bye!
bye
hug!! i held my arms open, and my daughter folds into them. the grinding chaos of the airport terminal fades away for a moment while i squish this tiny little baby girl with the speckled strawberry on her forehead that only blooms when she cries.
we just moved her and her partner to nashville. set up a tiny little house tucked away in a loose, sprawling leaf-scattered neighborhood that begs for long walks and waving to jim who's still mowing the lawn, even though it's fucking november.
the 8 hour drive together was comforting. one in front of the other, or behind - hey, why'd you pass me! you're going so damn slow. i'll see you in st. louis. i'm hungryyyyy. toss me an apple when i pass you! pulling over to close my eyes, i just couldn't keep them open for one more minute. finally there, the light is on. claire made it first, and that warm, creamy vanilla light spilling out from the open door felt like the fluffiest blanket being tucked in around you in front of a fire. home.
two days unpacking. where does this go? we need a trash can. showering without a curtain can be done without flooding the bathroom. a sweet friend dropped off coffee, but why did that feel like an adventure got taken away? get in the car. let's go get coffee and experience the first day of many future days walking through the same door of the same shop, telling the barista hey, you free tonight? while they hand you your usual.
we finish the bathroom first, plants tucked away, pierce complaining he doesn't have enough space in the cabinet. well, not exactly complaining. he doesn't ever complain. he's the most steady, patient human i know. his secret super power is the ability to say one thing in response to a discovery that will absolutely kill all joy associated with the find. it's endearing. he says: wow, i didn't realize my stuff would fit in that corner. claire clears off the whole shelf. teamwork.
we vintage shop. drive past new places that will become old places. see the new salon where claire will work. the tiny unassuming studio where pierce's band recorded their first album. they take me to get banh mi for the first time. it's not a bowl, beka. it's a SANDWICH. goddamn best sandwich i've ever had. we spend 30 minutes digging through a consignment sale at one of the 369,420 churches that are on every corner of nashville. basement sale! 7 rooms full of the weirdest shit. come back tomorrow, everything's half off!
we stop at a cocktail bar where there were no menus. only questions. gin or whiskey? citrus, floral? dark or light. i'm convinced i'll end up w a french 75 until i take a sip. damn ok. absinthe. pierce: i don't think we'll come back, $18 for a drink is a little ridiculous.
me: what are you gonna do without service industry discounts?
pierce: i still have my food handlers card. claire: YES.
last night, we pick up a bottle of wine and watch it's always sunny in philadelphia on the floor, pillows propped up against storage tubs full of recording equipment. no tv, just a laptop. we laugh and get a little wine drunk. they pack for san diego, flying out in the morning. i take a bath, can't find a plug for the drain, so i improvise with a lid from a jar of hair styling paste. sleep.
kitties wake me up, cheese in my face. time to go! we load up the car, lock the doors, head to the airport. i've got a song in my head - play it!! high school musical, can i have this dance. claire: i was listening to this driving down!! me too.
see you soon! i love you! have fun! are you crying?? IM NOT! look! i'm not crying either!! look at us. we're so mature. see ya!
gone. i should get coffee. time to go home. high school musical again. i feel ok. it feels good to feel ok. i'll see you soon love
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