A Post Series That Contains Tails and Tales
Thursday night, as I was hurtling home from a 4H swine meeting, I received a call. The caller was my nephew and the conversation proceeded like this:
"So, I have the entire tenth floor suite at the Coeur d'Alene Resort. Get down here now."
My first thought was to ponder my current state of exhaustion. As most of you who read my sporadic postings know, Life has been rather boisterous to me since about the end of January. Indeed, I have sat down less that an attendee at a traditional Catholic funeral. I've been bouncing around more than a honey bee on Adderall.
"Um, I am actually heading away from you. I have to drop the kids off and there is an entire houseful of people over for game night." I replied, ever the responsible grown-Kat.
"Two words: Princess Life." he replied.
"I'll be there in an hour." was my response.
A little backstory is now necessary to understand the context of this tale and its players. My nephew is my husband's nephew. He is six years younger than me, and his family members are old friends of my family members. I have known him since he was twelve, and we were friends even before his uncle and I got hitched. He is currently getting his PHD in Nuclear Chemistry, looks like a male model, and is of the same sex side of the people-liking persuasion. I adore my genius hummingbird.
A couple of years ago when he was helping develop the Ebola vaccine (he's also a bio chemist), I flew to San Diego and spent my birthday with him. For eight days we engaged in what we called Princess Life. It was a blissful spree that included sketching and eating hummus on a secret beach to saving a wealthy CFO's wedding. My nephew and I have a way of meandering into the most peculiar situations and meeting the most interesting people. All of this is done with a serendipitous attitude of the kind only people tuned into the same frequency can emit. Princess Life moments are Kat-therapy.
Anyway, exactly one hour after I had received the call, I found myself rolling into the Coeur d'Alene Resort. As I was a member of the B Party the valets already knew to expect my arrival and took my car from me quite efficiently. I was still basking in the glow that results when your spouse and good friends mercilessly rib you. My husband was especially droll when he announced to everyone at game night that,
"My wife is running off to spend the night with another man."
Awe, feelers.
With a massive smile plastered on my mug, I strolled into the gleaming resort clad in my best farm fresh outfit of almost clean jeans, a faded t-shirt, and a bright purple sweatshirt that belonged to my aunt. As it was rainy out, my hair had a very Hermoine Granger vibe going on. My experiences in the world of the wealthy are limited, my care about being anything different that what I am is about what you would expect from one who has descended from a rustic logger. That said, I strolled right up the valet desk, held up my ticket, and said,
"I've never done this before, what do I do with this?"
Now, I knew that my nephew was waiting for me in the bar. I had no idea where that was, but as the resort is not massive, I had a good idea where to look. Besides, I am a firm believer in the Kurt Russelian wisdom uttered by the title character he played in the movie, Captain Ron, *"We'll just pull in somewhere's and ask for directions." However, whenever I go some place new, I like to test the proverbial pretentiousness waters and see just what I will be dealing with.
Let's just say that I was pleased with the response. A very polite group of staff fawned all over my country self with authentic attention. Noted.
Overnight bag in hand I clomped down the marble hall, past the koi fish of gargantuan size, and found my nephew waiting for me in a fancy little bar that overlooked Lake Coeur d'Alene. Squees and hugs dispatched, he asked me what I would like to drink. I don't imbibe much. Mainly because I like to stay in control of my faculties, limited as they are, however this was a special occasion.
"What do you want to drink?" my nephew inquired.
"You know that I know next to nothing about ordering alcohol. You pick for me." I smiled in reply.
"Well, in honor of Grandma, I'm having an Old Fashioned, let's get you one of those." he said.
Grandma is my departed Mother-In-Law and R's actual grandmother. I called her Grandma too, as she was around 80 when I married her son. She was a flamboyant, one of a kind woman, one who ran with the Rat Pack, ran quite literally into John Wayne in a hallway, and ran every member of her family off. My nephew and she share the same birthday and more than a few personality traits.
Before you could say tipsy tart, I had a large tumbler slapped in front of me. Now, I am no mixologist, but as I sipped the concoction I felt reasonably sure that the bar tender basically gave me 3 shots of bourbon in a big tumbler. He wouldn't look me in the eye.
My nephew had an assortment of books laid out on the bar in front of him, and before long we were deep in a discussion of particle physics and quantum theory. And heartbreak. There was another element to our get together, a more personal and sad one, which is why I dropped everything in my life and headed to the Resort. When my friends and family need me, I will be there. It's as simple as that.
A bunch of theorizing about his research later, he summoned the bartender, a man he called Neil, and ordered us champagne. We toasted a lot of things, and I must say I was enjoying myself when R said, "Let's go to our room!"
By now it was about ten o'clock in the evening, and as we rode the mirrored elevator up to the tenth floor, I stared at my reflection and realized that my life exhaustion had evaporated.
"Guess what!" R blurted, "I am taking you to the spa tomorrow for your birthday!"
I just shook my head and smiled, for event though I knew there was a reason behind this visit, and I was just happy to be in the moment.
We exited the elevator and wandered left and then right and then left again to his suite. And what a suite it was! Just look at the views:
My favorite part of the whole room was the window seat perches. Someday, I am going to go stay at the Resort again and perch in that window seat overlooking Tubbs Hill for the entire day. I'll write, read, eat Asian food, and enjoy the absolute silence that somehow exists in that little haven. It has been foretold.
That night however, was moral support night, so I tossed my things on the floor, hugged my nephew, for I was really elated to be in his presence in such a lovely place, and said,
"What shall we do?"
He was clutching my Old Fashioned and still giggling over the fact that the bartender was obviously trying to get me drunk, when he said, "Let's go to a bar."
"We just came from one Sweets." I replied.
"No, let's go to a gay bar in Spokane."
Fun Fact: I never set foot in a bar until I was 34 years old. They just aren't my scene. They really still aren't. However, one of the most fun nights of my life occurred in a gay bar, the karaoke was legend, and one particularly beautiful queen waxed poetic over the magnificence of my skin. You just don't forget moments that good. Also, people who are in pain have to go through their things in their own way, it is not up to us to judge them, rather we should be there for them, so I said,
"Let's roll."
Around one in the morning, after a pit stop at the friendliest gas station and food mart ever in Post Falls, Idaho, we did indeed roll into downtown Spokane, Washington. We even got out of our truck and walked up to the bars. We did not, however, go in. No explanation was necessary and we hopped back into the truck and drove back to the resort. Sometimes people need to do things. If people were a little less judgmental and more supportive of the tracks people need to traverse, pain and healing would be soothed and achieved in a more functional way.
Once back at the resort, we diverted slightly on the way to our room when we discovered that the freight elevator door was open. One of the great things in the universe about being human is curiosity. Yes, it probably got some of us killed, but come on people, there was a laundry chute and a gigantic elevator to investigate! And I was mature and didn't toss something down the chute. That was a hard.
I think I finally fell asleep around 3:30. My nephew, being a scientist, and a bit of mad genius one at that, subsists on a very small amount of sleep. In fact, when I woke up at around 6:30 he was already out and about. As I lay tucked into the crisp, white sheets of the king size bed I pondered what sort of mischief we were going to get ourselves into that day....