Chapter Thirty-Three, Part One

Two weeks had passed since the messenger left Castaño, converted Robert’s cash to money orders in Taos, and sent away for clothes from Santa Fe. Although Robert was hardly a stranger to new clothes or to waiting for things, he found himself oddly excited and impatient. Perhaps it was Sophie’s frustration at waiting that rubbed off on him, or maybe it was that he had ordered a few things for her that she didn’t know about. Just thinking about how excited she would be over her special gifts made him as eager as a schoolboy at Christmas to see his packages arrive.

At home he paced his kitchen at odd times and gazed unseeing as he flipped through page after page of information about radio signal strength in the different towns and cities of the USS. At the shop, he corrected Fernanda’s work mechanically, without the agitation he had one felt when she failed to carry over a digit or when she applied the wrong sales tax. He walked the store aisles without any purpose in mind and reorganized cans of beans for no reason other than to have something to do. And so at first he failed to grasp the significance one afternoon when a thin blonde with sallow cheeks and greasy hair entered the store.

Emily saw him halfway to the counter and stopped cold.

And now Robert remembered that he had been waiting for this moment. Norma wasn’t here today. She had come in with a fever and Robert sent her home so she wouldn’t get anyone else sick. He smiled at Emily. “Good afternoon, stranger. Come tell me how you’ve been.”

She looked like she would rather run away, but Castaño’s social niceties were bred in her bones, so she forced a smile and walked up to the counter. “Hi Robert, nice to see you again.” She glanced around nervously. “Where’s Norma today?”

“I sent her home. She was sick and needed to rest.”

“Oh. I had some things I wanted to talk to her about. But that’s okay. I can come back some other time.”

She turned to go but Robert stopped her. “Emily. Don’t you think I can help?” He lowered his voice. “I know why you’re here.”

Emily blushed. She didn’t run away but didn’t come any closer, either.

“Give me your bag. I’ll go get it for you.”

She handed him her canvas bag but refused to meet his eyes. When Robert returned, she reached to take it, but he held it just out of reach.

“I’m willing to continue these deliveries and to not charge you. For a while, at least. But not if we can’t have an honest conversation.” Robert thought he detected a look of panic flit across her face, but almost immediately she closed down again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve hardly spoken at all, and every word I’ve said is true.”

“It’s what you don’t say that I’m concerned about.” Robert motioned her behind the counter, into the back room. Once they had confirmed they were alone, Robert said, “I know why my brother was trying to help you. And don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

If this gave Emily any reassurance, she offered no sign.

“But I think Arthur’s methods were a little misguided. He wanted you to slowly taper off drinking and then stop. He wanted you to get healthy again, not use this as an excuse to keep getting worse.”

“I know that. And I was getting better. Ask Norma, she knows. I would’ve done anything for your brother, but--”

“But he’s gone. So tell me what I can do. It would be irresponsible of me to finance your addiction indefinitely. But I can give you less each week. Or I can pay for you to get treatment somewhere like Santa Fe or Albuquerque, or—”

“No.”

“No what?

“I can’t leave town. And I can’t accept any money. I shouldn’t even be coming here, except Julio knows damn well this is the only store in town and you can be sure he doesn’t want to do his own shopping. But he watches my every move and--”

“He’d hardly think you were up to something if you were at a hospital, getting well.”

“No, he’d only wonder how I got the money. Julio doesn’t exactly believe in the kindness of strangers, or don’t you remember?”

Robert did remember. The Ruiz boys were the only ones in town who trusted no one and were cruel without provocation.

“Just let me be. You don’t need to place any more wine orders for me. In fact, it will be a relief to know that I don’t have any more…entanglements with Arthur. Or his family or his employees.”

“You can’t stop drinking cold turkey. It’s dangerous. I’ll give you a little less each week until you’re clean, how does that sound?”

“It sounds pointless.” Emily slung her heavy canvas bag onto her shoulder. “Julio has a still, or didn’t anyone tell you that? It doesn’t matter whether you give me more, give me less, or give me nothing at all. I can still drink as much as I like. And even if I wanted to go away and get well, I’d still have to come back here, wouldn’t I? Where else would I go, and what would I do? Are you offering to run away with me and set up some kind of cozy housekeeping somewhere? Look where that kind of thinking got your brother. I’m stuck here and I need to make the best of it.”

“And this is the best you can do? Spending all your time drunk?”

“Pretty much.”

With a superior air that reminded Robert of his teenage years when Emily was every Castaño boy’s dream girl, she flounced out the back door. And it was only after she had gone, her spell broken, that he considered her words. “Look where that kind of thinking got your brother.” What had she meant by that? Arthur had died of pneumonia. Or had he?