22. “Don’t Stop”
22
“DON’T STOP”
FLEETWOOD MAC
“ H ey, Paige. I’m in the car on my way to pick up some wooden hangers, and I’ve got the top down. Can you hear me, ok?”
“Gorgeous day for that. Yep, I can hear you just fine.”
“Excellent. What’s up, honey?”
“First, I wanted to tell you that Kari is coming for a visit next weekend. I’m sure you’ll want to come over and say ‘hi’, so I’ll probably plan a dinner for the four of us.
“Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. I’m shocked she’s traveling, but so thrilled for you both. So… what’s second?”
“I’m not sure where to start, so I’m going to just jump right in. I hosted that book club meeting at the house last week and a few of the ladies have got it in their heads that your house would be the perfect place to host a writer’s retreat. It’s not my house to say yes or no to the idea…” I trailed off, letting him fill in the blanks.
“Wow. That’s huge.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Ok, knucklehead. Try to be serious for five minutes,” my uncle retorted, but the crack in his voice gave him away. He never could resist my twelve-year-old humor.
“I mean, there would definitely be some hoops to jump through, but I think it’s a great idea. A question comes to mind, however. And it’s a big one?—”
“Th—”
“—don’t even try it. I walked right into that one twice in two minutes. Anyway, the question. Do you think you’ll be staying here long enough to host a retreat? Don’t get me wrong, I’d love for you to stay forever, and some of that is because I don’t want to have to pack up that beast of a house.” We both laughed at the truth of his statement. He could run a booming antique resale business out of his house. “But I know your home, your parents, and your lifelong best friend are all in Madison. What do you think?”
He wasn’t wrong. The life that had taken me three decades to build was thirteen hundred miles away.
So… what? Really. Who’s to say I can’t build a new life? Who’s to say ‘from this day forward’ only applies to a marriage? I’ve said it under that context—twice—and look how that ended up. From this day forward, I have only myself to think about, only my future stretching out in front of me, and I alone control my journey through it. From this day forward, I am going to set my course and sail through whatever comes next.
A lightness I had missed for years filled my chest. “How long can I stay?”
After a brief exchange in our group chat, Grace, Elyse, Sarah, Jenna, and I settled on meeting at my house on Saturday at three o'clock. Cat would be at the café, but I assumed the girls would fill her in later. “I have news,” I’d texted to the group, then braced for the tsunami I knew was coming .
By the Grace of our Maker, the rest of the week flew by. I had tried to sit down three or four times to strong-arm some words onto the page, but it was obvious it wasn't happening. Before I even blinked, it was Saturday at three, and my new friends were at the door.
They filed in one by one, each with a hand free to greet Roxy (which she appreciated) and the other holding some kind of snack (which I appreciated).
“Well, you certainly know the way to my heart,” I said as I scanned their haul on the way to the kitchen.
“If it's one thing we know how to do, it's eat,” said Grace.
“That's the whole reason I golf sometimes… just to get out and away from my fridge. Otherwise, I'd sit at home and eat all day.”
Jenna set a large paper shopping bag on the counter. “Cat packed up a few things to send with me. Grace just picked me up from the café, so everything is still fresh.”
“First things first,” began Grace, “I wanted to tell you face to face how thrilled I am that you're staying for the foreseeable future. You fit into our little group so well. It’s like you’ve always been here.”
Elyse jumped in before Grace could take a breath. “You’re killing us, here. What did your uncle say about the retreat?”
The rest of the women stared a hole through me, hands clasped on the table in front of them, their faces doing nothing to mask their anticipation.
“He said he’d think about it…”
Four sets of shoulders slumped.
“..and then three seconds later he said, ‘gotcha.’—and now I get to say it… Gotcha.”
Four sets of hands flew into the air in celebration, and what ensued next could only be borrowed from one of my favorite children’s books. One I had read to my kids at least once a week for a decade .
Let the wild rumpus start.
As soon as the chaos died down, each of the four women sat back in their chairs around the glass-topped table, bent down and pulled a notebook out of her bag, set it on the table in front of her, and placed a pen on top of it—all at the same time.
“Is this a synchronized planning team? Did you all rehearse?” I joked. “You came prepared for good news, I see.” Anxiety roiled in my belly. More change. More unknowns. More meeting large groups of people at one time.
I stopped. Placed my hand over my belly to calm it.
From this day forward.
There was no going back, only forward, and the first step in this giant leap of faith was in front of me. I rolled my shoulders back. “Should we get started?”
Sarah, the saint that she is, jumped in first. ”Let's walk around and take notes as we go.”
Elyse stood in the hallway between the two rooms on the second floor. “Why don't we plan on leaving this floor out so you have a little bit of privacy.” We all agreed the third floor would be perfect for the bulk of the guests.
“Let’s take a look at the top floor,” said Grace as she led us back to the staircase that led to the attic apartment.
Once we’d all filed in, all four of the women began writing furiously in their notebooks.
Elyse was the first to comment. “You could charge the same for this space and still put two women up here, because there's more room to spread out.”
“This space would be good for a situation like mine and Sarah's,” said Grace. “Or two friends traveling together. You could really make these rooms work for a lot of different situations. So right now, you have availability for up to six people. Let's go back downstairs and get to work.”
We settled around the kitchen table again, this time with plates full of food .
“Insurance is going to be a must,” pointed out Elyse. “You might want to start there to ensure it won’t price you right out of business before you even start. Let’s add that to the list.”
We all bent over our notebooks and began to write.
“You are going to need some help with marketing. I had a chance to talk to my friend, Raina, and I will put you in contact with her. She seemed very excited about the idea and had a few great ideas while we were talking. I think she's going to be a big asset.”
“Yes, definitely put me in contact with her,” I said to Elyse, who was typing away on her phone. My phone buzzed on the table. “You are very efficient.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Jenna cleared her throat and set her pen down on the table next to her notebook. “I was wondering what you thought about food.”
“Great point. That’s going to be a necessity.”
Grace added to the list she’d started. “One thing is for certain, writers are going to need a lot of snacks.”
“And you could probably have some kind of sandwiches or salads or things like that, just grab and go where people could either take it back to their room or sit in a common area and chat while they eat their lunch,” added Sarah.
Grace looked up from her notebook. “Everyone should be on their own for dinner. They could either get together and order takeout, go off in groups to dinner, or go separately and get some alone time. It would be completely up to them.”
“I think that's a great idea,” agreed Elyse. “I could see myself getting tired of being around other people all the time. It would also help keep your costs down.”
If the entire conversation had been recorded on video, I would have played it back later to see my mouth hanging open in shock. The women were so invested in the idea and had considered so many things I would never have thought of until it was upon me. “I think these are all great ideas, assuming I can get this off the ground. What do you all think I need to do as far as getting approval from the city?”
My question prompted a flurry of paper flipping from my shockingly prepared planning committee. By four-thirty, we each had a to-do list. Mine included a list of people I needed to call, including an insurance agent and the zoning department.
“You guys are awesome.”
Grace clicked her pen closed and slid it into a pocket of her purse. “We're extremely motivated to help you make this happen.”
“I wouldn't mind getting out of the house for the weekend and doing a little journaling,” added Jenna.
“My friend Kari is coming in next weekend. I bet she's going to have some ideas too.”
“Oh, I can't wait to meet her.” Grace slid her notebook into her tote bag, then looked up suddenly. “Did anything come from your conversation with your dad's colleague?”
“Oh yes, Caleb. We're actually meeting at the library next Wednesday.”
“That’s great news.”
“Who's Caleb?” asked Elyse.
“He's an old colleague of my dad's who is going to mentor me.”
Sarah pushed her chair back and stood, prompting the other ladies to follow suit. “Let us know how that goes, would you?”
“I sure will.”
We stood around the kitchen counter for a few more minutes, picking at the snacks that lay in shambles, then, they trickled out one by one. After they left, I finished cleaning up the detritus of our meeting and headed out to the back patio with Roxy to wait for Kari’s call. I thought about how grateful I was that they had found their way into my life. It was nice to feel the companionship of these women around me. For so long, it had basically been me and Kari.
“Roxy, this time next week, Kari will be sitting right here with us.”
She wagged her tail as if she understood, but she might have been eyeing a lizard.
As I hung up with Kari after filling her in on the developments from our ad hoc planning committee meeting, my phone rang again.
My dad's number came up, and a warm happiness spread through me. They’d been on a cruise they had planned in May, and it had been a while since we’d spoken. My smile quickly changed to a grimace when I realized what my ears were in for. “Hey, Dad.” I said, cringing.
“Krrrssssht krrrssssht” The crackle of the speakerphone assaulted my ears.
Yep. Speakerphone. Called it.
“Hiiiii, honeeeeeey. It's u-uuuus.” My mom and my dad sang in unison.
“I kind of assumed from the name on the caller ID. How are you guys doing? How was your cruise?”
“It was great, honey. Your Dad will send some pictures over later. Theo, move over so I can sit down next to the phone.”
“Good grief, woman. Get your ass out of my face.”
“Just scoot over.”
I was thrilled to be listening to my parents bicker over speakerphone. Again. Someone should arrive at every sixty-year-old person’s house the day after their birthday and disable their speakerphone function altogether. People in restaurants and airplanes everywhere would cheer. Wars would end. Babies would sleep through the night from birth.
My mom’s far away-even-though-she’s-inches-from-the-phone speakerphone voice came through next. “We stopped by your house yesterday and saw Kari. She said they're making progress, but when we drove by, everyone was sitting around on the grass with coolers.”
“Yeah, they probably take breaks once in a while, Mom,” I laughed. “It’s August.”
“I know that, silly. I just wish for your sake they would work a little faster.”
“I'm in no hurry, Mom. I'm enjoying myself here, and I don't know… every day, this feels a little more like home to me.”
“Hmmm… How was your book club meeting at the house?” my dad asked.
“It went better than expected, and I've been wanting to talk to you about a conversation we had at that meeting, but I'm still trying to process it a bit.”
“Well, let's hear it, Tiger. No time like the present. Maybe we can help you process it faster.”
So I laid it all out. The book club pre-meeting with the league ladies, the other book club members’ enthusiastic agreement. My conversation with Uncle Mike. The ‘planning’ meeting that day. The constant undercurrent of anxiety that I would try and fail and waste everyone’s time.
“Sweetheart, this sounds like a fantastic idea,” my dad exclaimed. “A place where like-minded women can go to write without distractions. I know how hard it is for me to concentrate with this woman constantly distracting me with yard work, errands, grocery shopping, and eye doctor appointments.”
“It’s not my fault you keep us so busy,” My mom interjected.
Here they go again…
My parents communicated in a playful fusion of snark and guilt trips that could alarm the casual observer. However, I was not a casual observer. To me, their playful banter sounded like home .
“I would be just as happy sitting in my recliner with a book and a tall glass of iced tea. Anyway, sweetheart, continue.”
“If you're sure you guys are finished…” I waited for a rebuttal from the other side, then continued. “I don't know how I would make it all happen. Sounds like a lot of paperwork, and you know that's not my strength.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” said my mom. “Look at how far you've gotten in life. You have a successful career in marketing. You have two successful children?—”
“—two very unsuccessful marriages.”
“We won't count those against you, honey,” quipped my dad.
“I’ve got Kari coming here next weekend, and I’m sure she’ll be armed with enough lined paper, pens, and highlighters to outfit an entire sixth-grade class. We apparently have big plans to put together a pros and cons list.”
“Oh good, you know. We didn't want to ruin the surprise, so we've been keeping it to ourselves, but we're very excited for you both. How wonderful that she's decided to travel a bit,” said my mom.
“I think this might be her first vacation since her honeymoon, and that was only to Milwaukee. She’s not much of a jet-setter.”
“That's understandable, though, given all the moving around she did as a kid,” my dad mused. “Those roots are firmly planted. Speaking of roots, those boys were taking good care of your yard. I saw them out there every weekend mowing and weed-whacking. Kari had them working like rented mules.”
“We're so happy that she's going to be there. She’s been a little morose since the boys left. You’ll be able to help each other,” added my mom. Her voice sounded like it was coming from across the room.
“With that, I believe your mom has already gotten a head start on some fun household chores she’s planned for us today, so we're going to get going. But we wanted to check in with you and see how you were doing. We're going to give your uncle a call next and check in on him. Seems like it's going good from what I hear. He seems very happy, and that makes me very happy. We’re going to be making a plan to come down to visit all of you.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, then said our goodbyes. I heard the clatter of the phone as they picked it up and their muffled conversation through what must be the fabric of my dad’s pants pocket.
“Do we have any more laundry detergent?”
”Yes, we have a whole bottle in the basement.”
“I'm thinking about maybe going to get the car washed.”
“ After we’re done with the laundry.”
I left them to their domestic bliss and did them the favor of ending our call before I heard something that would scar me forever. It could be said my parents were set in their ways and sometimes seemed like polar opposites, but one thing they knew how to do was love one another.
I just didn't need to hear the evidence of it.