Page 69 of Auctioned to the Cowboys

He grins, and his braces make him look younger. “It’s been a long time.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” I say.

“I remember some.”

Taylor stands to the side, watching us with a contented smile, tipping the corners of her sweet lips. If it wasn’t for her, none of this would have happened. She did the groundwork. She got us all to apply for passports and start to imagine we could make the long journey across the ocean.

“Shall we sit?” I ask my son.

He already has an iced coffee on the table, only half drunk. We sit, and I scan the menu, my leg jittering beneath the table. Maybe I should order a beer, something to take the edge off my nerves. Whiskey would be better, but it’s the afternoon, not Saturday night at the bar.

“If you want a beer, this one’s good.” He points at a line on the menu.

“What do you know about beer?” I ask.

Kai shrugs. “Alcohol isn’t a big thing in Europe like it is in the States.”

“I’ll take one of those, too,” Taylor says.

Kai waves over to the waiter and handles the order in fluent Spanish. I take it in with wide eyes. I’m so damned proud of him, but I don’t know where to start.

“So, what do you remember?” Taylor asks.

“I remember a rocking horse,” he says, looking up and to the left, searching his mind for memories buried deep. “I remember a lady with gray hair and small glasses. She had rough hands.”

“Your grandmother, Lizzy.”

“I remember you bouncing me on your knee.” He smiles when he tells us this, which is good. I don’t want my son to feel sad about the time we’ve missed together, but I can’t help the sting behind my eyes. I’ve done enough wallowing in regret and anger. This has to be a time to look forward.

We drink while he tells us about his school and his plans to become an engineer. Seville has a great university, so he won’t need to travel far, although he’s thinking about taking a gap year and backpacking around the rest of Europe. He’s mature and confident with plans that will take him into the adult world with great prospects. For the first time, I recognize that leaving the ranch behind might have been a good thing for him. How different would he be if he’d stayed with me? He’d be riding horses and herding cattle. He’d be shooting the shit with Clint and Maverick and chasing the high school girls in town. Maybe he’d have played basketball or football. He’s tall enough and has an athletic build. Maybe he’d have all the same hopes and dreams, but I doubt it.

He asks about the family he has back home and wants to see pictures of the ranch. I share what I can, and we Facetime Beth, even though it’s ridiculously early back home. She’s awake and waiting for the call even though I said it might not happen. She cries when she sees Kai, but he takes it all in his stride, politely calling her Auntie Beth and patiently answering the same questions I already asked.

After about an hour, Maverick calls, and we arrange to meet. I carry Kai’s bag, wandering through the narrow streets to our meeting place, outside the Cathedral of St. Mary. I watch the way my son walks and marvel at how much he reminds me of my father. There’s something in his gait and the way he holds himself that’s passed down the generations, even though he never had a chance to copy it.

When we approach the cafe where Maverick, Clint, and Molly are waiting, I smile at Kai’s sudden shyness. Molly’s blossomed, and they’re almost the same age. I hadn’t thought about the potential for them to like each other. Rookie error when we’re all going to be staying in the same apartment for three days.

“Wow. Damn,” Maverick says before apologizing for the cursing. “He’s like your doppelganger. It’s like getting in a time machine and going back twenty-five years.” He shakes Kai’s hand vigorously. “Still the same mop of hair,” he smiles.

I introduce everyone, and then we set off to see some of the sights. It’s amazing having a local to explain where we’re going and what we’re seeing. Navigating the roads would be impossible without him because they all seem identical.

Sweet Molly spends most of the afternoon having a blushing crisis. Kai’s a good-looking kid, and when he speaks Spanish, she goes all gooey-eyed and weak-kneed.

As the evening draws in, we stop for tapas and a jug of sangria. Kai orders us a delicious mixture of mini plates: spicy Spanish sausage cooked in wine, intensely flavored cheese, small fried potatoes, Spanish omelet, prawns in a lemony sauce, and breaded balls of goat cheese with a sweet dipping sauce, to name a few. The sangria is fruity and delicious and goes down far too easily. Taylor sits staring out at passersby, her eyes wide as she takes in the well-dressed Spanish couples holding hands and meandering through the streets. It’s a far cry from our local small town. Although I long for the familiarity of home, I can’t help feeling that Kai’s in a good place here, a place where he can be happy and make a good life for himself.

Later, when we’re back at the apartment, Molly and Kai go to bed in separate rooms. I’m sharing with my son, and Taylor is sharing with her sister. Although I’d love to wrap myself around my woman and sink into her delicious body, this is the only practical way to fit into the apartment.

The relief of having almost everyone I care about under one roof is the icing on the cake on this European adventure. The relief of knowing that Taylor’s father has finally been thrown behind bars for his misdemeanors means that we’re all free to breathe easy. I’m relaxed in a way that I haven’t been in as long as I can remember.

Clint and Maverick are slumped onto the sofa, the fan circling overhead, and a Spanish soap opera on TV. “This show’s hilarious,” Maverick says. “Look at their facial expressions. Everything is so exaggerated!”

“Maybe you should audition,” I say. He tosses a small throw pillow at me, which I snatch from the air. Taylor approaches the back of the sofa and grips his shoulders with her hands, making him groan.

“Play nicely, boys. There are kids around.”

“Says the twenty-year-old.” Clint shakes his head as though Taylor’s age still disturbs him.

“I’m practically an old maid with three husbands under my belt.”

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