Delgado had been acting strange all through the holidays. Missed a couple different afternoon shifts at the Grounds for Divorce. Lucinda didn’t even ask him why, she just rolled with it, as is her normal modus operandi. Anyone can have a bad day. Sometimes those stretch into a week or two.

Their’s was a complicated relationship, anyway.  The last thing she wanted to do was make it more complex by asking unnecessary questions.  She was the first one to tell people, “Life is not a fairy tale.  If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.”  Besides, the holidays can be stressful on anyone.  The situation with Delgado’s family didn’t make the holidays any easier than any other family, to be sure.

New Year’s Eve had been a quiet one; a sign of things settling back down into a comfortable routine, Lucinda hoped. She bowed out of the annual celebration at the Lucky Lady Lounge that wound up with the crowds all gathering around the courthouse on the square at midnight, counting down as the giant papier mâché heifer lowers down the lighting rod atop the roof and explodes at midnight, spraying the crowd with Milk Duds and corn dogs. The resulting maffick of the revelers being more than even Lucinda wanted to deal with.

Delgado was at her place till a little  after midnight, then left saying he had things he needed to tend to early the next day.  With the Grounds for Divorce being closed for New Years she had no idea what he could be working on, but theirs was a relationship built on plenty of space, few questions, and reliance on the basics.  Lucinda had learned many relationships back that it is impossible to always be motivated; so it is critical to be disciplined.  Part of that discipline involved asking as few questions as she could.

Frankly, Lucinda was amazed their relationship lasted as long as it had, the primary basis of it being an incredible physical attraction. The ways Delgado found to keep things interesting surprised her, and she was not a woman easily surprised. She attributed his prowess between the sheets, amongst other locations, as something he’d inherited from his Columbian mother. It certainly was a cut above what she’d been used to, and she was used to some creative coupling.

Her history with men had earned her the admiration of many and the scorn of a few in Fort Stockton.  None of that bothered her.  “It’s always the ones with dirty hands pointing the fingers,” she used to say.  “You should never regret anything in life.  If it’s good, it’s wonderful.  If it’s bad, it’s experience.”  All in all, not a bad philosophy.

Nonetheless, she had seen enough change in Delgado that she figured something must be up.  In talking about it with Sister Thelma, Lucinda said, “Sometimes I wrestle with my demons.  Sometimes we just snuggle.  Might be time to quit snuggling and go ahead and call this one out onto the mat.”  Sister Thelma understood, or nodded her head like she did, anyway.  That was all the encouragement Lucinda needed.  She vowed to address the situation and see just what was going on.

As fate would have it, she didn’t have to do a thing.

“It’s slow.  Let’s lock up early and go for a drive,” Delgado said as she was wiping down the red and white checkered tablecloths and refilling the salt and pepper shakers.  The look on his face when he said it was one she hadn’t seen in a few weeks, since before the holidays.  Maybe he was about to reveal the reason for his shift in demeanor on his own.  If not, it would be the perfect opportunity away from the diner and interruptions for Lucinda to see if she could draw him out.

Lucinda, through the front window,  watched Delgado put the top down on the Electra, despite the nip in the air.  She grabbed her sweater, headed to the front door, locked it and crawled into the front seat of the old Buick.  She was a sucker for young men who drove old cars and always had been.  She felt like the patina on Delgado’s Electra told stories.  Not unlike the stories he himself shared in their most intimate moments that had little to do with cars.  “I hope this sweater will be warm enough.  It’s gonna be downright chilly when the sun goes down.”

“Don’t worry about needing heat,” he smiled.  She doubted he was referring to the sliding controls of the heater perched above the radio and wondered what he had in mind.  He reached over to the glove box and opened the door to turn on the modern radio hidden inside, tuning in a smooth jazz playlist from the phone in his pocket.

As they drove out west of town, the sun felt good on her skin and she dropped the sweater from her shoulders, hiked her skirt up from her lower legs, and threw her head back to bask in the warmth of it. The sight of that much skin made Delgado want to slow down and keep his eye on her rather than the road. At the same time, it made him want to speed up and get to the destination sooner. Such was the effect Lucinda had.

She recognized they were driving in the general direction of his father’s place.  The relationship Delgado had with his father had always been tough to define.  His mother had been his father’s housekeeper.  The two had never married.  It was unconventional for Fort Stockton, complicated for Delgado.  Lucinda couldn’t imagine why they’d be heading to his place.

The air smelled like west Texas, unique in its composition of red dirt, oil, tumbleweed, open space and long history. The best thing was the sky that went on forever. People from big cities always felt overwhelmed by the vastness of the sky, the pure blueness of it. It made them feel small. It never made Lucinda feel small. Nothing did. Any feelings of smallness had been bred out of the women of her lineage as they crossed the plains a hundred and fifty years earlier.

The Buick pulled off the road about five miles past Delgado’s father’s place. It came to a stop in front of a cattle gate. Delgado put the Buick in PARK, got out, unlocked the gate and swung it wide open. Back in the convertible, he dropped the gear shift into Drive and spun the rear tires of the Electra, kicking up a cloud of dust that didn’t end for the next mile. As they rounded a corner, around a small grove of trees, an Airstream trailer appeared out of nowhere. Delgado slowed the car as they got close to the aluminum clad beast. Once stopped, he got out and came around to the passenger door.

Lucinda, not one to be easily impressed, couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the beauty of the spot. A stream cut through the property thirty yards from where the trailer was parked. A small concrete slab had been poured to serve as a patio next to the Airstream. It was an idyllic setting, to be sure, but not one Lucinda could fully put in context. “Beautiful spot, but why are we here, Delgado?Whose place is this?”

“Come inside,” he said.

Inside, the Airstream was gorgeous.  A combination of muted colors and light wood tones that were soothing and impressive.  Delgado wanted to show her everything in the trailer, from one end to the other, explaining every feature and detailing every convenience.  Lucinda got a kick out of his enthusiasm as the sun began to set on the horizon.  The colors it turned the clouds were like a southwest watercolor painting people don’t think could ever be real.

“I’ve been working on this for months,” he explained. My father deeded me fifty acres from the ranch. I think it’s the most beautiful part of the whole place. I’m sure my mother talked him into it. Anyway, owning it free and clear, I was able to get financing for the Airstream. Took me a while to find it. Then get it brought in and set up. A well. Electricity. The concrete patio. Didn’t think I could keep it a secret much longer.”

“It’s beautiful, Delgado.  Such a perfect setting,” Lucinda replied.  And it was.  The view through the windows was as gorgeous as any to be found within a hundred miles of Fort Stockton.

And then Delgado opened a drawer and pulled out a small velvet covered box and handed it to Lucinda.  Inside was a dainty gold ring with a small diamond.  “The Airstream is for us.  The ring is for you.  Both are for our future.”

All at once, everything became clear as to what was going on.  Lucinda was completely caught off guard, but did all she could not to show it.  She embraced Delgado in a tight hug and planted a kiss on his lips that was long and wet and kept him from saying anything else.  Eventually he pulled away and began talking about a house on the site some day, but probably not for several years, and kids.  Maybe waiting till they could build the house, but maybe not.

The sweater fell to the ground. Then her clothes. His were quickly piled on top.

The Airstream was not an expansive space. It didn’t take long for all of it to be used as a playground to distract Delgado from any additional talk. Two hours later, the two of them collapsed in a sweaty heap and fell asleep. Darkness had fully enveloped the trailer.

The next morning, when Delgado awoke he was alone in the Airstream.  On the kitchen counter next to the stove was a folded Piggly Wiggly brown paper bag.  On the back of it, in eyebrow pencil, was a note:

My Delgado,

Thank you for the evening.  And the proposal.  The vision we each have for our lives is vastly different.  We can each move forward chasing our own version while enjoying the company of one another.  Or we can forge those trails alone from this point onward.

While I appreciate your efforts and preparation, the confines of kids and trailers is a mold it has taken a couple generations for the women of my family to free themselves from.  It is not my destiny to return to them.

We can move forward pretending the proposal never occurred and it will never be spoken of again.  Or we can part ways in gratitude for the time well spent that we’ve shared.

L

The small ring was placed below the ‘L’ near the bottom of the bag.

By the time Delgado read the note, Lucinda had walked down the dirt driveway to the cattle gate where Sister Thelma had been called to pick her up and take her back to town.  A true sister, indeed.

Staring out the window of Sister Thelma’s Falcon, Lucinda thought back over the long months of the relationship she’d shared with Delgado and wondered if she’d somehow misled him with any of her words or actions.  She came up empty-handed.  “How can men be so clueless?” she asked.

“There’s a reason I married the church,” Sister Thelma noted.

The next day, Delgado pulled the Electra up into the parking lot next to the Grounds for Divorce. Perhaps as a metaphor, the top had been raised and the windows rolled up. As he came in through the back door to the kitchen and put on his white apron, there was a bittersweet look of regretful acceptance on his face.

The proposal was never mentioned again. A few days later Lucinda stopped by Prarie View Savings & Loan and wrote a check for the balance of the Airstream, allowing each of them to enjoy it free and clear.