Reality Bites

The next morning is glorious and dew-kissed. The sun is up early and so are we, despite the antics of the prior night.

Terry and I go for a hike and walk all over the mountain again. I am showing her every nook and cranny we could not see last night or could not see well enough by only the moonlight and the twinkling porch lights of the cottages.

She is still enchanted by the place and has decided it is her next home. Wouldn't that be fun?

After our walk we stop for coffee, return to the cottage to shower and drag Mick out to do two things: see the linen store and its workshop space for rent and head to the French pastry place for a decadent breakfast and more coffee.

It is at breakfast that I fully elaborate on the Craig situation. Terry reminds me that I am a prize. I have a magnetism that I am completely unaware of. Let him - or some other man - come to me.

I am not sure she has not mistaken skepticism for magnetism. I feel about as magnetic as a toadstool. And about as beautiful. Who had I thought I was last night depleting the world's reserves of beer all in one night?

But coffee and breakfast work their magic. I feel better with a few carbohydrates and some caffeine coursing through my veins.

Terry and Mick eventually have to leave, as her father has been watching her 13 year old and their 4 year old since the prior morning. The poor man probably needs a nap. Or a good stiff drink. Terry says she'd like to rent a cottage and bring her Dad and the kids back. I tell her to plan something and I'll secure the cottage with Charlotte. She'll be meeting Charlotte the next week when she comes for the Art Show. The world just keeps getting smaller.

I stay behind. Remake the beds. Clean up the dishes and beer glasses and put them away. Place the bottle of wine Terry and Mick brought for Charlotte and Jack next to the gifts I've left for them. And right next to the puzzle.

I am sad once again to leave, and this time it is for real. I have a week of trouble ahead. And no kids, no Craig, no job prospects and nothing to dream about. I drive home without even turning on the radio.

Once at home I set about getting ready for my first outside obligation in months. With no job and only a few face to face interviews in the past months, I am a little out of sorts. I have to think about what to wear. Carry a wallet. Shower. God only knows how I did it all when I worked.

It is more than that that rankles me, though. My house is in disorder. Literally and figuratively.

The cats have managed to give my clean house a "lived in" look while I've been gone for 2 days. The place mats and centerpiece on the dining room table suggest that a game of musical chairs has been played. There are fresh pulls in the area rugs and the dining chairs. The house plants have been chewed beyond recognition. All of Hil's hair notions have been pulled out and chased about the house. Trinket found a piece of packing tape, ate it and hacked it up on the hall rug. (I know it was her because of her penchant for all kinds of tape and postage stamps).

I have burgeoning piles of laundry everywhere I look. I have about 3 crumbs of food in the house. My car needs an oil change.

And then there is Craig. I have not heard from him in 10 days. Maybe he thinks "liking" photos on Facebook is communicating. I don't see it that way, but it least it takes a little of the edge off of what feels like hostility.

And with nothing but what will surely be a poor nights sleep between me and my court filing tomorrow, I am a wreck. It's not that I will run into Lars. But that once he gets the notice, he will be livid. And livid is not a good color on him. He will do everything he can to threaten me and make me feel powerless. The time between the filing and the hearing will be dreadful. It is almost enough to make me not go through with it.

Almost.

As I get into bed, I realize I have no happy thoughts to soothe me.  In the dark, I pick up my phone and send one final text to Craig.

"Why are you being so mean?"