Thursday morning I walked down the carpeted stairs of my parent's house their old dog woofed quietly up at me, calling my mom to come down for his morning walk. I went out with them through the neighborhood where I grew up, checking out the changes of the past ten years, waiting for an old dog to catch up with us. When we got back Mom made half-caff as a compromise. I added one and a half spoons of sugar, a liberal dose of my Dad's ever-present half and half (he doesn't drink coffee though; he puts it on his cereal), and took it into the living room for some quiet time. Quiet time was interrupted a little black and white cat sucking on my hair, purring loudly in my ear.
Friday morning I wandered into my brother Eric's kitchen, where he informed me that I was making my coffee wrong. The Coffee Mate should be added to the cup
before pouring the coffee in. "You make your own choices," he said. He went off to work, and I went to hot yoga with Ivy. When we came back his great Danes were sleeping on my bed. Naughty dogs.
Saturday morning I woke up in a little hole of a bedroom in Alicia's basement. I had slept very soundly. I went up two flights of creaky steps to the communal bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. No one was awake, so I walked down the hill to Roy's Coffee and Tea and ordered a soy hazelnut latte. I sat on a bench and read The Stranger. A woman arranged two stuffed animals on the table next to me and walked away. When I got back Alicia informed me that Roy's is a Starbucks. Go figure.
Sunday morning I woke up in the same dark hole at Alicia's. Upstairs I roused Colin from the couch. Whiteloaf wandered up from another couch, and we started tidying the party's aftermath. When everyone was all assembled we went to Brian's (George's). We drank champagne and ate cheese. When I tried making coffee in the unfamiliar coffee maker it started spilling all over the counter, but I took the lid off the carafe and wiped it up. When it was ready I put in sugar and rice milk. I drank it out of a giant mug. Then I had a bloody Mary. Breakfast!
Monday morning Matt's dog, Bella, stuck her nose in my crotch as soon as I opened the door. When I came out of the bathroom she was laying down on my futon. Matt made us coffee, but he didn't have any sugar. Just skim milk. Joy had green tea. Then she and I took Bella for a long walk on the beach. We looked at Washington's mountains floating on the horizon, and found jelly fish melting on the rocks. The air was fresh.
Tuesday morning my mom peeked in early. "What time is it?" "About a quarter to seven." "Okay," I rolled over and went back to sleep. When I got up later I threw on whatever clothes I had brought that were still clean so I could do laundry before going. In the kitchen I found my mother and brother. She offered coffee and I took it, wondering if it was caffeinated or not, but not asking. Again: sugar and half and half.
This morning my very affectionate cat stuck his little claws lovingly into my chin. He missed me. I pushed snooze for an hour. When I finally got out of bed I stumbled around my apartment, gaining my bearings after my week away. I made my coffee and doctored it with my usual sugar and almond milk. My favorite mug greeted me from the dish drainer, right where it always is.
