9. Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Epiphany.
No other word for it. When it clicked, it had me sitting straight up in bed.
Why hadn’t I thought of this before? It was still very early, but I was on my own schedule.
I texted Brock to let him know I’d be out of town for a few days, and not to expect me in the bookstore.
I didn’t actually have assigned shifts anyway.
Unless Brock actually needed someone to cover for him, I simply came and went as I pleased.
But now, I had something else to do.
Seattle was about a twelve-hour drive for me, so I needed to prepare.
Probably smart to do a two-day drive. Or I fly.
.. I’d rather drive. I quickly booked a hotel for two days, hoping that would be enough time.
And a hotel for one night on the way up, near the halfway point, and the same for the return trip. So, two up, two there, and two back.
I texted Brock to let him know that my few days would actually be about a week.
But it was necessary. And I could write the whole thing off on my taxes, because this was research for the blog. It was time to compare a big city to a small town and, at the same time, learn more about the kinds of things Alfred might like. If he wanted to go to Seattle, I needed to find out why.
Hmm…
He never actually said he wanted to go to Seattle. But, I knew he did in my soul.
I packed a few sweaters and my windbreaker in case I encountered some of that famous Seattle weather. Then, I loaded the car and started driving. It would take me all day to get to the first hotel. Eugene, Oregon, here I come!
I stayed in a Holiday Inn Express near the Willamette River, not that I was going to do more than look at it when I crossed it the next day.
The hotel was on a cute little business block with a mom-and-pop coffee shop on the corner.
I imagined that it would get busy in the morning for sure.
There was also a Starbucks on the way back to the highway.
I’d probably end up sticking to hotel coffee simply out of convenience, but I needed to eat.
One of the fast-food places, back toward the highway, would end up being dinner. I’d definitely find better places to eat in Seattle, but for the driving part of the trip, it was all about junk food.
I’d booked a Marriott on the waterfront, which was close to everything of interest to me.
I’d spend most of my first day there at Pike Place Market.
I wanted to see the big burly men throwing fish, and whatever else went on there.
I imagined Alfred would hang out there if he lived here.
So I checked in, ordered room service, took a long shower, and crashed to be able to get up bright and early.
I was up before dawn, full of excitement, and checked the weather to dress accordingly with jeans, a T-shirt, and my windbreaker to tie around my waist if I got hot. Then it was on to the fish market to see the fish being thrown. I wasn’t sure why that was so interesting, but I needed to find out.
The fish were packed on ice, lined up on tables beneath wooden rafters, and the fish-mongers wore bright orange jumpsuits.
Above the odd hum of the crowd, I heard them chanting in unison and calling out to each other.
Turns out, they did not throw fish simply to throw them.
Generally, they did it when there was an order.
It was kind of mesmerizing, in its own way.
It did tempt me to buy one, but I didn’t know a damn thing about cooking.
So I had one shipped to Brock and Eddy. That felt like a nice gift and a prank all rolled into one. Perfect.
After taking a few videos, I moved on, because there was a lot more to discover at the marketplace, starting with all kinds of craft stores, and I saw freaking everything.
Jewelry, yarn, candles, specialty T-shirts, driftwood crafts, art stores that sold prints, a puppet store, and a hat store—the list kept going on and on.
I popped in and out of a few of them and eventually found the Polish Pottery Place.
It was a riot of colors in beautiful blues, reds, oranges, and greens, all vibrant.
The pottery covered shelves and tables throughout the store.
I wasn’t sure how people managed to find one thing among all of this, but I actually did.
I might not know much about Alfred, but he liked coffee.
A lot. And I felt like this would be something he would also like, so I bought him a sugar and cream set.
The pieces sat on a matching tray. Adorable.
The one I picked was mostly blue and white with scrollwork and stars that emulated the water, and had bright orange fish on them.
They kind of looked like angel fish rather than anything you would buy and eat from the market, but the sentiment was there.
And they were pretty without being too wild. So I bought them.
After my gift for Alfred was all packed up, I decided to actually find coffee.
Who went to Seattle and didn’t drink coffee?
Not me. So I wandered around searching for a good place to sit and drink and maybe have a treat, and I was not disappointed.
Actually, there were more than a few places to choose from, but The Crumpet Shop called to me.
Crumpets? Why yes, that was something Alfred would want to experience.
He seemed like a crumpet guy to me, so I went in.
I ordered both an egg crumpet and something called the Vermont, which had maple butter, cream cheese, and walnuts.
So delicious and filling. I immediately ordered from their online store to send crumpets home.
Replicating any of this might be a challenge.
But at least the one with strawberry preserves and cream cheese might be easy enough not to screw up.
After eating, I walked around more, going into more than one bookstore.
That was irresistible. It had been a great day, but it would have been so much better if it had been with Alfred.
I vowed I’d get him out here someday once I was secure in our relationship.
And since it was currently nonexistent, it would take a lot of work. Alfred was worth it.
The second day was reserved for deciding what was different about this big city. Obviously, tourism, but what else? How did it feel? I tried to imagine living here.
Checking out the area, I drove around downtown—thank God for GPS. The buildings were huge. Eventually, I parked to walk around an interesting area where people lived side by side with commerce.
I realized that everything was gray, concrete, and the weather turned drizzly, making it feel somber and cold.
But there were patches of green here and there.
Parks. Some of them fenced off. Most of the people I encountered offered half smiles and head nods, polite but certainly nothing like the people in Foggy Basin.
We were warm, caring, and embraced strangers, welcoming them in. Mostly.
I passed a huge apartment complex with signs about apartments for rent. Could I actually live someplace like that? Crammed in among all the other people? I didn’t know. It was a lot of food for thought.
On the way to the hotel, I spotted the Space Needle. If that trip with Alfred ever happened, eating at the top of that restaurant would go on my list of things to do, but for now, I simply snapped a picture of it from a distance in my car.
Back in my room, I scrolled through the pictures I’d taken on my phone.
Not a ton of them, because I wanted to really be in the moment.
But I knew I had to do something with all of this.
A blog entry, of course, and I’d include some of these pictures.
But also something more for Alfred. It wasn’t enough to give him a gift. I needed something special.
Back in Foggy Basin, everything felt warmer and drier than Seattle.
After two days there, I felt like moisture had started settling in my bones, and I was happy to be home.
I stopped on my front porch and looked out at my land.
Everything was green and fresh as we slowly moved into summer, but come next spring, I’d have wildflowers popping up around the place, and in the fall, all the shades of orange and yellow falling from the trees. And all of it baked in sunshine.
This was home. Visiting other places was good. If nothing else, it reminded me of where I was supposed to be. I had family roots here, some good and some bad. And some were chosen. Those were the best.
And I wanted Alfred to feel that way too. I wanted to make my world something more like his, so he’d love it and want to stay.