by Liz Durano
I don’t even remember the specifics about the paper Jenn and I were presenting, but it involved something about diabetes and its high prevalence among Native Americans. When I said something about how fry bread had a painful history with the Native Americans, that’s when Benny actually looked up from his laptop and listened to what I had to say. I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice him listening, but it was impossible. I could feel him looking at me—really feel him—and it made my belly clench.
I’d heard about how some people just make you tremble with excitement and anticipation and Benny had that, him with his intense dark eyes and a smirk that I had wanted to wipe off his face at first. There was raw power behind those lashes but if he thought I’d fall at his feet groveling for his attention, he was wrong. It didn’t take too long for me to demand what the hell he was looking at and that’s when he learned that no one messed with Sarah Drexel either.
“Hey, Sarah! Happy Valentine’s Day,” Maura, the barista greets me the moment I walk in. The place is not so busy but they’ve decorated it for the holiday with red flowers and balloons. On the stage, someone is setting up a banner that says Galentine Night Coffee Mixer and at the bottom For ladies celebrating ladies.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I say as I scan the room, looking for a familiar face until I find one sitting by the window.
“You made it.” Harlow gets up from her chair and in three strides, envelops me in a warm embrace. Harlow once told me that she was never a hugger, preferring to keep people at arms’ length and if she did greet someone it was the European way, cheek to cheek. But all that changed when she met my brother. Now she can’t dispense hugs enough and how I love her for it.
She guides me to the table and we sit down. “So what’s going on?” I ask as she signals Maura that we’re ready to order. “What if I don’t want to order anything?”
“Then I’ll order,” she says stubbornly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too,” I say, eyeing her suspiciously. “Did Benny send you here? Is he coming home?”
“I don’t know,” Harlow replies. “All I know is that Dax told me to meet you here.”
My eyes narrow. “He did?”
“Yup, he said you wanted to meet for coffee.”
I’m going to kill Dax when I see him again. But then I pause, remembering that the handwriting on the card wasn’t anything like Dax’s chicken scratches. It’s Benny’s handwriting, I’m sure of it. Even the warning that if I called him, everything would be over is so Benny. Only he can pull off something like that with me.
“Everything okay?” Harlow asks as I take a deep breath, hating that I have no idea what’s going on and I’m being a spoil sport. I should really just chill and enjoy her company.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” I say as Maura comes over and asks us what we’re having. The Zia Moon doesn’t really have a full kitchen, so it’s primarily sandwiches and coffee but I don’t mind. I’m so nervous I can barely eat anything, anyway.
We spend the next half hour enjoying lunch while talking about what’s new with me. There had been a steep learning curve when I first started managing the agency and although the owners stayed for two months to show me how to do things, it was Harlow who helped me weather each day. She and her best friend have a private practice in Manhattan and she helped me understand the mindset of a business owner. After all, that’s what I am now.
So I keep it simple, telling her all about Dyami’s Valentine card exchange and about the one card he refused to show Nana or me. I do my best not to mention Benny at all except that he’s missing Valentine’s day because of work in Colorado.
If I was looking for Harlow to show me some sign when I talk about Benny—a blink of an eye or a nervous tic—she doesn’t show any. Either she really doesn’t know what’s going on or she’s good.
“Did you know I met Benny here… well, the Albuquerque location, that is,” I say. “We were so excited when we read the announcement that they were opening another location here. They have one in Santa Fe but nothing beats this location.”
“I hear their Poetry Slam night is packed.”
I nod. “Yes, it is. They have some real good poets around here.”
“Does Benny do poetry?” Harlow asks.
I think for a few moments. “Not really. Not seriously, but he tries. We come here to listen to the poets and, of course, enjoy the coffee.”
“They do serve good coffee,” Harlow says, signaling for the check. I should have caught it but I didn’t, too intent on trying to catch her reveal something. While someone busses the tables, you don’t signal for the check at the Zia Moon. They don’t even take your order at your table like Maura did earlier. You paid for your order first.
I open my mouth to ask Harlow what she’s doing but Maura arrives at the table and sets a small tray that holds a red card. I look at Harlow accusingly but it’s no use. She’s now wearing a Cheshire Cat grin.
“Open it,” she says innocently as I pick up the envelope and tear it open.
Chapter Five
The next stop takes me to the Harwood Museum of Art, a two-story adobe museum in the heart of Taos. It began as a private home of Burt and Elizabeth Harwood and later became Taos’ only library in the early 1900s. It’s since been gifted by the Harwood Foundation to the University of New Mexico and hosts many events that Benny and I have attended. It also houses well-known Navajo artist R. C. Gorman’s work featuring Pueblo and Navajo subjects.
I meet Alma Thomas-Villier at the entrance of the museum. By now, I’ve told myself to just let things happen. Clearly, Benny planned this ahead of time and the last thing I want to do is mess it up just because I’m about to die from curiosity.
“Hey, Sarah! How are you?” Alma asks as I give her a hug. She’s a new transplant to Taos from Los Angeles and recently married to one of the Villier brothers who helped Dax build the Pearl, the earthship he calls home.
“I’m good. How’s the family?” The family is Sawyer Villier, her husband, Drea, their newborn baby daughter, and Tyler, her two-year-old son with her late husband, Drew.
“They’re somewhere getting me something for Valentine’s,” she says, laughing. “What about you? How’s your day going so far?”
“I don’t know. You tell me,” I reply, peering at her. “How’d you get roped into this? Did Benny call you?”
“Benny?” She shakes her head, frowning. “No, Sawyer told me you were meeting me here. That way, he and Ty can do their thing. Why? Is something supposed to be happening?”
I love how innocent she looks as I waggle my finger at her. “You’re good, Alma. Like Harlow, you’re good. I just saw her at Zia Moon.”
“Oh, I love their coffee.” She interlaces her arm with mine. “Why don’t you show me around the museum? Sawyer told me you know this place like the back of your hand.”
“I do,” I say, laughing, telling myself to enjoy the ride. “Don’t ask me to draw though, unless you want to see stick figures in action. Not-safe-for-work action at that.”
Alma and I spend the next hour going through my favorite rooms in the museum, those that feature Pueblo and Native American art as well as temporary installations that are mostly modern. I tell her about the events they often hold here like Tai-chi and yoga classes and the trips that Dyami’s class takes here during the school year where they get to learn about art and create their own pieces. But it’s not like Alma doesn’t know. She takes her son here a lot, too.
Still, it’s the only thing I can do so I don’t ask her what the heck is going on and what’s going to happen next. I hate to admit it but I’m actually having fun. If Benny had this planned for some time, then he did a good job planning it. If this is something he came up on the spur of the moment, then he did a great job, too. He isn’t the head of his department for nothing.
“Did you know this is where Benny first told me he loved me?” I say as Alma looks at me in surprise. “
Yup. Right here.”
I don’t say any more, the rest of the information running through my head like a documentary I never expected to switch on. But somehow this is what this little adventure is doing to me, like a forgotten photo album discovered and its pages slow flipped and viewed.
When Benny finally said those three words that day, I’d been waiting for him to say them for a long time. Although we first met while students at UNM in Albuquerque, it wasn’t until two years after we both graduated that our paths crossed again.
“But I thought you guys met in Albuquerque and started dating then.”
“We did, but we didn’t really date although that’s what everyone thought,” I say, chuckling as I continue. “Benny was actually the resident man-whore, if you ask me although he’d never admit it. But all the girls were crazy about him.”
“But you guys were together, right? I thought Dax said you were inseparable then.”
“In a way, but it wasn’t romantic or anything. We hung out, studied together, argued a lot—because Benny always thinks he knows everything—and just did what friends did. Or that’s what I did on my end. I was so determined not to fall in his bed but that didn’t mean I made it easy for him when he tried asking me out on an official date,” I say, laughing. “He’s never forgiven me for that.”
“Not sleeping with him then?”
“For being the first girl to say no to him,” I reply. “I mean, have you seen him? Sometimes I pinch myself still because I can’t believe we’re still together after so long.”
“So what happened?” Alma asks. “I mean, how’d you end up together-together, like a couple?”
“We ran into each other in Shiprock when I was working as a traveling nurse.”
“I didn’t know that,” Alma says. “Why a traveling nurse?”
“Because it paid well. I also needed to be in the same state because Dax at that time was getting into trouble a lot and Mom needed an extra hand to tell him to quit it. I’d work three days straight and the next three days, I’d stay in Taos and give Dax hell. He was sixteen then and a pain in the butt.”
“And that’s when you met Benny again?”
“Yup, that’s when I met him again and I guess by then, things were different. We’d grown up. One of us got cockier and the other got more… confident. He actually got Dax all straightened out,” I say, remembering the day Benny walked through the doors of the Emergency Room like it was yesterday. Tall and tanned from collecting samples by the San Juan River, it was a shock to the system to see him again. He’d cut his arm when the truck his colleague drove rolled off the embankment and broken glass from the side window cut through his bicep. I cleaned it and under the harried doctor’s orders, stitched it up. All that time, we never showed any sign that we knew each other. He was too busy watching my every move while I kept reminding myself to remain calm, the words It’s only Benny running through my mind like some mantra as I gave him a tetanus shot.
But this time, I knew if he’d ask me out to dinner or suggest we play hopscotch under the covers, there was no way I’d say no. And when he did, I didn’t. It was as if all the foreplay had been done back in Albuquerque two years earlier and we were ready to take it further—but just far enough so we were still comfortable, still believing we didn’t need each other for more than just sex.
No commitments, okay? I’d told him while making dinner at his apartment that night because he ended up with a fever from the tetanus shot and I told myself he needed a bit of TLC. I don’t have time for complications.
No commitments, he’d agreed as he stood behind me and planted a kiss on my shoulder. Fine with me, Sarah.
So much for that. Twelve years later, here we are.
“Anyway, after I got done with my contract in Shiprock, I found a position here as a hospice nurse,” I continue. “And the bureau that he works for has an office here and that’s where he asked to be assigned so it worked out for both of us.”
“Isn’t it weird that after two years you both ran into each other in Shiprock?”
“Yes, it was. His mother lives there, too, as does the girl he was supposed to marry,” I reply, my mood suddenly shifting.
“So what were you guys doing here when he said he loved you?” Alma asks, as if she didn’t even hear my reference to Noelle.
“We were attending a fundraiser here when he said he loved me. It was a wine tasting and silent auction so who knows? We were probably both tipsy from all the wine but I didn’t care. He said it and that’s what mattered.”
Ayóó anííníshní.
Even though I didn’t know many Navajo words then, I knew what he meant. By then, I’d learned the meaning behind the words that accompanied his every breath, every touch, every kiss.
I love you.
“It was also when I knew,” I say softly.
“Knew what?”
“That he was the one,” I reply, chuckling sheepishly. “Sounds crazy, right? How can you really know someone’s the one for you? I mean, life is not a fairy tale, you know. It’s not like one day, your prince comes and life turns into rainbows and roses.”
Or in our case, leather straps and ball gags.
Alma looks at me but doesn’t say anything right away. There’s a wisdom behind her eyes that I can only imagine. She’d lost her first husband to suicide.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I really shouldn’t say such things. It’s Valentine’s Day, for crying out loud.”
“Of course you can. Life can be whatever we make of it, Sarah. It just takes work, I think, and in many ways, fate,” she says, smiling faintly. “After Drew died, I never thought I’d fall in love again. I actually just gave up. I just went where I was supposed to go and did the things I was supposed to do but I wasn’t really living. I was just… existing. But I ran into Sawyer one day and then I realized that life is really what you make of it. The glass is going to be either half empty or half-full. Anyway, Sawyer happened in my life and here I am. Tyler and I couldn’t be happier.”
I squeeze her hand. “You’re so right, Alma. Life is what you make of it and I really should stop being so cynical.”
Or ungrateful, for that matter. The only reason I’ve always felt Valentine’s is just another commercial holiday is because Benny always makes it personal.
“I don’t think you’re being cynical. You’re just being… practical, I guess. Realistic, maybe?” Alma says, grinning. “But look at you two. Twelve years together and every time I see you guys, it’s like you just started dating. You guys laugh a lot and just… just have fun. Sawyer and I want to be just like you and Benny when we grow up.”
“Oh no! No no no! Now you’re making me feel so old,” I laugh, relieved she changed the subject although the last thing I want to discuss is how Benny and I keep the passion between us going as hot as it has been. It’d probably make Alma blush from the top of her head all the way down to her perfectly painted toes. “Why don’t we keep walking around?”
Half an hour later, Alma gets a call from Sawyer letting her know they’re on their way back to the museum.
“You gonna be okay?” Alma asks as we make our way to the front entrance. I can’t believe I actually forgot all about the time as we strolled through the rooms looking at Pueblo and Native American art and pottery.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” I say, before eyeing her suspiciously. “Shouldn’t you be giving me something at this time?”
“Oh! That’s right!” She takes a red envelope from her back jeans pocket and hands it to me. “This is for you.”
“Oh, Alma, you’re so cute. What if I hadn’t said anything?”
She winks at me. “I’d still have remembered.”
“Can you, at least, tell me what’s going on? A hint maybe?”
“Nope. My lips are sealed.” She pretends to zip her lips with her thumb and pointer finger. “And even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know what to tell you. Apparently, I’m on a need to know basis.”
“Who e
lse is in on this?”
“I have no clue.” She gives me in a hug and steps back just as an SUV stops at the curb, Sawyer behind the wheel while the kids are in their baby car seats in the back. “Anyway, I’m going to leave you to go on your next adventure then. Happy Valentine’s Day!”
I wave to Sawyer and Tyler as Alma gets in the passenger seat. I wait until they drive away before turning my attention to the envelope. It’s red just like the first two that I’d received.
I want to call Benny so bad and ask him what the hell is going on. I mean, I get it. He can’t be with me for Valentine’s Day and he’s doing what he can to make it up to me, but this is too much. Unlike Benny, I’ve never been patient. But as I turn the envelope over in my hand, I guess there’s a first time for everything.
Chapter Six
“I hear you’re heading home, Doc. Probably best since there’s really not much for you to do here anymore, right?”
“Not for what I do, no,” I reply, seeing Larry walking toward me. He looks tired, still sporting a coffee stain on his collar from this morning’s breakfast. “That’s what you guys are here for.”
“That’s what I figured. So did you get to move your flight to today?”
“Not yet. There are no available seats. Just my luck, everyone heading to Taos today. All flights are full. And when there was an available seat, a damn employee took it.”
With my colleagues and I having completed all our interviews and collected all the samples we’d needed the moment we arrived until yesterday, from here on, everything we do is from a laptop, studying interactive maps and reviewing test results the moment we get them. There’s so much more, of course, but as far as my being onsite, as the head scientist, I’m pretty much done. Too bad all the commercial flights are full and I’ve been on standby for the last two hours.
