OK, OK, it turns out I lied, or rather, I gave you fake info... My editor/readers and I decided that Part 4 was too long (almost twice as many words) and consequently, I have divided it in two, and the conclusion will be Part 5.
~~~ 11 ~~~
The Saturday morning after his rather inglorious debut returning to the singles world, Joe awoke with a start until he remembered why he wasn't in his own bed, in his own house. And that he also woke up alone in direct contrast to his hopes and expectations.
At home on a Saturday morning he would have smelled breakfast cooking, but without Susan he was left on his own. He tried to stay in bed for a while, luxuriating in the notion that he was now in control of his own life and could sleep in if he wanted. That didn't work and the habits of a lifetime forced him up about 5 minutes after he woke up. For one thing, he had to pee.
After he showered and dressed, Joe decided to go out to breakfast instead of making it for himself. There was an IHOP or Denny's, he didn't remember which, right around the corner from his rented condo. He walked there and not being a member of the computer age, he bought a newspaper to read while he had breakfast.
At least he felt a little better after having coffee and a solid breakfast. But now he had the entire day to fill up doing something. No matter what one might say about Joe, he was a hard worker who couldn't stand to just be sitting idly by. As he walked back to his condo he figured that he would go home and check on Susan.
The notion that maybe he could convince Susan to have some conjugal relations occurred to him and put a little extra hop in his step.
Alas, that was not to be either.
He arrived home only to find that Susan wasn't there. He let himself in and there on the kitchen table was a note:
Joe,
I decided to go out of town for the weekend. There are a couple of bills you need to pay in the mail pile on the table.
.
Don't bother trying to call — my phone will be off. Talk to you next week.
Susan
Joe read it through a couple of times. Man oh man, she was sounding pretty cold. He wondered where she would have gone for the weekend? Probably her mom's house in San Diego or maybe her sister picked her up and took her back to her place in Simi.
Joe wasn't going to call either of them — it would just piss Susan off if she thought that he was checking up on her. After all, he was the one who moved out because he needed some space.
Joe picked up the mail that was sitting next to the note and went through it, picking out the bills that Susan had mentioned in her note.
When he'd come in the house Joe had noticed that the lawn could use a little mowing and trimming. He figured that at least if he took care of that, Susan would be a little less pissed off when she was back in town. She would see that he wasn't just abandoning her and was still taking his responsibilities seriously. He went out to his outdoor shed in the back and began getting the equipment ready.
It took Joe pretty much the rest of the afternoon to do the yard work that the house needed, so it was a sweaty but content Joe by that afternoon. He took a shower in the master bath and changed clothes from outfits he'd left there at the house.
That Susan might be spending the weekend with another man never occurred to Joe. He had an image of her that was based in the past — a past that he had caused her to abandon.
When her returned to his condo that evening Joe heated an instant dinner in the microwave and settled down in front of the TV and spent the evening watching sports.
~~~ 12 ~~~
In all honesty, Susan and I had just had a glorious day. It was sunny, the temperature was sublime — a perfect day for a little sightseeing. We didn't eat breakfast at the motel — we found a place down the street where no one (as far as we knew) had heard us the night before.
I had read that the Elephant Seal bulls were back on the local beaches for their annual molting or mating, or whatever it was they were doing — maybe both. So we stopped at the State Park right off the highway where you can walk along the top of the beach, safely behind fences, and look down on the huge seals with their oversized proboscis as they tussled and fought and rested on the sand. They would periodically wriggle on down the beach into the water looking for food and it was a kick to see their heads popping up and down in the surf. And there were hundreds of them.
Later in the morning, we went to Hearst's Castle State Park, William Randolph's somewhat tacky monument to himself. There are still herds of Zebras, Aoudads and other wild animals roaming the hills of the old estate, although it is the herds of cattle that pay for the upkeep on the land. The 'castle' itself has always been a bit disappointing to me. Made of poured concrete to imitate the look of the old castles of Europe, even the main halls of the estate seem like a pale imitation of the real things. I suppose that comparing Hearst's Castle to Versailles or Windsor castle is unfair, but it is how I see the thing. Don't get me going on W.R. Hearst, I never found him to be a particularly admirable character. Nevertheless, Susan and I had a great time there.
Then we popped over the mountains to Paso Robles and made it as far as Vineyard Street with its 20 something wineries along its length. We had lunch outdoors at one of the wineries that also served food, and stopped to taste at four different wineries. Paso is remarkable for the wide variety of wines and styles of wines that they produce. Paso is inland and a quite a bit warmer, so the local grape varieties tend to be the heavier reds — Zinfandels, Cabernets, Merlots, Sangiovese and the like. But some of the wineries also bring in grapes from distant cooler areas, like San Luis Obispo (Something of a joke that: SLO isn't far from Paso, but it does have its own different micro-climate.)
We also had to stop and try one of the new 'in' things — an olive oil tasting room. They grew 13 different varieties of olives on their properties and had an interesting selection of olive oils and infused olive oils — my favorites being the Lemon infused, and Basil infused, although somehow a bacon infused oil made its way into my shopping bag as well.
By late in the afternoon when Susan and I trekked back over the mountains from Paso to Cambria we weren't drunk, but we were happy.
Back in the room (thankfully cleaned and aired out) we broke open the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and toasted each other and to having a great day.
I think it was then that Susan looked at me and asked, "What should we do for the rest of the day?"
We both broke out laughing at THAT.
