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"Why would they?" he says sarcastically. "Safe travels."
Now I've made a mess.
I break the news to Clive and Jordan over dinner. "I am antsy. I'll probably love visiting. But for now, I must go home and prepare for Storm Adrianne."
Jordan reaches for my hand like we are about to pray. "You are always welcome," she assures me warmly. Clive nods. We spent the rest of the night playing cards for nickels. By the end of the night, I was down $1.50.
An Uber arrives right after lunch to take me to catch my flight back to LAX. I find it frustrating that not only did I waste money I didn't have on a trip to a place I didn't like, but shamefully, the environmentalist activist within me wasted a roundtrip of jet fuel.
With the layovers, I didn't land until shortly before midnight. Rather than asking someone to pick me up, I called another Uber. I wish I would have arranged with Todd or Gretchen to pick me up. Jack would have met me in a heartbeat, but I'm still feeling vulnerable, and seeing him would have been too much, too soon.
It gives me the willies that I am out in pitch black with this driver, and I have no idea who he is. I am usually well in bed by now and don't have reason to dwell on how dark or remote theinn is. If I were to have kept it, I would probably have had to beef up the lighting for safety's sake.
I'm finally home, totally exhausted from the long day. I hustle into the house and turn on all the lights, locking the doors behind me. I call Jack.
"Hello?" he rasps.
"I am so sorry," I say. "I woke you."
"It's okay," he murmurs.
"I just got back," I say. "I knew what time it was and yet forgot all at the same time. Crazy. Go back to sleep."
"Is everything okay?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say. "I just wanted to tell you I am home."
"I want to see you," he says. "Don't want to walk on eggshells to be in touch. I don't want to give you space. I want to act like two people who like each other. If I feel like calling you, I will, and vice versa. Got me?""
"Yeah," I whisper, curling up on the couch.I love it when he's firm.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," "I say.
"Can't wait," he whispers. "Good night." But we do wait. The following day, I fell into my much-neglected yoga practice. It feels so good to be stretching and posing after several days away – but at the same time, it's bittersweet knowing I won't be doing this in front of the inn for much longer. Of course, I could always come to the beach – Jack doesn't own that – but who wants to do yoga in front of a bunch of horny old construction guys?
I sent Jack shots of the ocean as I practiced my yoga but didn't hear from him, nor did I get a response as I went about the rest of my day. Odd – I hope he's not trying to teach me a lesson – but it doesn't seem like something he'd do after sounding so happy to hear from me.
Jordan texts me to say the escrow had closed on the Galveston beach cottage earlier than expected, so they are now officialhomeowners – and to let me know again that their door is open anytime I want to visit.
I told her that the new owners of Clives Bakery want me to keep servicing their plants and landscaping. She wishes me good luck in court tomorrow before we end the call.
As I walk through the inn, making a list of what I want to sell in an auction versus what I will sell in an estate sale and what I will take with me, I am overwhelmed with grief and sadness at the ridiculous loss of so much history and so many memories.
I know nothing lasts forever and that to move forward, the past has to make way – but it just seems stupid to tear down a wonderful building with grace and character and replace it with something no one is even asking for. If the businesses here sold because they couldn't survive, why does Jack think an office park is the answer?
The more time I spend organizing, the deeper the funk I go into. By late afternoon, I am in knots. How can you be both depressed and ready to jump out of your skin at the same time? Added to the mix is a growing anxiety of court in the morning.
I take an Uber to court. I have accepted that I will lose and plan on returning to the inn afterward to finish organizing. I'm hoping Jack can arrange for me to stay another couple of weeks to hold the auction and conduct an estate sale.
Adrianne shows up with an attorney other than Jack's corporate counsel. I wish I had someone to be there that is on my side.
" Miss Casey," "the judge says. "You again. A partnership is bringing this action to which you are the defendant. Miss Gollum, are you representing the partnership in this action?"
“I am, your honor," Adrianne rises and replies sweetly.
I raise my hand.
"What?" the judge asks me with a roll of his eyes.
