Summer Dreams

by Hebby Roman

  "Bueno, bueno. Then we understand each other." He smiled and revealed a gleaming gold-plated bicuspid.

  "How much?" Hector asked.

  "At least the first interest payment."

  Hector gulped. The stock market lay in the doldrums, neither up nor down. With it like that, no one made money, all they did was trade paper around, hoping for a break. Where could he raise several thousand dollars quickly? He went over all the possibilities again without finding a solution.

  And then it dawned on him. Natalia's diamond and emerald engagement ring was worth at least ten thousand dollars. He'd paid twice that, retail. And if the stock market was uninspiring, then the smart money gravitated to commercial real estate.

  He needed to make a quick trip to New Mexico.

  ***

  The plaza of Santa Fe never failed to enchant Natalia. Crossing the cobbled streets was like stepping back in time, like entering another world. The bustling plaza, filled with artist booths, was ringed by adobe structures, their smooth terra-cotta walls pierced by blackened wooden poles supporting flat roofs. Except for the artists, the plaza had changed little since Spanish occupation.

  Waiting on the island of green between the old adobe buildings, she imagined what it would have been like to live here when the Santa Fe Trail had been the major artery to the uncharted West. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could envision a bustling frontier outpost in the midst of the wilderness, alive with the various peoples who had made New Mexico their home.

  Opening her eyes, she fell under the spell of the modern-day plaza with its quaint shops and art galleries. On one side of the square, Navajo and Hopi Indians gathered their wares for the night, rolling up the blankets that served as an open air market. Lights twinkled in the square-cut windows, pouring from balconies and peeking from behind wooden casements. An odd assortment of locals and tourists strolled about, stopping to admire paintings, sculptures, jewelry, and native handicrafts.

  Esteban couldn't have picked a nicer place for their evening of celebration. She always made a point of coming here at least once each summer.

  As if her thoughts had conjured him, she spied him crossing the northern corner to the grassy park that held the antique bandstand. Since motor traffic wasn't allowed within the plaza area, he'd dropped her one block over while he searched for a parking place.

  She'd often wondered if he owned any clothes besides blue jeans. Tonight, when he'd picked her up, he'd solved that mystery by appearing in khaki pants, navy blazer and a white shirt. Amazed at his unexpected preppy look, it had taken her several minutes to realize he'd added his own personal touches. On his feet, he wore his favorite, silver-skinned ostrich cowboy boots. And no tie graced his collar. Though his clothes were hardly a fashion statement, they suited him perfectly.

  As he strolled towards her, she couldn't help but think how handsome he looked. Unlike his usual skin-tight jeans, the khaki pants' tailored fit only hinted at his slender waist and muscular thighs, making her imagination work overtime. The navy blazer, cut to fit his frame, emphasized his broad shoulders and powerful chest. And the snow-white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, framed his dark good looks.

  Stopping before her, he teased, "Did you miss me?"

  She pressed her heart with both hands and giggled. "More than you'll ever know."

  "That's my girl." He brushed her forehead with a kiss and then took her arm.

  Was she really his girl? The thought radiated inside of her, warming her like a roaring fire on a snowy night. Quivering under his touch, she relished the moment, wishing time could stand still. With his hand on her arm and surrounded by the enchantment of Old Santa Fe, she wanted this night to last forever, stretching before them in endless anticipation.

  Bemused and blissfully unaware of where he was taking her, they crossed the square and entered one of the posadas. The hotel's high-beamed ceilings and tile floors bespoke history and timeless elegance. At the far side of the lobby, he ushered her inside two leaded-glass doors.

  The maître d', formally attired in a tuxedo, greeted them before a huge dried arrangement of native grasses and wildflowers. A hushed but vibrant hum emanated from the other side of the arched doorway.

  Following the maître d', they entered the dining room. Its white-washed adobe walls reflected the light of silver-chased chandeliers. The walls and niches were covered with an eclectic mixture of Southwestern paintings and Victorian antiques. Dark walnut tables sported crisp linens and vases filled with colorful flowers.

  Finding their table in a corner of the room, Esteban held her chair for her. She seated herself and took in the diverse crowd of diners.

  Leaning across the table, he said, "I don't know if you've been here before, but this is called the Staab House. It was a Victorian residence erected by a Mister Staab, a prominent Santa Fe merchant in the late nineteenth century. After the family sold the house, investors built this hotel around it." Arching his eyebrows, he whispered, "Some people say the hotel is haunted by Staab's wife."

  Attuned to the history of the place, Natalia shivered at the thought and asked, "Why would she haunt it? It's so beautiful, wasn't she happy here?"

  He laid his hand on her forearm. "If I remember the story correctly, Mistress Staab was happy here for many years. They raised a large family in the house, but her youngest child died when he was baby. She never got over the loss. That's why people say she haunts the place."

  "Oh, it's sad to lose a baby, even if you already have a large family."

  "Sí, it is."

  Absorbed in the Victorian tragedy, they were both startled when a figure loomed over them and cleared his throat. The waiter introduced himself with, "My name is Felix, and I'll be serving you tonight." He handed them gold-embossed menus, told them about the specials of the day, and inquired after their drink orders.

  After a moment's hesitation, Natalia asked for a white wine spritzer. Esteban ordered a club soda with a twist of lime. She was surprised and touched by his choice of a non-alcoholic beverage. It was a long, mountainous drive home to Pura's farm and now she wouldn't have to worry about the twisting roads.

  Nor would she need to worry about his slurred conversation or groping hands. She shook her head and tried to stop herself before she made the comparison but couldn't. Hector had been a heavy social drinker, with the emphasis on heavy.

  "What do you think of the menu selections?" Esteban asked. "Do you want Felix to repeat the specials? I want you to try something special. They make great New Mexican dishes here."

  "What was the seafood special?"

  "Pescado encantado, it's one of their signature dishes, a swordfish in puff pastry with a combination of mole and green chile sauce."

  "I don't like swordfish," she said. "But I would love some seafood."

  "Get the shrimp then." He pointed to one of the selections on the menu. "Garlic-seared shrimp with avocado salsa. I've heard it's one of their best dishes."

  "Sounds great. What are you having?"

  "I'm torn between the carne asada, and the blue corn enchiladas."

  She laughed, feeling completely at home with him, in this up-scale restaurant, trying to decide what to eat. "Get the enchiladas. I'm dying to see blue tortillas."

  He laughed, too. "I'm not sure they come out blue. But I'll get them just so we can see." He reached his right hand across the table and took her hand in his.

  From the way he was looking at her, he was enjoying being with her as much as she was enjoying being here. She hadn't expected the ease of their being together. Her frame of reference was Pura's farm and his ball games. But here they were, in a totally new world, exploring new things and laughing about it.

  "How about an appetizer?" He asked.

  "I don't think I can eat that much, Esteban. Dinner comes with a salad."

  "We could share one. I'm told their mushroom and goat cheese quesadillas are great."

  "I hope they don't have to milk a goat as ornery as Apolinaria for the c
heese."

  His dark gaze caught hers, and they exploded in laughter again.

  He squeezed her hand. With her hand enfolded in his, she savored the warmth of his flesh, the calloused strength of his fingers. How many times had they, as children, held hands? How many times had he touched her, gifting her with tenderness?

  More times than she could remember.

  Their drinks arrived and then Felix reappeared. Releasing her hand, Esteban ordered for them and handed the menus to the waiter. She wished he would take her hand again. She wanted to take his. But she couldn't bring herself to be so forward.

  "You don't drink alcohol?" Natalia asked.

  "Very seldom. It doesn't mix with sports. Occasionally I'll have a beer or two with friends. But we have a long drive home tonight."

  "I'll drink to that," she quipped, chuckling and raising her glass for a toast. "And here's wishing you the very best in your baseball career, Esteban. May the scout recognize your talent and your dreams come true."

  He clinked his glass with hers. "Do you really mean that?"

  "Sí, with all my heart."

  "I didn't think you approved of my ambition to be a ballplayer, Natalia. I know your father is an attorney and---"

  "Don't, Esteban. Not everyone can be or wants to be an attorney."

  Was she that transparent? Was it so obvious she admired men with professions? Had her unspoken preference wounded Esteban? She hoped not because he was a self-made man, having been given no advantages and having had to work hard for his accomplishments.

  Unlike her or Hector. They'd both been given every advantage.

  But she must stop comparing Esteban with Hector. It wasn't fair to either one of them, as they came from such disparate backgrounds.

  "Tell me exactly what your agent said," she prompted, wanting to change the subject. "How did you find an agent in the first place? How long have you had him? Is he any good?"

  "Slow down, Natalia," he said. "One question at a time, por favor."

  "Okay, one question at a time---how did you find him?"

  "He found me. He ... he does have a name." Esteban chuckled. "It's Alvarez, Carlos Alvarez. Carlos came to one of my Double A games, liked what he saw, stayed afterward and signed me last summer."

  "Do you have to pay him?"

  "Not unless he gets me a contract with a ball club. Agents only make money when the players they represent make money, at least reputable agents."

  "Is your agent any good? Isn't a year a long time to have an agent and not get a response from the majors?"

  "Not necessarily. Everything depends upon timing. Which ball club is looking for what? Who's been injured? If there are any expansion teams on the horizon---things like that. A year isn't very long to have your name out there."

  "Oh, it must be very competitive."

  "Sí." He exhaled. "That's putting it mildly."

  "But why did you have to go to Albuquerque? Couldn't Carlos have told you on the phone?"

  "I didn't just go for that reason. Actually, I went to finalize some arrangements about an autumn showcase team I'll be in. When I got there, Carlos told me the good news."

  "What's a showcase team?"

  "Hey, why do I feel like I'm giving you a crash course on professional baseball?"

  "Because you are," she said. "And because I'm interested."

  Before he could answer, Felix brought their appetizer and set it in the middle of the table. Natalia glanced at the quesadillas---half-moons of baked flour tortillas, oozing mushrooms and cheese. Her mouth watered. She grabbed her fork and started to help herself. But Esteban stopped her by touching the back of her hand and with his knife and fork, he cut the quesadillas into bite-size pieces.

  Poised with a square of quesadilla on his fork, he reached across the table. "Open up."

  Obediently, she opened her mouth and accepted the tidbit. The flavors were heavenly, mushrooms and cheese melted together with just the right combination of spices.

  "Bueno," he asked.

  "Muy bien."

  He took a forkful then and smiled.

  Following his example, they took turns feeding each other bites of quesadillas. Natalia had never realized how erotic it could be to feed another person. Brushing her fingers against his lips made her crave more. They'd kissed, but what would it be like to explore his full, sensual lips with her fingertips? She yearned to linger at the corners of his mouth and caress the soft flesh there.

  Watching his heated gaze glide over her, she knew he was thinking the same thing. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the experience, envisioning them together, in a private place, with time stretched before them.

  She imagined herself exploring every inch of his heated flesh, stroking over the hard planes of his chest, reveling in the breadth of his shoulders, and lower ... she would ...

  Felix cleared his throat and asked if they needed anything else. Natalia awoke with a jolt. Frustrated and embarrassed at the same time, she asked for a coffee. With cheery professionalism, Felix assured them their entrees were on the way.

  She pushed the empty appetizer dish aside and tried hard to ignore the aura of sexual tension surrounding them. She reminded Esteban, "You were going to tell me about a showcase team."

  "Sí." Esteban wiped his mouth with his napkin. "A showcase team is put together for the specific purpose of presenting undiscovered talent to scouts. Sometimes the team plays several games, moving from town to town, hoping to attract regional scouts. Other times, it's a one-shot deal, with scouts coming from all over the U.S."

  "Oh, and you're going in autumn."

  "Not if this deal comes through with the Royals."

  "What is going to happen, exactly? With the Royals, I mean?"

  "Well, later this month, one of their scouts will come and watch me play. If he thinks I'm good enough and what the team needs, he might sign me."

  "But you don't know when it will be---when the scout will come."

  "Nooo," he drew out the word. "It's better that way, Natalia. If I knew he was in the stands, I might choke up."

  "And that definitely wouldn't be good."

  "It's a hard business." He shrugged. "Very competitive."

  This time she didn't hesitate. She reached her hand across the table and took his hand in hers and pressed it. Impulsively, she lifted his hand to her lips and brushed it with her mouth.

  "I'll pray for you, Esteban. You deserve to be discovered."

  His granite-gray gaze pierced her, asking questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Her heart hammered in her chest and warmth flooded her body. She was grateful for the muted lighting of the restaurant. Otherwise, he would have noticed the tell-tale flush on her face.

  He raised her hand to his lips and duplicated the caress, his mouth whisper-soft on her skin. Quivering under his touch, her blood heated, flowing like warm honey through her veins. Tiny electric shocks tingled through her, bringing a rash of gooseflesh to her arms.

  The restaurant and other diners faded. It was as if no one existed but the two of them. Gazing into his eyes, she read his desire there. And she'd never felt more desirable in her life.

  "Your support means more than being discovered, Natalia. You mean everything to me," he said, his voice soft with meaning.

  ***

  The dashboard lights cast an eerie glow on Esteban's features, darkening his eyes and spreading deep hollows beneath his high cheekbones. She felt like she was staring at a stranger, not someone she'd known for years. But the lighting was only a convenient excuse; a way to rationalize the turmoil she was feeling about tonight.

  He hadn't spoken for several minutes, intent upon navigating the freeway traffic of Santa Fe. That was just as well, she needed time to sort her thoughts too. What had begun as a magical evening had turned into something more ... something frightening in its intensity.

  Esteban cared for her.

  And not just as another trophy to add to his collection. Though the attraction between them was th
ere, simmering beneath the surface, threatening to burst into flames. But it was more than passion, deeper than desire, that she'd found in Esteban tonight.

  He was hungry ... hungry for all of her, heart, body and soul. And Dios help her, she knew that same hunger. But was she ready for this? Especially when she cringed from taking risks and liked her life to follow an orderly pattern with no surprises. But how could she deny her feelings, the need to crawl inside the strong embrace of his arms and stay there ... forever.

  "A penny for your thoughts," he said.

  She glanced out the window and watched the lights of Santa Fe grow fewer and fainter, receding behind their speeding car. The mountains loomed before them, bulking against the night sky.

  "I was thinking what a wonderful dinner we had tonight. The food was marvelous."

  "Sí, even the mango flan was special." They'd shared a dessert, as they'd shared the quesadillas, feeding each other, making a subtle kind of love with their eyes and fingertips. Natalia shivered, remembering.

  "Are you cold?" he asked. "I could turn on the heater. The temperature always drops at night."

  "No, I'm fine. Gracias."

  "And you don't mind making an early night of it? I'm sorry, but I have a game tomorrow."

  "No, I don't mind. I wish I could come see you play, but I've got a paper to write." She half-turned in the car seat and asked, "Isn't it hard, waiting for the scout to come? I know you said it is better not to know when he does. But isn't it hard?"

  Exhaling a long breath, he agreed, "It's hard, but I've adopted a kind of philosophy to see me through this. I guess you could call it a philosophy. Or maybe it's just a way to put my life in perspective." He shrugged. "I know how difficult it is to make the big leagues. It's a dream few achieve. That's why I can't allow it to rule my life, to become an obsession, blocking everything else out."

  Puzzled, she said, "I don't think I follow you, Esteban. I thought you wanted to play ball more than anything else."

  "I do, and you have to be dedicated if you want to succeed. But there are other things that interest me, too."

  "Like hospitality management?"