seven
Diesel Meets Elvis
I was exhausted. When Santiago insisted on driving, I reminded him that he’d never driven in wintry weather before, and that he’d tossed back two vodka tonics like they were water. He finally surrendered the keys when I wouldn't get into the car. Without me, there was no marriage. Santiago drank two more vodka tonics after we’d boarded our flight, and had finally passed out.
“Papa.” Santiago mumbled, and when I turned to him his leg twitched, and his mouth opened and shut. I wondered if he was having a nightmare, and without thinking I reached over and patted his forearm.
“It’s going to be fine, Santiago.” I murmured, then leaned back in the plush seat and shut my eyes.
When we first met, I believed Santiago was a spoiled rich brat. There was still an element
