When I woke up the next morning it took a few minutes to realize where I was. My watch said it was almost 9:00 which was a shock in itself as I had not slept until 9:00 since I was in college. Then there was the smell of a turkey roasting in the oven and bacon cooking. I quickly threw on some clothes and dashed downstairs.
Everyone, Mark, Mary, their four year old son, Joey, and Wally were all gathered in the kitchen. I could hear Wally telling stories as I came down the stairs. Part of his worry about the trip to Riverton was him not really knowing Mark and Mary but he seemed very happy munching on bacon and eggs and engaging with the family. I apologized for oversleeping but they all just said after the drive from Detroit I deserved to sleep all day.
Mark was doing all the cooking for the Thanksgiving dinner. Mary explained that Mark's parents were coming for dinner and were Jewish. Mark always cooked when they were coming since she had never mastered Jewish cooking but only knew Episcopal cooking. That was the start of one of the nicest Thanksgiving days I think I ever had. One, I did not have to cook at all and two, it was certainly a day filled with laughter. Mary and Mark had one of those homes that I had termed a Kick-Your-Shoes house.
Sometime in my decorating years I noticed going in and out of homes there were those that you would have liked to stay in forever as you felt completely comfortable the moment you walked in the door. Others did not feel so welcome and you wondered how fast you could make an exit. There were perhaps a lot of factors but who knows whether it was the house or the decor itself, the people who lived there or a combination of both. Mark and Mary's rambling hundred year old house was a work in progress as Mark termed it but from the moment I saw all the lights on when we arrived the night before to the pitchers of milk and orange juice sitting on the breakfast table I knew this was a Kick-Your-Shoes off kind of a house.
Riverton whose population was about three thousand people living in the one square mile of the city limits made it pretty easy in the four years to meet every resident in town. A lot of the five days we were there are a blur since I am sure our visit was headline news in the News Weekly. That is what happens when you become involved in every organization in town, have two boys in school and are the librarian. I think I managed to see everyone who lived there during our visit.But a couple do stand out.
On Friday following a very old tradition I gathered some leftovers from the Thanksgiving dinner and went to the Pot Luck Lunch/Craft time at Bay's. Usually there would be about ten to fifteen people there. In winter everyone knitted or quilted or did some kinds of craft. Summertime it was outside with swimming in Bay's pool. This particular Friday there were about thirty people crammed into Bay's small but homey converted carriage house. If I had worried about how they all would feel about me divorcing Dennis those thoughts were quickly dashed. It seemed they all had some funny story about Dennis like the time he used the motorcycle for a ladder and ended up running his arm through a window requiring fifteen stitches or the fact that there was one man in town who never learned his name but called him Mr. Donna Tarkington. So much for my worry that they would all think I was a terrible person because of the divorce.
Of course I did pick up a piece of gossip that afternoon. Susan, the President of the Library Board and my boss, the preppy, pretty lady I aspired to be like if I ever grew up was getting a divorce. On Saturday morning I dropped Wally off at one of his friend's' houses and drove to Susan's. Her house was magnificent, over looked the Delaware River, had a Butler's Pantry with a sterling silver sink and a stairway landing large enough to put the Christmas tree nestled into the floor to ceiling windows looking out on the river.
Luckily she was home and we sat down with a cup of coffee. I told her about my divorce and she explained her's. One of the real reasons I wanted to see her was to tell her how I had wanted to split with Dennis when the move to Detroit came up. I had it all figured out that I could stay at the Library, live with the boys upstairs in the caretakers quarters and not leave Riverton. But there was no way I could go to her and ask her if I could stay. Part of the "frowning upon divorce" thing. She and I both laughed about it considering the situation we were both in now. She actually asked me if I still wanted to come back. It was a yes, but at that moment a no. Everything right then was complicated but it was interesting that perhaps if I had manged to talk to her before the move I would have still been living in Riverton.
When I got up on Sunday morning Mark had gone off somewhere to get bagels. When he arrived home he did not only have bagels but also Lox. Bagels I love but had never had Lox. Being a polite guest it was very difficult to get the Lox down especially when it ruined the bagel. Not sure how Wally did with the Lox but he never suggested that we get some to eat. But the rest of Sunday was wonderful. Wally went off to a friend's house and Mark, Mary, Joey and I went on a tour of Philadelphia. Not much traffic on a pretty but cold day in Philly so it was fun to drive by all my favorite places in the city. Lunch was, of course, at Pat's, home of the cheese steak sandwich, which I had no trouble in eating.
All good things do tend to have to end and on Monday it was time to head back to Detroit. Planning an early start is nice but sometimes that just doesn't happen. It was hard to leave Mark and Mary's as they had been so nice to us but they would be in Detroit often to see Mary's Mom.
Then a stop by Sis and Gus's naturally took much longer but there are those people you have to see just one last time.
It was after lunch before we finally got on the road and we would be late getting back to Detroit but who cared. Somewhere in the middle of the Pennsylvania Turnpike it began to snow. It was beginning to get dark since in the winter dark arrives around 4:00 in the afternoon. I also never could figure out why no matter what direction you were going or what direction the snow as coming from it always appeared to be coming like little bullets at the windshield. Not fun to drive in especially in the stupid Thunderbird that did not handle as well in the snow as my Bronco.
Wally and I made the executive decision to just stop for the night. Since we both rather liked quaint and money was a consideration we came upon what was probably a century old motel. Looked like just the thing with it's knotty pine walls, tiny TV and even smaller bathroom. Since they all only had one double bed we didn't have much choice but to go for it. One bed would have been fine but either the mattress was a century old or made of feathers as both of us kept rolling to the center all night long. Will not say it was the best nights sleep I ever had but it certainly made for a funny memory.
The next morning we awoke to maybe a foot of snow but hey, this was the east coast and the roads were all clear for the trip into Detroit. I wondered how it would feel arriving home. Dennis and I had not discussed what he would take moving out but I had decided that it would be okay if the house was completely vacant of furniture. Actually he did not take all that much, just enough for he and Wes in an apartment. We would argue about the rest later. Walking in the door of the house it just felt peaceful which was nice after our very nice trip to Riverton.
Peaceful doesn't last forever as I would learn pretty quickly.
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