It was filled with high rise condos and hotels on either side of the sand island. And there were paved double highways down the middle of the sandbar. In all of that south TEXAS land, the buildings were a surprise. The rest of the area wasn’t so intruded upon.

The visiting pair drove over into Mexico and went through the shops. They bought wooden toys beautifully colored-tops, flutes and cups to catch an attached ball and yo-yos. They bought rawhide vests that were lined with sheep wool.

Chad bought Jo a designer watch, and a toad purse with a zipper on its stomach.

She was unsure about the zippered toad.

He explained in his class lecturing voice, “It’s a prince frog. When you kiss it, it will become a prince. For this metamorphosis, you have to take it to bed with you.”

She gave him a careful look.

Chad frowned with false impatience. “Don’t you remember the fairy tale?”

She said sober faced, “Yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll explain when we get home.”

He did keep mentioning they would be going “home” to Indiana.

But she knew better. They would part long before that could ever happen.

In Mexico, she bought a dress that was swirly and colorful, and she bought him a white, loose, cotton, beautifully embroidered pullover shirt. With it were slim black trousers.

They bought huaraches, the leather strip woven, flat shoes that are so squeaky and interesting. And comfortable.

She found a blue felt jacket that was embroidered with yarn. It was just right. There were two pockets for her hands. The edges of the sleeves and the jacket were cross-stitched with the yarn of the decorations. It was different.

They returned the short distance to the Rio Grande, crossed back over the river into their own country and drove back to their hotel on Padre Island.

They dressed for supper. They were so companionable and intimate that Jo thought of their marriage. Had they ever had this easy closeness? This comfortable silence?

In all that time, she’d wanted the companionship that was then between them. When had they ever had the time to be silent friends? They’d had just beensilent. Either that or talking about some student who worried Chad. Then the conversation had been his verbal thinking on how to help or alter directions for the troubled one.

At that time, why hadn’t she said to Chad, “I’m not oriented. I’m unsure. I need help.” She never had. She’d listened. She hadn’t even been old enough to have opinions to help. She hadn’t had the ideas to contribute. Nor had she known how to discuss her isolation.

He had felt he was sharing.

She had felt left out, left behind, lacking in experience.

So did she now have the experience to help out? To listen? To observe?

Jo looked at her ex-husband. He was miles away. He was thinking about something else altogether. She could not hold his attention, even now.

He caught her observation. He said, “What would you think about coming back to Indiana with me? You are so self-confident now, that I believe you could handle being a prof’s wife. Let’s see, shall we? I want you back. I’ve missed you like bloody hell.”

“How could anyone miss anything ‘like bloody hell’ and actually want it? That sounds quite awful.”

“That’s how it’s been for me since you left.”

“You’ve hidden it well.”

“I married you too soon. You needed some adult shine—that’s like city shine for a country boy.”

“You’ve been researching living with a student?”

“In all this time, I’ve talked to your dad. He’s told me where you are, what you’re doing and if you’re going with anyone very much. He’s kept me in touch.”

“You’ve actually, really been talking to Dad?”

“I like him.”

“What all has he said?”

“To be patient. You need to mature.”

She gasped in indignation, “He would never have told you that!”