The day we left Ojai, Lou made arrangements for us to stop in Monterey, California, to visit a long-term friend of his named Mike.
Lou and Mike’s friendship dates back to the 1970’s, but it had been close to 15 years since they’d connected. However, as soon as Lou called Mike, it was as if no time had passed at all, and the two friends quickly fell into an easy banter — complete with old inside jokes and lots and lots of laughter. When Mike learned of our vagabond status, he immediately invited us to impose on him. He had an extra room, and there was plenty of space for us, he said.
And just like that, we had a place to land.
I remember that Mike said something profound to me on my first day in his home: “If I have something, and you need it, take it. It’s yours.” And the thing is, Mike really meant it. (How will I ever find a way to repay Mike for a kindness like that?)
Anyway, Mike’s primary home was in Dallas, but he split his time between his two places, and so sharing his Monterey condo with us was no problem. He had recently gone through a divorce, and Mike seemed to welcome the company when he was in town. From the very first days of staying at Mike’s place, I felt such relief. He had a gorgeous washing machine and dryer, and his place was one of the cleanest, most cozy homes we stayed in on any leg of The Imposition Tour.
And, Mike was always a joy to be around. He and Lou cracked jokes, and kept the mood positive, light, and happy. But Mike was also a great sounding board for Lou. He was a serial businessman, too, and so it was good for Lou to have someone other than me to process with each day.
Most mornings when Mike was in town, Lou and Mike would get up at sunrise and talk in low whispers over coffee. I only joined the guys occasionally, but I know for certain that Mike was a great friend and support to Lou as he continued to work out his ideas for his new wine concept.
Mike’s condo was less than five miles away from Carmel, California — one of the wealthiest zip codes in the whole country. And the beach in Carmel honestly has no rival when it comes to its beauty. So most days — whether Mike was in town or not — we’d drive over to Carmel-By-the-Sea to go for long walks along the ocean. I’ve never been anywhere in my life that was quite as stunning. But it was also very, very cold!
When we first arrived in Monterey, it was early June, but I don’t think I ever wore a pair of shorts that summer. Later I found out that June and July are the coldest months of the year in that part of the country — which was completely disorienting. But it was so beautiful, and unlike my time in Utah, the cold temperatures only chilled my body. This time, my spirit was open and hopeful, and I felt like I was growing into a place of wholeness again.
Mike didn’t have television or Internet connectivity in his condo, so Lou and I started reading epic novels we bought at a used bookstore.
We just needed a way to give our weary minds a break from fretting about our future. So our days were mostly spent working on the business plan, and going for very long walks; but our evenings were spent in a connected, nerdy-kind-of-silence, as we both got lost in some amazing stories.
When I look back on our time in Monterey, I have this fond remembrance of being still with Lou, while holding a huge, musty-smelling novel in my hands. I recall looking up from my book every now and then and seeing my husband engrossed in his reading. It would remind me of how attracted I was to Lou from the start because he liked to read as much as I do. There was something so warm and familiar about seeing Lou this way.
I vividly remember feeling this strong pull back toward my man on those chilly and calm nights when we were getting lost in a well-told story.
At that time, Lou and I were reading a historical fiction trilogy, and when Lou would finish one book in the series, I’d start reading it. So on some of our walks, we’d discuss the characters and the events depicted in the narrative. I often found myself admiring Lou’s mind when he’d share something from the books that triggered him or caused him to think. His interpretations of the story gave me this unique insight into his heart and into his thoughts, and those two things seemed to refresh me somehow. I felt completely engaged when Lou would talk to me about the books, or share something the story had reflected back to him about his own life.
Back then there was such a tendency for us to get sucked into a conversation where we’d pick apart our own lives because we’d been fighting for our financial survival (and our marriage) for so long. But “the story of us” had been picked down to the carcass by then, and that kind of exposure was still quite painful to touch at times.
However, when we allowed ourselves to get lost in the lives of the characters in our books, it felt liberating and hopeful to me to process about a different life story that we were both emotionally invested in. I think we each said so much about ourselves when we’d talk about the books.
