San Antonio in July is a roaring furnace. If you dare to light a match, the city will instantly combust. The Alamo opened for us tourist types at 10; we left the hotel at 9:30. It's a beautiful city. We toured, took pictures, shopped a little, Josh had a huge milkshake. We headed back before 11.
Josh jumped in the pool; I called the birthmother. She didn't answer. I left a message. "Hi! We're here. I was thinking you can meet us in the lobby at 5 and we can go from there. Give me a call back..."
One o'clock. I took him to Wendy's for lunch. I don't eat fast food. I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't chicken. Josh had a burger and fries. He loved it. While he ate, I dialed the birthmother again. No answer. I texted Joe. I was acting real casual, but if Josh wasn't there, I would have been in tears. Joe called me sensing my imminent breakdown. "People are different in the South, laid back. She'll show up." He calmed me down.