The summer air whipped through my hair as we drove down the two-lane road like teenagers with nothing but time.
Life dealt me a swift punch to the gut, banishing me to Australia for almost three months.
Okay, banished may be a little on the dramatic side, but that’s how it felt. I’d voluntarily boarded the jet in Toronto bound for Perth, Western Australia, connecting through Los Angeles and Sydney. The journey would be long, but I needed to tie up a few loose ends before returning to what I hoped would be my forever home in Texas.
I’d been road-tripping with a friend and soon-to-be partner and we’d had a blast. Baton Rouge, New Orleans, a few days in my Holy Land — Nashville, Tennessee, where my little country heart beat to the rhythm of a crying steel guitar. Up through Kentucky with overnight stops in Ohio and Pennsylvania before making our way across the Rainbow International Bridge at Niagara Falls.
As the cascade crashed into the Niagara River, I paused at the halfway point between the two North American countries, taking a moment to marvel at the natural wonder and reflect on my journey thus far.
The journey to find my forever home had been anything but easy and I was equal parts exhausted and terrified. Due to an extreme oversight on my part, I’d overstayed my tourist visa by thirty-one days and as the plane soared over the Pacific Ocean, I was oblivious to what the US government had in store for me.
I soon found out!
My visa was taken away.
I had only organized accommodation for the three weeks I planned to be in Perth, and now, 10,390 miles from home, I had to scramble to find longer-term options. Jaime, my little well-travelled cat and my partner were home on the ranch near San Antonio and I was stuck in limbo on the other side of the world.
Friends tried to rally but having a long-term houseguest was a spanner in the works of their well-oiled lives and it wasn’t going down well.
An acquaintance came to my rescue, allowing me to sleep on a single mattress in her workroom at the back of a cold house. Although many believe that Australia is perpetually warm, it can get bitterly cold in winter. Brick houses don’t do very well in keeping out the cold and central heating is a myth in most Australian homes.
I had boxes in a friend’s shed waiting patiently for a visa that would allow them to be loaded onto a ship and head to me in my new country of residence. Alas, that would end up being almost a decade away. I dug out a duvet, sheets, blankets, warm clothing, and my electric blanket and made a temporary home in the back office.
A student visa seemed to be the best option for returning home relatively quickly but it would be an expensive endeavour and money was tighter than it had ever been. Unable to work legally in the land of the red, white, and blue, I had run through almost every last dime I had, but a plan was set and my partner and I were hopeful I would be able to return.
Which I did.
After three planes and an eleven-hour delay in Sydney, the descent into San Antonio was like nectar from the gods. The lights of the city glowing below me as the plane descended caused tears to roll down my exhausted face. I had been travelling for almost forty hours, having also had a difficult time with passport control coming in.
It was all behind me now. With a shiny new visa in my passport and a woman waiting for me in the arrivals terminal, I let out a breath I had held for months. I dragged my weary body off the plane and through the automatic doors and there she was, standing at the top of the escalators waiting for me with a big smile and an even bigger bunch of flowers.
Three months had taken a toll on both of us but in that moment as I flew into her arms, we left all the trials and tribulations behind.
Hot Texas nights
It was summer and college wouldn’t start for a month. We had time to play. With jetlag wearing off, first on the agenda was a much-needed date night, footloose and fancy-free. Where does one get dressed up and go for a lovely meal and great ambiance in San Antone, Texas? Why, the famed Riverwalk of course.
I squeezed myself into the little black dress I had bought for my first university graduation ceremony a few years prior, and although I was a couple of pounds heavier, I still rocked it with a pair of black heels. I felt pretty. A far cry from the feelings of desolation that had plagued me over the last few months.
The shiny red Cadillac CTS sedan sat on the dry dirt driveway next to the simple farmhouse. In a manner rivalling any form of 1950s chivalry, my door was opened as I slid into the passenger seat anticipating the margarita waiting for me at a bar in the centre of the city.
Not being a big drinker, the tequila and lime hit my empty stomach like a bullet train as I licked the salt rim of the glass. Everything’s bigger in Texas and the drinks are no different! My date smiled, chuckling a little as I held onto her arm while we wandered along the cobbled pathways of the well-known entertainment district searching for a restaurant.
I rarely wore heels and wasn’t particularly skilled with them, especially considering that I was a little tipsy. She navigated me along the busy paths as I teetered precariously near the edge of the waterway.
Seated in a fancy Italian restaurant and ready for some food to take the edge off the giant margarita, I placed the shawl I’d brought over my knees, forgetting that my little black dress became even shorter when sitting down. Not wanting to recreate Sharon Stone’s scene from Basic Instinct, I was immediately thankful for the insight to bring it with me.
Dinner made me a little steadier but I still hung on to my date’s arm as we made our way back to the car which had waiting patiently with the valet for our return.
The ranch lay at the end of a long two-lane road just off the I-37. I loved driving that road. Just twenty minutes south of downtown San Antonio, you felt far away from the hustle and bustle of everything as you cruised carefree past wooden houses with beat-up trucks in the driveways and crooked fenceposts.
“Please open the sunroof,” I said as an idea hit me.
She did as I asked, never questioning my hair-brained schemes, always happy to help me fulfill my crazy dreams. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slowly inched my torso out of the gap now created in the roof of the Cadillac.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I said smiling as I emerged victorious through the hole.
With her driving as steady as a rock, she laughed as I let out a giggle before sending a woo-hoo into the warmth of the July evening. The summer air whipped through my hair as we drove down the two-lane road like teenagers with nothing but time.
I breathed in the freedom I felt, allowing it to release the stress of the past few months. As I sunk back into the passenger’s seat, I knew that this moment would stay with me.
And it has.
A few minutes of carelessness on a warm southern evening in Texas remains one of my favourite memories.
Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.