Love at Spain's Iron Cross

10 - Via de la Plata

10

Via de la Plata

Wednesday, May 19

Jordan woke up at about seven and took another shower. He felt a little off, but not miserable. Drinking the three glasses of water late last night had improved his morning. Nothing could change the evening's disappointment. It was positive in many ways since he felt like he was living more in the present than in the past, but just without the climax to the lovemaking that either of them anticipated.

I was so turned on. Oh, well. A sitcom moment? Felt like a scene from a comedy. What a crazy ending. But I have to leave today to arrive in Salamanca on time.

He went down to the dining area, drank some coffee, and wrote Greta a letter. He hoped she would call, but he needed to start walking no later than nine before the day became too hot. Today's trek was several hours long and he had to follow his itinerary to arrive the day before his university classes began.

Jordan had a bit to eat. No Carlos this morning, either.

I wonder where he is? He's been around every other morning. Oh well.

He finished breakfast, brushed his teeth, packed up the rest of his gear, and walked to the front desk. He left Greta's letter inside an envelope with the woman who was at the desk, along with a small note for Carlos. His message thanked him for the stay, saying he had enjoyed their time together, and requested that Carlos hand-deliver Greta's letter to her when possible.

Just before leaving, Jordan decided to make one more effort. He used the desk phone to call her hotel, asking for her in Spanish. "I would like to speak with Greta Wagner, please."

The operator said," I'm sorry, sir, but Ms. Wagner left specific instructions not to disturb her for any reason. Would you like to leave a message?"

Jordan sighed. "No, I'll leave a letter for her." He hung up.

Maybe she isn't as disappointed as I am. She must have been with a million guys. I'm just another one.

Then he adjusted his trekking poles, hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, and set off from Sevilla on the famous trail called the Via de la Plata. He looked for the yellow arrows to guide him out of town.

*****

Greta woke up feeling miserable, staggered into the bathroom, washed two aspirin down with some water, and headed back to bed, having no idea that it was already daytime. She slept another couple of hours.

She got up again, groggy, cotton-mouthed, and with a lingering headache. She looked at the clock. It was 9:30. Missed yoga. Missed Jordan. Missed part of her life. She swore. "Scheiss!" Her seldom-used German language offered the proper expletive. Jordan should have been lounging here in her bed still. She was supposed to be exploring his firm body again right now. Where was her Nepali prince?

She headed to the kitchen for some juice and saw his note, expressing his concern for her, and asking that she call the albergue before nine. When she phoned, Carlos explained that Jordan had already departed and that he would send the letter he left over to her. Five minutes later, the messenger arrived. Greta alternated sips of juice and coffee as she read Jordan's goodbye:

*****

Dear Greta,

I am sorry that I could not wake up next to you this morning but grateful for so much in getting to know you. After the pain of losing my wife, I've felt shut down. The friendship you and I created together meant more to me than you will ever know. I feel like wanting to live again, and I have you to thank for that.